Am I alone in this ailment? Last night I stopped at the supermarket on the way home from work and bought nearly a kilo of bing cherries. The Critic phoned while I was there and we agreed to meet up so he could drive me home. The traffic was bad and as I stood on the street corner waiting for him, I managed to eat about three-quarters of a pound of unwashed cherries. I know that cherries are sold covered with nasty pesticides and I knew I should wait until I got home and washed them but I literally could not wait. And I've been that way as long as I can remember, specifically with cherries. I mentioned in an earlier post the fact that my brother used to keep fruit at my grandmother's so that my sister and I could not get at it: as I recall, it was a bag of cherries that served as the straw breaking the camel's back. (Our mother, bless her, is one of those people who just grabs cherries by the handful from the counter, rather than carefully selecting only the good ones...unlike my brother and me.) When I lived in the Dallas/Fort Worth for one hot university summer, I think I lived on cherries and spaghetti alone. (Spaghetti was the food obsession of our host, Tom.)
They have to be Bings, really. Rainiers are prettier and some of the sour cherries are much nicer in pies and pastries. But for plain eating, give me a big juicy Bing: crunchy, sweet, juicy, it has it all. I don't even mind the pit; if there weren't something to slow me down I'd probably eat them even faster. As it is, I generally finish whatevers in front of me unless something interrupts. A meal time, for example. Or a national disaster. Otherwise, I never get tired of them, I rarely admit I'm full and I just keep eating.
And the two pounds I bought last night? There are about 15 left. If cherries were sins I'd be going to hell on the express route...
(On the contrary: according to the California Cherry Advisory Board, cherries are chock full of benefits!)