one of my girlfriends sent me this card and i felt so SEEN! my dislike of raisins is on par with how i feel about the taste of mayonnaise (blue cheese, salmon, sourcream and gum are up there, but not at the pinnacle.) but raisins are unique and particularly worrisome because they weasel their way into things that should have chocolate chips like oatmeal cookies, scones, muffins and all kinds of breads. even when my eyesight was tip top i always asked the server about the presence of raisins in any desired baked good and then i would crack it open and examine it before taking a big mouthful, just for good measure. there are few things worse than the gummy, sickly sweet, unwelcome surprise of a raisin when you are expecting warm, velvety chocolate.
when i was about six i was visiting my grandma for a few days. she was the kind of grandma who always had apple jacks on hand when we were only allowed cheerios at home. she was the kind of grandma who got in the pool with you all afternoon and when you were nearing exhaustion from all the fun would wrap you up in big towel and cuddle you on the lounge chair while singing “my favorite things” from the sound of music (she had a very pretty voice.) she was the kind of grandma who planned field trips to fun parks or kid centered museums and treated you to ice cream on the way home. she was the kind of grandma who let you brush her wigs out and try them on (i never understood why she had wigs because she had plenty of her own hair.) she was always giggling and she had a distinct twinkle in her eye that typically had an arc of turquoise eyeshadow carefully applied. i loved her wholeheartedly and of course, TRUSTED her completely. so when she served me a bowl of oatmeal covered with milk and brown sugar, i didn’t hesitate and just dove right in. to my horror, underneath all the lovely, melting sugar, the oatmeal was riddled with RAISINS. i probably are three or four of them in that first bite alone. it was a devastating moment for me. i desperately tried to fish out all the remaining raisins and hide them under my bowl, but because they had been warmed, they left a distinctive raisin residue that permeated the oatmeal. i am not sure how i got through that horrifying breakfast (i MUST have eaten it because i would never have wanted to disappoint my grandma), but something deep inside me broke that day. i had learned that even people as wonderful and well-intentioned as my grandma could cause you harm. i have never been able to approach a bakery or a brunch or any meal, really, with a carefree heart. i have to stay alert and keep my guard up in order to protect myself from further raisins tainting my food.
(all of us in the pool… i think i look sour because i had to stop playing in order to pose for this photo… my grandma was never sour)
* i did, of course, forgive my grandma. that raisin incident is the only unpleasant memory i have of her, but it DID fundamentally change me.