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Dessert’s Platonic Ideal. What Snickers want to be when they grow up.
Have you ever bitten into something so sweet, so cool, so wonderfully chewy that you just had to stop everything and just enjoy?
I have. It’s called a medjool date.
I always liked dates. I could occasionally get my hands on cubed, sugared dates as a kid. They were great, back then. When I went vegan a month and a half ago, I started eating pitted dates, and they were so much better. I really thought I’d hit the date jackpot.
Yesterday, I found un-pitted, medjool dates in the refrigerated section of Sam’s. Each date was about three times the size of any dates I’d ever had before.
I couldn’t wait to get home and try them.
No, seriously. I couldn’t wait. I bit into one on the way home, and I almost ran off the road it was so good.
Medjool dates are so much better than regular dates, I think they should introduce themselves as “dates, medjool dates” and have their own theme song and favorite drink.
I ate eleven of them on the way home (to be fair, it was a long drive). Numbers 1 through 10 were nothing short of divine. Number eleven was probably a date too far.
They were so rich, with a taste like caramel, but so much more real.
Candy bars are made in factories, with lots of additives and chemicals and such, and though they’re very sweet, you can taste the artificiality. These dates grew, and you can taste that, too.
If you’ve heard the story of Plato’s cave, he explains the difference between the world of mortals and the world of ideals, the world beyond, this way: we are all in a cave, watching shadows cast upon a wall. We can tell a lot by the shadows, but we can’t turn around to see what’s casting them.
Well, when I bit into that date, I got to turn around. That’s what every date and every candy bar (going back to the dawn of desserts) wishes it could be.
Now, excuse me while I go eat some more dates, medjool dates.