I love peanuts still in
the shell, roasted (better than raw), no salt (s’healthier that way). Some are
already split and easy to open, others require a slight bite to crack apart,
but they aren’t hard (unlike pistachios, which I like but cannot get open if
the shell isn’t already partially opened. You can crack a fang on those!). If
you’re a Dragon, you have to be careful about the biting part. You don’t want
to crush the contents before you get a chance to partake.
Why still in the shell,
you ask? One, if you have to open them, you eat them slower. There’s no grabbing
up a handful/ claw-full of nuts to shovel in as one great bite. You select them,
one at time, with thoughtful intent.
Two, shelling takes time,
a momentary focus off of whatever you’re doing (at least it does for me,
although I’m certain some connoisseurs can do it without thought),
which is a
nice break if you’re engaged in something you don’t really want to do, but have
to do…like work that is required to earn a living. Some boring, non-creative
endeavor you simply can’t escape…
Shelling peanuts breaks up the moment,
loosens the mind, the hands, the soul.
Anyway, opening peanuts. A
study of the shell is required—its configuration, its hardness, its color (wastebasket
those of ‘unnatural’ color!), and the access (partially opened, or not?).
Does
it crush easily between your claw-tips, or is pressure required? Does it
require a twisting strength to pull it apart? Does it crunch if you bite it? Squish?
Crackle?
Anticipation
makes my wings flutter! The discovery of what lies
inside the shell can cause a fleeting spurt of adrenaline…a perfect specimen of
peanuthood?
Or a shrunken little nob of not quite peanutness?
S’odd to discover some strange blob of lava-hard
consistency that dreamed of becoming a true peanut, but didn’t quite complete
the journey.
Does one feel sad for the loss…your own loss, or the poor failed
peanut want-to-be? There’s the soul
stretching aspect of the process…
A shell with three lumps
promises an extra treat; do you know how often that little extra peanut-shaped
portion of a shell is empty? Shapes
can be deceiving. You learn not to expect too much… although, if you’re a person
or a Dragon still blessed with an ounce of hope/optimism/faith, you can’t help
but want that third solid eatable little peanut to really be there. To pop
forth with its two companions and provide your tongue with a profound peanut
experience.
Ah…shelling peanuts. A profound
adventure, not unlike life, I think. Requires focus, determination, hope, and pragmatism,
and results in a mix of entertainment, sadness, excitement, and, occasionally, satisfaction.
An experience not to be shunned.
Therefore, I say: “Go
forth and shell peanuts. Eat them often and with gusto. Live. And breathe
peanut breath upon the world.”
And, if you must, dip them
in chocolate before consumption.
The Dragon has spoken.