Thursday, December 24, 2009

Day 17: Asparagus Day


"Eat nothing but asparagus all day long to ascertain how noxious your pee can get."




"[Asparagus]...transforms my chamber-pot into a flask of perfume." --Marcel Proust (1871-1922)


Unless your aversion to anything vegetable has prevented an exposure, or unless you've remained farther than 12 feet from the toilet bowl you've just leaked in, you've smelled the unmistakable, germinating scent of asparagus pee.


Last Monday I ate asparagus with EVERY SINGLE MEAL. I know that the assignment calls for only asparagus for every single meal, but I'm already a vegetarian so I think that would push me over the edge. For breakfast: an asparagus, mushroom, and onion omelette. So basically, I had bad breath in addition to bad pee. For lunch: a quick sandwich and cold asparagus dipped in mayo & capers. For dinner: angel hair pasta and baked asparagus & parmasean.


Some more rambunctious people told me to dip asparagus in a homemade hollondaise sauce, but after cooking so much butter, I'm pretty sure I would start to resent the asparagus. And the raw asparagus already resembles something of an inhospitable cactus, although a more leggy, model-type. So I stuck with the basics.


Now I realize that this blog business basically exposes one's private life at a level of that person's discretion. Well, I'm going down that road. My pee was beyond upset with me. If my pee could talk, it would be squealing. It would be like the sound of a man after he's had a bowling ball dropped in his lap. My pee was beyond extra-terrestrial.


And it lasted into the next day. I eat dinner late. Sometimes I go to bed on a full stomach (not recommended), but in this case, the asparagus attacked my toilet even the next morning. The asparagus was vicious. The asparagus was a bully. The asparagus won.


It will be awhile before I can willingly look this vegetable in the eye again. Jagermeister (aka anise) and I still aren't on speaking terms and I fear that the stubborn silent treatment has finally severed our friendship. So, the next asparagus dish better be worthwhile or else I fear a lifetime of produce animosity. Suggestions?