I usually try to avoid raisins, because I hate them and their wrinkled fruity brethen. However, I am making something special for someone, and it calls for raisins, so I went looking for them just now at the grocery store, possibly for the first time in my life. Consequently, I had no clue where they would be. Cereal aisle? Baking? I wandered up and down almost every aisle, cursing quietly. These evil, shriveled things are usually ubiquitous, but I couldn't find them for the life of me.
I finally caved and went to customer service and asked, and apparently they are in front of the deli case. Um, yeah. That makes no sense. But now I have a whole box of them, and they were a pain in the ass to get, and they did that on purpose just to spite me, and I hate them even more. And apparently have anthropomorphized them to a ridiculous degree, so I will say no more about their evil nature.
The things I do for lovers of desiccated grapes.
Posted by thevieve at November 2, 2007 2:18 PMI'll take whatever extras you have. Srsly. I love raisins.
Posted by: Aaron on November 2, 2007 4:27 PMYou are a sweetheart for braving the dried fruit section to make such delicious (to me) raisiny treats. I know how traumatic it must have been for you, but they were incredibly well appreciated by me and my dumb cupcake-Bogarting roommates.
Posted by: Tom on November 4, 2007 10:51 PMI hate raisins. Yucky nasty things! Die raisins die!
Posted by: Colleen on November 5, 2007 5:25 PMI hate raisins, but I like their essence. Like in Raisin Bran. I love the flavour they contribute to the overall box. I tried eating regular bran once and it was just repulsive, I needed that raisiny essence. I treat them like cloves when I eat bowls of Raisin Brain. I carefully eat around them, letting their flavour contribute to the milk and cereal. Then I hunt them down, stab them (with somewhat of a sick sense of satisfaction) chuck them in the garbage disposal and drink the milk. Voila! Essence.
Posted by: Emily on November 6, 2007 6:45 AMI much prefer the British approach to food than ours. Not just sugar or cream, but types and subtypes and mysterious connotations to every nuance of the crystal or drop of the viscous fluid. Take raisins, or not. Across the pond they are again divided into genus and species - sultanas are the rubenesque golden voluptuous
orb that over here is merely a dried grape.
I am compelled to rush to their rescue since it was a 2 -2 score. So I can now rest easily with the thought of a lovely baked apple speckled with gorgeous golden sultanas and a hint of demerara sugar and Devon clotted cream.