How do Venusians eat plantains?

I don’t think I’ve updated in forever, but I’ve resolved, in 2010, to check in once in a while and let everyone know I haven’t died. So, I’m starting off my blogging for 2010 with a picture of my mom’s lunch. It’s part of a project I’m forcing my little brother to help me with — documenting the insanity that runs rampant in this household to prove to our friends that no, we’re not making this up. Because really, when I tell people that we have 300 plastic bags lining the garbage can in our kitchen or that my mother uses orange juice as salad dressing, they simply refuse to believe me. So, here it is: a salad made up of spinach, avocado, apple slices, tomatoes, garlic, four different types of mustard, black pepper, cayenne pepper, and some type of orange juice/vinegar concoction that my mother likes to pretend is a dressing. After I took this picture (on my iPhone — did I mention that part? I’m obsessed) my mother added strawberries. What happened next, I really wish I had recorded (I did get a video of the early stages of the salad-making process).

Venus (my mom): Move out of my way. I have to get my plantain out of the refrigerator.
Me: Why do you put them in the refrigerator?
Venus: If I leave them out, they get too smushy.
Me: …you mean ripe?
Venus: Well, I like to eat them when they’re still green-ish. Otherwise they start to taste too sweet, and you know me, I’m sweet enough already.
Me: So… you eat it raw? In your salad?
Venus: How are you supposed to eat it?
Me: You typically fry it…
Venus: Well, I like to use it in my salad instead of the regular bananas. They’re too sweet.
Me: Of course. Because everyone puts bananas in their salads.
Venus: Are you making fun of me?

My lunch was a version of Todd’s Waldorf Salad, which consisted of an apple, half an avocado, a few tomato slices, and cayenne pepper. Normally, I get made fun of for this. The next time someone comments on the weirdness of my eating habits, let this serve as proof that I have evolved significantly from my Venusian roots. For those of you who have no idea what I’m talking about… my mother believes she’s from Venus. (No, seriously. She signs her e-mails from ~Venus~)

Video coming soon.

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