Parsley, parsley, parsley. Are you even a vegetable at all, or just a weed disguised as a garnish? You’re not pretty enough to make anything look significantly better - I can’t recall ever seeing you in a vase, not even in that chichi Real Simple, where they’ll stick fucking anything in a vase (driftwood! tumbleweeds! organic dryer lint!). But you’re not tasty or filling enough to constitute a food. You’re like the hood ornament on a Hyundai - an extraneous, purposeless ornamental status symbol that even people of no status fail to appreciate.
To add insult to injury, you are also touted as a “breath freshener,” because nothing says fresh, kissable breath like a mouthful of pungent greenery casually tucked betwixt the incisors.
- My darling, your lips… What is that haunting fragrance?
- Oh this? It’s Eau de Cud.
I think most people are introduced to you the same way - seeing a little branch of flaccid branches on the side of the plate with no context whatever to tie them to the food. Is this for pretty? For eating? So we eye each other, waiting to see what other people at the table do. And nine times out of ten (I’m being generous here, I’m guessing it’s really 10 out of 10) all the plates get sent back to the kitchen empty, with only a few scraps of food remains and an untouched hank of parsley. All you waiters out there reading this can back me up - if there’s any foodstuff that takes up more of your refuse pile, I’d like to know what it is. I wouldn’t be surprised if most low-end joints just recycle you back onto the next plates - it’s probably not even a health hazard if no one ever touches you.
3/10. I don’t want to eat you, but if I was forced to eat something green at gunpoint, you might be 5th in line.
image via wikipedia