ONIONS!

As many of you know, I LOVE onions. I mean, I really, really, really love them. I love them raw, sauteed, fried, carmelized, in rings, on sandwiches, red, white, yellow, green, sweet, hot, as a primary recipe component, for breakfast, for lunch, for dinner.

To demonstrate the depth of my love for onions, these are images just from 2010, and not even close to all of the pictures I have of onions:









It wasn't always this way. When I was seven or eight, I basically hated onions. My favorite thing about onions was when my mom would slice rings and put them out as a garnish for hamburgers, and I would poke them out, ring by ring. My mother had a, to my mind fairly irrational, dislike of this behavior (I dunno, maybe it was something about my putting my grubby little hands all over the family's raw onions.) So she told me that the next time I did it, I was going to have to eat every single onion I poked out. Then she made good on it. I poked out about half of a large onion into rings, and then, much to the immense amusement of my siblings, had to eat all of them with a large glass of water as my only accompaniment. I'm pretty sure I puked.

Well, that must have been something of a turning point. Sometime shortly thereafter, I began to absolutely love onions. We'd walk by the zoo, which had a snack bar with outside walk-up windows, and a condiments bar. I would go over, shovel a handful of raw onions into my hand, cover them with yellow mustard, and gobble it all down.

The end.