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May 8, 2017 | by  | in Opinion |
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Dear Raisins…

June 30, 2016


Raisin Headquarters.

60 Sadness Street, Orange County, California, US.


Dear Raisins,


I hate you. Every day my life is slowed, stopped, and disrupted by your presence in what seems like a mass amount of recipes and food items. To me, you are unwanted and, frankly, unnecessary. In this letter I hope to explain my viewpoint, address the reasons you are obviously unneeded in culinary dishes, and convince you to never move past the point of being a grape.

I was shockingly young when I first discovered the horror that a single raisin could inflict upon me. At three years old I sat with my father on our deck overlooking the sea. On this particular day, a storm seemed to be approaching across the ocean. We sat eating Sun­Maid raisins out of their snack sized boxes. These boxes are marketed to make raisins seem fun and appetising (which, I discovered, is a lie) with the goal of enticing children to eat them. All was well until my father loudly ordered me to spit out my mouthful. I wondered why he had done this in such an abrupt manner until I looked into my hand. There, among the half-chewed raisins, lay about three weevils. At that moment it became evident to me that both my father and I had just eaten many of these filthy beetles. Since that traumatising moment, a raisin has never entered my mouth without me flinching or wishing that I was not present. Now raisins, you may try to make the point that this story is just one bad experience and that technically it was the weevils’ fault and not your’s. Though these statements are true, I believe that I should have never had to have eaten you in the first place.

I disagree with the amount of recipes that you are included in as the alternatives are far superior. Take chocolate chips for example. Apart from possible “health” reasons, I have no knowledge of why anyone would choose to include raisins instead of chocolate, as everything is more enjoyable and tasty when chocolate chips are included. Some examples of this are hot cross buns, ice cream, and christmas cake. I just hate that you are in so many recipes… it seems that somehow you have convinced chefs and bakers from all around the world to like your unsavoury flavours, or that you simply have connections in the publishing industry and manage to slip into recipes this way unnoticed.

I must discuss your texture. I don’t understand why you insist on passing the stage of being a grape. Grapes are beautiful things; fresh, juicy, and full of flavour. You, on the other hand, are wrinkled and shrivelled. This, combined with the fact you are a stained shade of brown, makes it impossible for me to look at you without making the obvious visual connection to faeces. You are also strangely chewy, with a gritty texture that follows after you are bitten into.

It is with this letter that I express my hate. I call for all of those who hate raisins to stand with me. I have a dream, a dream of a world where I do not have to spend twenty minutes picking the raisins out of my brown rice salad. A world, where I never again will bite into what I believe is a chocolate cookie and gasp with repulsion when I sadly realise that it is, in fact, a raisin cookie. Please consider this letter a sign. It is time you change your ways and begin to consider all the people that you hurt on a daily basis.


With absolute distaste,

Maggie Hablous


P.S. Are dates any relation to you? If so, could you please pass on their mailing address to me.

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