I never understood the reason why it was an apple that the serpent offered Eve in the Garden of Eden. Apples are fine, I like them, I’ve enjoyed them greatly in pies. But that would not be my choice to bring about the fall of man. Something more tempting — blueberries or strawberries, or juicier — oranges or tangerines, some fruit that hinted at our perverse nature — pomegranates, bananas. To all of you students of theology, I know there is debate as to what the fruit really was supposed to be, but I’m going with the American accepted fruit of the fall — an apple. Just seems odd.
Until the other day. I recognized them, so they had that going for them. Even said Gala, so I thought I knew what was in store for me. I put my little plastic gloves on (a very cute cultural tidbit is that when in a supermarket, never touch the fruit or veggies with your bare hands) and selected 3. Thought about them later that evening and cut one up. Oh serpent, you tricky devil. It was . . . well, let’s just say I’ll never view an apple the same way and to be very obvious, I’ll also call it divine. Apples here engage your tongue and senses. You get this shock of sweet, juice, happiness that you don’t quite expect. They are so good restaraunts serve them for dessert. And I’ve had a chocolate torte here that was the equivalent of a warm chocolate blanket to the soul. I would still want the apple. Trust me, the fall of man is worth it.