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Sorry, Tabbouleh, But I’m Just Not That Into You
Friends, foes, countrymen and women: I implore you NOT to get butthurt over what I’m about to admit. And I’m willing to concede that there could be something fundamentally wrong with me…
But I do not like – and never have liked – tabbouleh.
I tend to think of tabbouleh much the same way I think about Taylor Swift: I just don’t get it. I don’t understand why people act as though she is a god.
Shhhh…. shhhh… hush now. I can already hear your retaliatory screams from the depths of the Internet, “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T LIKE TABBOULEH? IT’S THE GREATEST FOOD EVER. IT WAS INVENTED IN LEBANON. I WISH I COULD EAT TABBOULEH EVERY MINUTE OF EVERY DAY WHILE MORGAN FREEMAN NARRATES HOW GREAT IT IS.”
Dude. Duuuuude. Duuuuuuuuuude.
Don’t get me wrong: a nice crisp salad can be a wonderful thing. But for me, tabbouleh just doesn’t live up to the hype.
And no, it’s not a matter of never having eaten good tabbouleh.
Here’s a list of my grievances, in order of importance:
1.The Parsley
I don’t have anything against parsley as a garnish. But as the main component of a dish, it’s just bitterly overbearing, and makes my lips pucker up like a pre-pubescent teen doing duck face. It also reminds me of freshly mowed grass, or the hypothetical urine of wheatgrass.
2. The Texture
The only way to really consume tabbouleh is to eat it with a spoon. Eating salad with a spoon is an abomination.
3. How well does it pair with bacon bits and croutons?
It doesn’t.
So just a day ahead of National Tabbouleh Day I say to everyone who likes tabbbouleh: no, just no. I think it’s terrible.
And before you go all cray on me, let me just say: guys, let’s all calm down here. We’re talking about food. Byeeeeeeeeeeeee-e.
[Image from here.]