Tasteless Americans

A Sassy J guest post!

Why does the U.S., supposed nation of so many cultures, ethnicities, and religious affiliations (or lack thereof), insist on dumbing down its taste buds? Why must fruit, such as the all-American apple, look perfect (Red Delicious or Fuji, which is half Red Delicious anyway) but taste so bland? What happened to misshapen, multi-colored, succulent apples–tart and sweet? This is the same for cheese, which should not taste like fat-injected plastic but actually have pungency, kick, bite, and be available in hundreds of varieties. And if one would chose to be a carnivore (I hope it is not disrespectful to the lovely Becky S, who does not partake, to mention meat in this blog), just travel anywhere in the world outside of the U.S., and you will discover flavor with your iron. I suppose Michael Jackson’s insistence on bleaching out his skin is part of this same phenomenon. Although I certainly don’t want to taste him.

4 responses to “Tasteless Americans”

  1. Short shorts guy

    Mmmmm Sassy! My name is Short shorts guy. Since Becky S is away, can I fixate on you? What does the “J” stand for? Juicy?

    Call Me.

  2. Dana

    ah but its not just food. Look what America has done to the individual. If well look a certain way in hair, fasion, weight and make-up, then we are to be envied. But in reality most people who conform to this mold are also quite bland.

    it’s a quirks, bruises and mishapeness that make us tasty.

    And shorty shorts guy is really creepy even on-line ^shiver^ 🙂

  3. Theresa

    this is a familiar rant for me. it seems strange to me that a country with so much wealth and power has nastier tasting food than the third world countries I’ve visited. I think it’s because we value value over taste. money over quality.

    I never hooked the MJ phenom into it though. bravo.

  4. Short shorts guy


    From my many relationships (2 or 3), I found that is the way the woman like me. In fact, they like me so much that they have to leave me only after a few hours or they will go crazy.

    It’s a curse that I have learned to live with.