In Defense of Prunes

Prunes are wonderful, and if things had turned out differently, I could see myself being a passionate, instrumental part of the restore-prunes PR movement, as calling them “dried plums” hasn’t done much. Better than dried apricots, just not as pretty, and so much better than raisins they honestly don’t even belong in the same sentence, prunes are sweet and sticky, plump and chewy. Does that actually make them sound a little gross? Well, yes, I think that’s what I’ve accidentally done. But prunes are not gross, and — contrary to popular belief — they don’t make you instantly shit yourself or anything (although they do technically contain the natural laxative dihydrophenylisatin, as I’ve just learned on Wikipedia — I had actually thought the laxative part came from prunes’ fiber content and thus they were just like any other dried fruit, so, huh, but anyway, that’s not really such a big deal).

They’re not medicine, they’re just friendly little dried fruits — normal fruits — that taste good and are healthy and are easy to eat because they come in zip-loc bags or canisters that you can open real quick to pop one out. Trader Joe’s sells a nice bag of them for a few dollars, I don’t remember how much exactly.

And now that we’re here, it’s clear to me that this post should’ve been called How Not to Defend Prunes, as I’ve used the words “gross” “shit yourself” and “laxative,” and have included the ugliest picture of prunes I could find, somehow. (They’re usually a lot less rumpled and morel-y looking.) And I was unable to provide an accurate price for the brand I recommend, and also I had no idea about the laxative chemical before I started writing this, which was kind of the bedrock of my defense — that prunes aren’t actually the toothless granny food — but oh well. They’re good, I swear to god. Eat them. Until you shit yourself, I guess. TGIF, though, also. As both apology and explanation.