Love the wit Pawan; must admit I never completely relaxed by thinking only of a vegetable before. I am a fellow metaphorer; I also love cucumber.
My husband grows Lebanese Cucumbers in his veggie garden. We get hundreds. I eat them when they are only as long as a fat finger. Munch through five or so straight off the vine for a snack.
Baby cucumbers at the top are warmed by the sun. They are hot. This is usually awful for any vegetable and only good for some fruit. Sunned yellow peaches are, year after year, my favourite thing to eat on Christmas Day. A delicacy that rivals turkey, trimmings, indulgent chocolates and puddings. But only when plucked off the tree with my daughter for breakfast, when the summer sun has heated them to the perfect degree. But that’s another story. Not a lot of natural raw foods taste good warm to hot.
Anyway, I munch and crunch crisp baby cucumbers when they are ripe, but tiny. Bringing home a small bucket full to refrigerate. Enchanting chilled or warm, I don’t like them at room temperature.
One of the best things about cucumbers is that they are a negative calorie food. There isn’t many. Lettuce, zucchini, snow peas, celery, perhaps a large raw carrot or massive red capsicum have few kilojoules, but only cucumbers have so few they don’t count.
Low joule is all about raw and packed with water. The effort it takes to pluck, rinse, bite into, crunch and digest a cucumber straight up, especially after bending over in the garden searching for perfect specimens, uses more energy than that contained in the veg. Cucumbers are the ultimate diet food.
I must admit, I never equated them with penises before. Never sexualised them; after all, I do not wait until the long green ones are a foot long to gobble. Don’t think I want to either; I prefer mine sweet, young and juicy…the cucumbers that is.