by Rebecca Rhodes
The beginning of fall may be a day marked on a calendar, but it is the changing color of the leaves, the exchange of t-shirts for flannels and the chilly nights spent around a campfire that truly define the harvest season. This excitement translates into a new beginning; it feels like anything can happen. All is perfect except for one detail: pumpkin spice.
Let me sum up my feelings for this autumn fiend in one paragraph. If pumpkin spice was a member of a band, it would be Kevin Jonas. If pumpkin spice was a class, it would be “How to Eat Garbage 101.” Pumpkin spice is the reason we cannot have nice things. Now that my animosity for this flavor is understood, let’s move to why I’ve accumulated such a distaste.
The title, pumpkin spice, along with the orange coloring and pumpkin pie pictures on advertisements, bear false witness to the masses. In reality, that little McCormick bottle contains allspice, cinnamon, cloves, ginger and nutmeg. Did you read pumpkin anywhere in that list? Let me get my reading glasses…no, I still do not see it.
We are now at the meat of the article. Yes, this is where I talk about the beloved Pumpkin Spice Latte from Starbucks that has millennials Snapchatting for days. I apologize for not liking the taste of sugar, artificial flavoring and caramel color (no matter how much whipped cream is on top). Wait, I do not apologize for having an opinion.
But, we all have a diversion to certain foods like brussel sprouts, spaghetti and meatloaf. The refusal of such dishes can stem from: mom forcing you to eat fish every Thursday, or maybe, your tastebuds just do not take a liking to the bitter crunch of spinach. My stance against Starbuck’s signature drink stems from a deeper conflict I have carried since the tender age of one.
We all have that crazy, overbearing family member that insists you try a bite of every recipe that comes out of their oven. One fine Thanksgiving, I was fortunate enough to be subject to such an instance. Let’s just say that a one-year-old does not fare well when pumpkin pie is shoved into their mouth at 375 degrees.
With that being said, it is safe to assume I am not a fan of the beloved and classic, Thanksgiving dessert. Sigmund Freud would probably want to delve deeper into the matter, but just accept the simple fact that the intense flavors found in pumpkin spice, and therefore pumpkin pie, are just too much to handle.
These two reasons may seems irrational, but I am not denying anyone of the right to drink the beverage of their choice. You can drink Coca-Cola with an expiration date from 2013 for all I care. I just believe the pumpkin spice craze has gone too far. Ladies and gentleman, I have seen the Instagram posts of you getting your hair colored a shade of pumpkin spice. By the way, this is a brunette base with ginger undertones.
As pumpkin spice rises, it will eventually fall. Soon, the cult following will fizzle out like a drop of marshmallow on an open flame. For now, I will enjoy being in the 28 percent of Americans who do not enjoy this fall frenzy. Instead, I will cuddle up with a warm cup of cider and watch from the outside of this ever going phenomenon.