Ode to the Lime

Ah, the lime, an old friend you don’t talk to much anymore. Last you heard, he’s sunbathing somewhere in Mexico, infuriated because no matter where he goes, he’s forever standing in the shadow of the lemon!

Time and time again I walk into Whole Foods and am greeted with an unnecessarily large pile of lemons glistening smugly in the grocery store light. Below them is usually a measly bin of limes kicked around and tripped over by shoppers (“they might be related to Lyme disease, prove to me they’re not”). These sad excuses for people don’t see the lime for what it really is — the greatest citrus fruit on the planet. 

To start, there’s so many types of limes to admire. Most commonly, you’ve got your normal grocery store lime, the Tahiti lime. It’s also called the Bearss lime which I give 5 points for creative spelling. Then there's the more bitter key lime, which actually turns yellow when ripe. Thankfully, people pick it while it's still green because they know better than to let it turn into anything akin to a dastardly lemon. There’s also the Makrut lime, so spectacularly sour that all you need to incorporate in a dish is a dash of its leaves or rind (you’d be hard pressed to find cold-pressed Makrut lime juice because most mortals cannot handle its raw sourness).

Besides 10 more points for being green, the best color, what unites all these lime variations? The taste. In fact, in lemon-lime flavored drinks, it’s been scientifically proven by my taste buds that the lime does the heavy lifting. Therefore, they should be called lime-lemon. And when you drink lemonade and think about how divine it tastes, don’t lie to your sick soul that it's the lemon that tastes good — you know it’s the sugar.

Now, let’s talk about the lime plant itself which is impressive in its own right. First, It’s got spikes like a baby stegosaurus all over its branches. 7 Points for that. Second, It’s self-pollinating, meaning it’ll reproduce without any input from another plant, as does any plant that actually takes pride in itself. 5 Points. Third, If you rip a leaf like a sheet of paper, it’ll release a pleasant lime scent —the limeness permeates throughout the entire plant. 6 points. Sure, lemon leaves do the same, but who wants a tree that smells like a recently cleaned bathroom. Finally, it’s rewarding to see the branches go from a youthful dark green to a mature elephant gray as they age and start fruiting those precious edible emeralds (6 points).  

I have added up the points for a resounding final score: Lime 39, Lemon 0. Proof that it's time to give the lime its limelight.