The Celery Blues

I'm generally known for having a penchant for odd vegetables. Some of my friends appreciate this, but there are others who run screaming every time I suggest making Brussels sprouts, kohlrabi, or whatever else happens to be on the menu. Which is why I find the following conversation even more amusing than it would otherwise be:

I'm standing in my friend's kitchen. I've just pulled a celery stalk from the bunch I purchased moments before at the supermarket. I'm pretty excited, because I haven't seen a celery bunch in many months. Living in California, the land of year round greens, I never realized that celery is a highly seasonal vegetable in other parts of the world.

Me: (crunch. crunch.)
Friend: What are you eating?
Me: Celery.
Friend: Celery? I don't think I've ever seen that before.
Me: Really? I know I can't find it very often, but you've never had it before? Here, try a piece.
Friend (crunching thoughtfully): Ugh! It's so bitter! It's even more bitter than celery root!
Me: Well, yeah, but... it's crunchy. And, um, it's not really that bitter. I mean... it's sort of salty and tangy, too.
Friend: Are you sure you're supposed to eat it raw?
Me: Of course! This is a totally normal American snack food. You should try it with cream cheese. Or peanut butter! (pause) Oh, man, I wish I had some peanut butter.
Friend: You eat that with peanut butter? Really?? God, you Americans eat some strange things.

Upon further consideration, I understand why it isn't a very popular vegetable over here. All the celery I've encountered thus far has been painfully sub-par. The stalks are somehow the wrong density; they end up too watery and stringy, and they're more tough than crunchy.

The flavor is there. It still works as a soup additive. But I really can't blame anyone for not wanting it on their veggie platter.