I'm sure many of you are stunned to discover that I'm not a member of the Internation Federation of Competitve Eating. But if I were, I think I would rule the edamame category. It sometimes scares me how fast and how many of those green little bastards I can eat. I'm like a tornado of soybean-devouring wrath.
In a single motion, I pick up an edamame pod. Grabbing each end with my finger and thumb, I put the edamame in front of my mouth, just past the lips. And I squeeze. The beans rapidly pop into my mouth and head straight to the legume afterlife. All this happens in .001 seconds, or about two flaps of a hummingbird's wings.
My girlfriend put a steaming bowl of salted edamame in front of me last night while we were watching "Howl's Moving Castle," and within a couple of minutes all that was left was a large pile of discarded green, furry skins.
It's a good thing I'm only presented with edamame in limited quantities, like in those tiny wooden bowls in Japanese restaurants; because then I'm eventually forced to stop my ravenous consumption. I shudder to think what would happen if there was no limit. Because I wouldn't stop. I'd just keep squeezing and eating, squeezing and eating - until I'd wiped out the entire edamame race.
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