Banana and Me: A Volatile Relationship

Every morning I eat a banana. I love them, and I sort of need to eat them (another peculiar health issue; survival of the fittest is SO two centuries ago) so each morning I wrestle with the stubborn banana top, pull down the peel and deal with the most disgusting of all fruit enigmas: banana strings. On my list of Vile Everyday Items, they occupy the spot just behind dirty band-aids and wayward toenails.

But this morning, I was a little lax with my (usually) meticulous peeling process. I took a bite of banana and noticed something hard that tasted relatively bitter. Oh God, NO! I could feel the limp banana string near my lips, so I reached in with my fingernails and pulled out the offending item. It was a big one, and even though I had taken a few chomps at it, it remained unscathed. What are these things made of?

So, naturally, I went on the web to find out, and now after many years of waging full-blown war on banana strings, I feel a little guilty. As it turns out, according to the Chiquita website, banana strings have a name: Phloem Bundles. Phloem is pronounced “flom” by the way. Phlegm with an o? Groders.

Except, they have an important purpose. Phloem bundles carry nutrients to the fruit, so I guess they are sort of like veins in a human (which I realize carry blood, but seem equally important).

In other words, I just want to apologize to the banana strings. I had no idea how important you guys are. From now on, while I will still avoid eating you, I will no longer unceremoniously toss you in the trash with an overly dramatic “Ew!” I will stop dangling you guys in front of my sister in an effort to emphasize your foulness and, most importantly, I will spread the word of the gifts you give to bananas everywhere.

The only issue might be remembering the name. My head is already filled to the brim with useless information, like the height of Mt. Rainier (14, 411) and the scientific name for a cicada’s naughty bits (thanks to Peapod: bursa copulatrix). But I’m going to do my best. Oh, and I suppose it goes without saying, but banana strings no longer reside in my top ten list of Vile Everyday Items. They’ve been replaced by the detached black hairs occasionally found in restaurant fare.













These bananas seem a little peeved after years of injustice. Can you blame them?