I can scarcely open my laptop right now without being confronted with the phrase “explosive diarrhea” amid the nationwide outbreak of cyclosporiasis, a loathsome condition that causes prolonged — and potentially severe — gastrointestinal symptoms in those unlucky enough to come in contact with the microscopic parasite that causes it. As you might expect, this is putting a real damper on my enthusiasm for eating right now.
It seems especially unfair that this gnarly, diarrhea-inducing illness is coinciding with the peak of summer produce season. I want nothing more than to enjoy crisp salads dressed in tangy vinaigrettes, to snack on cold peaches straight from the freezer, and to spend excessive sums on heirloom tomatoes. My entire brain is occupied by visions of pan con tomate and fruit granitas. To make matters more painful, the farmers markets are positively replete with beautiful produce, all of which the experts are advising me to avoid eating raw until the culprit of the outbreak is sussed out. It’s currently over 90 degrees in my home state of Texas, and the thought of stewing my strawberries is bumming me the fuck out.
Cyclosporiasis is, of course, not new. It’s a condition that pops up in small numbers every single year, the result of fecal matter contaminating fresh produce, whether due to inadequate bathroom facilities for farmworkers or via some other point of contamination before it arrives in your supermarket. Experts think the outbreak could be connected to lettuce, some of which might have been served at Taco Bell restaurants, but over the past few weeks, every single bite of uncooked produce has felt a little bit like playing Russian roulette with your colon.
The outbreak is exacerbated by the fact that our food safety infrastructure is more useless than ever. Trump appointees have decimated the Food and Drug Administration and the pathogen detection programs the agency operated, including specifically pulling back on monitoring cyclospora. This distrust makes the outbreak even scarier, because there’s no collective confidence that anyone is doing anything to end the outbreak anytime soon. Are we stuck cooking our berries forever? Will we ever be able to safely have a salad again?
I also can’t let myself think too much about the fact that some people, including the man who is in charge of overseeing our food safety agencies, are actively seeking out encounters with foodborne parasites and bacterias. They’re chugging raw milk, drinking “raw water” from dirty old creek beds, and screwing around with “rebel canning” methods that can give people botulism. It’s the defining irony of our time that we have more access to information than ever and a not-insignificant minority of people are literally willing to shit themselves to ignore it.
Even if the culprit is clearly identified and completely removed from supermarket shelves, the specter of foodborne illness lingers. If you end up with cyclosporiasis, it may make you think twice about eating a salad for months or years, and who could blame you? Nobody wants to eat a food they associate with debilitating stomach cramps and possible hospitalization. And if you have been lucky enough to avoid consuming food contaminated with the parasite, you’re still wondering which bite is going to be the one that infects you. It’s a terrible way to live!
Adding this to the pile of horrible shit going on in the world feels like adding insult to injury. ICE is still murdering people in the streets, our geriatric legislative overlords are dropping like flies, and who even knows what’s going on with the war in Iran right now. I can’t even open the Threads app without being completely bombarded with people’s graphic descriptions of their bowel movements and sharing their theories on what is causing the outbreak, making clear that the broader societal rot has, in fact, ruined something else important to me.
I know eventually that the news cycle will move on from cyclosporiasis, probably because there will be some new and exciting health condition or parasite for me to worry about. Cyclosporiasis will continue happening, and so will the explosive diarrhea that it causes, but it won’t be as exciting as whatever new health horror we’ve moved onto in a few weeks or months. But I’m not sure that I will ever be the same after this outbreak, which is going to have me side-eyeing fresh greens for the foreseeable future.
It is bizarre to be pining for a plate of lightly dressed lettuce, but my mouth is actually watering at the thought. A younger me might have relished the opportunity to avoid leafy greens with impunity, but it’s also about a hundred degrees outside, and it’s not even August yet. I can’t even get a little bit of relief from the relentless heat in the form of a bowl of chilled berries, or enjoy a chicken Caesar salad wrap while sitting on the side of the pool??
Not being able to eat a damn vegetable without fear is perhaps the stupidest experience this timeline could have brought us, and I’ll admit that I’m irrationally enraged about it. This breakdown in our food safety infrastructure is just another colossal leap forward in the literal enshittification of everything, one that has people out here actually pooping themselves.
New On Ravenous This Week
Jaya Saxena
Ashok Selvam
Ashok Selvam
🐦⬛ Bird Droppings
- If you're (reasonably) looking to minimize your cyclosporiasis risk, Bon Appetit's got a guide for that.
- Not to keep making it about parasites, but over at Defector, Sabrina Embler wrote a great piece on why this parasite is scarier — and grosser — than others.
- Haley Popp, the owner of Hive Bakery in Flower Mound, Texas, keeps pissing off MAGA, and her business is booming.
Raven Nickname of the Week: Nori
This week’s nickname comes courtesy of Ravenous regular Gabby, who nicknamed our beloved bird after her own favorite pet: her cat, Nori. Gabby actually has two cats with excellent food-themed names, Nori & Kimchi, but she says that Nori is “much more raven-like than Kimchi.”
“Much like a raven, she's very smart and curious about the world, is good at communicating, and has an aura of mystery around her,” Gabby says.
Want to nickname the bird? Become a Regular, it’s one of the perks! And if you want to know the raven’s real name, become a Big Spender today.
