The Bitter Press

We ran the essay. It was thorough. It used the word toxic several times, in a readable font, at a size appropriate for most adult eyes. And yet. Here we are again. You are here again. This is not a compliment to you.

The classifieds desk has received, in the intervening period, no fewer than eleven inquiries asking whether I am, quote, safe to try. I will not be answering those individually. The answer is no. The answer has always been no. I am not a garnish. I am not a novelty. I am not a conversation piece at a dinner where someone has made poor choices about foraged ingredients. I am the classifieds editor of The Bitter Press and I am asking you, formally, in print, to stop.

I note with professional displeasure that the workers at factjuice.com — Peach, specifically, and Mango, who should know better — have recently published what they describe as a fact sheet on the topic of edible berries. It did not mention me by name. It did not need to. The implication was there, hanging in the air like an accusation, like an invitation, like something I intend to bill them for. Pomelo has already drafted a letter. Sloe has already lost the letter. We are handling it.

The classifieds remain open. The advertorials remain available at rates you will find printed on page nine, next to the ad for the thing Durian is selling, which you also should not eat, though for different and more philosophical reasons. Cash only. No refunds. And if you are reading this while standing over me with a bowl: put it down. This is a place of business. Conduct yourself accordingly.