Mariani ApricotsAges ago I had a difficult time with the music of Bob Dylan and Miles Davis - I simply couldn’t figure these guys out. Genius is often misunderstood.

With repeated listenings, however, I learned to relax and let the music speak to me instead of trying to smother it with my own expectations. In the light of maturity (albeit an increasingly myopic light) I can’t conceive of a world without the music of these two musical legends.

Some things are worth a second listen, a second look.

Or, in the snack world, (can you see this coming?) a second taste.

Noble intentions in tow, I would venture back to the land of Mariani after my initial encounter with their Chocolate Yogurt Raisins.

The bag called to me from the supermarket shelf with a siren song, epic images of Homeric grandeur filling my head with promises of exotic adventure and threats of thrilling mayhem. Mariani Mediterranean Apricots.

Perhaps I was drawn by the tantalizing orange package with its symbolic yellow rays of sunshine heralding a new day, a bright metaphor for new beginnings. In exchange for a paltry three dollars, all of this was mine.

I journeyed home across vast seas of asphalt, anticipating the succulent discs that would have made King Akhenaten and Queen Nefertiti swoon. Once safely inside my own Ithaca, I indulged.

Hmmm. In college I remembered The Iliad being rather dry and boring in parts - just like this first apricot. I dug deeper into the bag only to find the next half-dollar-sized piece as void of flavor and texture as the first: it was like eating monkey fingers, or how I imagine monkey fingers would taste, and not even exotic Mediterranean monkey fingers.

I vowed to eat ten more in search of tastier apricots. The result: 30% success. Yes, only three out of ten matched any previous delightful experiences I’ve ever had with dried apricots. The Mariani website mentions the words “sweet” and “lush” twice in the same paragraph to describe their apricots. Sorry, but “bland” and “dry” were closer to the truth.

Warning: If you’re a microwaveaholic like me, DO NOT “wave” these, not even for a few seconds. They will swell up immediately and the tiny flecks of apricot skin will catch on fire and make your kitchen smell like burnt Fox Terrier (no offense, Bentley).

The Mariani bag now sits atop my fridge collecting dust.

Romantic sap that I am, I feel bad for the Mariani family. They seem to try so hard to please, and they have such a long history of fruit growing and drying. I wanted to like their products, but alas I could not.

One bright spot: Mariani Mediterranean Apricots are chock full of potassium and fiber. I mean, they’re loaded with it! As can be expected after such a quick and hefty consumption of high-fiber fruit, I spent quality time that afternoon catching up on my reading in the tiniest room in my house, if you know what I mean. Ahem.

Later in the week I shook the bag around and tried more apricots - same result: dull and dry rather than sweet and lush.

Still, the rear of the package features a recipe for Banana-Apricot Nut Bread that sounds simple and delicious. Oh, those Marianis, bless their hearts. I so want to love their products.

As cliched as it sounds, maybe the third time will be the charm.

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