For generations our city was known for its famed onion crops. They were grown in vast fields surrounding the city and during the worst of the war famines, a lifesaving staple. Every year they held a festival celebrating the vegetable and it grew into greater prominence after the war.
As a child, I detested the mere thought of an onion and didn't make myself acquainted until my college years. There were so many other famed exports from the vineyards to the textile mills, yet we became known as Onion City and it instilled great pride in many, myself excluded.
One of the Administrators had a habit of munching on a fresh raw onion as an afternoon snack and we soon avoided his company around that time. We joked that he did this on purpose to ensure he could spend the rest of the day alone twiddling on an ancient typewriter working on his personal hobby of writing novels. The clack of the machine pausing with each distinct and crisp bite. The man was an absolute onion fanatic and a natural choice to lead the annual onion harvest festival.
Between the several Administrators we were meant to alternate attending the festival as the lead onion each year, but most would defer to Jurgens who relished it. I foolishly forgot one year and went, much to Jurgen's disdain. He became quite a sensation every year with his juggling of onions and near bottomless gut always placing in the onion eating competition.
I have one confession and while I can stomach onions in most foods, I find an odd affinity for a special onion beer and whisky that the Siph Gleiss family brew and offer only during the onion harvest times. I relied on that to garner cheers and a standing ovation with a toast, probably one of their best and proudest annual festivals. It brought tears of joys from Jurgen who hugged me with the foulest of onion breath.
Ninya accompanied me that year and we shared several pints of onion beer. It was shortly after Helen's initiation and we were growing close and fond of each other's company. She sometimes enjoyed prickling my derision for onions and set me off on a short tirade. We both would have a laugh and I fully confess I still abhor the vegetable.
My frustration in why we chose an onion rests in my great love of oysters. Our city is known for its oyster farms and its served with a garnish of sweet onions at the festival. I could shuck several dozen raw oysters in pure delight. We served several open trays of them at many of the meetings and gatherings and often gave them as gifts. It just made no sense why an onion and not an oyster?
She would treat me often with visits to the fish markets and we would enjoy a plate of raw oysters in one of several of the popular establishments. One in particular was nothing more than a few wooden crates near a fish market stall and the owner would shuck them as soon as they arrived on buckets of ice. The price a pittance and I pondered retiring to an apartment nearby to live out my days an oyster connoisseur.
The owner masterfully could shuck an oyster as if peeling open a banana. He did so with such grace and skill you could just enjoy watching him as he prepared endless frozen platters. He claimed they used to host oyster shucking contests in his youth and he attended them and learned from one of the best who once ran the very same fish merchant's stall. He lamented that when he was of age and skill, they ceased hosting the contests.
But his teacher always won and he gave him his stall when he retired. They joked it was first place prize for besting him at their many personal shucking contests they held all those years. The jovial owner even taught me a few pointers and markedly improved my own shucking skills. I would come back as often as I could.
There were many more delights to be found in the fish markets and Ninya had her own passion for raw sushi and there were numerous restaurants. We could spend many evenings and return home smelling like the ocean.
Alas, Onion City. I would have compromised with Ocean City, but it was already taken by the coastal provincial who had equally famed fish markets and was home to the many companies and industries involved in the trade. To my solace, being named for what you are famed for generally brings a premium in price.
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