One Grape, One Radish

I am eating one large grape. I want to chew as slowly as possible to savor every molecule of juice. One large green grape can elevate an entire day. Green seedless grapes from California are all the inspiration you need to make the world a better place. Play it forward. Go outside and hand a grape to someone. Repeat the process. You will feel better about everything.
Black and red grapes are almost as good. Okay, just as delicious. We're talking seedless, of course. There is no conceivable reason to eat grapes full of seeds, not when you have a choice. If you're in a Third World country and that's all they have, knock yourself out. But not in the US.
Which brings me to radishes. I have had a checkered history with this strange food. When I'm feeling really good about the world and take a bite of a radish, it slams me back to reality quick. A radish is like an annoying co-worker. Not aggravating enough to scream at, but irritating enough to leave a depressing aftertaste. Radishes must have nutritional value or they wouldn't be legal. They certainly clear out your sinuses. But they are cheap shot artists, tangy taste sneaking up on you, as opposed to hot peppers which unashamedly attack your palate.
Don't try eating radishes and grapes together. Radishes fight dirty and will poison grapes before they reach the stomach. Grapes are life affirming. Radishes are evil, belonging in Dante's Sixth Circle of Hell. Maybe that's where they were created.