enough with the tiger nuts already

Tiger nuts. Really? Not nuts at all. Oh, but they’re tubers, you say? That’s supposed to be impressive. Why even call them tiger nuts? Maybe the name is supposed to sound exotic, which totally masks that they’re basically wrinkled up little potatoes. Imagine being excited about putting glorified, shriveled potatoes in your cereal. It’s hilarious, or sad, or maybe both. They’re like that awkward kid at the party trying to fit in by claiming to be something they’re not. ‘Oh hey, I’m a nut!’ No, you’re a tuber. Sit down.

And all this talk about prebiotic fiber. Since when did I need a fancy name for what amounts to eating more fiber? We need fiber, sure, but do we really need marketing teams pumping out ads about how tiger nuts will basically save our lives? AIP friendly, nut-free…safe for school lunchboxes? Fantastic, except most kids would probably rather trade them for a candy bar once they see what they’re stuck with. It’s no wonder I still see them sitting on shelves. Whoever thought they could be the next big thing in groceries probably thinks filming yourself making a ramen cake is a Michelin-star hobby.

If you’re looking for something to chew on that’s just so eccentric in its blandness, I mean, fine—I guess you could give them a whirl. But if you actually believe these little tubers stand a chance against almonds or peanuts at a party, I’ve got some beachfront property in the Sahara to sell you. I’m just done pretending that chewing on these ridiculous things is somehow the key to ultimate wellness. But if you’re still intrigued by these so-called miracles of nature, don’t let my cynicism stop you. Whatever.