We ate food in the shower (so that you don’t have to)
Food! We all eat it. Showers! We all take them. But food and showers together? Dangerous territory, at least until now. A recent NPR article delved into a strange question that’s been taking over Reddit—does eating oranges in the shower make them taste better? As members of a highly revered campus newspaper that no one ever makes fun of, we at Student Life find it to be our duty to investigate this topic further. We decided to also try eating a shower orange, but since we’re also light masochists, we figured we’d test it out with a couple of other snacks. Here are some things that we tried eating in the shower:
Harry’s pick: Orange
I turn on the shower, and steam fills the room. I pare my shower orange with the coveted one-piece peel. You should not eat one segment at a time, as you would in the cold, sticky world. Instead take a hefty bite out of its flank, as one would with the veritable “Pomme de Terre Eden.” Juice spills from its interior, but I do not mind. My Deleuzian state will take care. Unlike the popular shower beer—or “eau du matin,” in the original French—a shower orange cannot be consumed in media res, but before one attacks dirt and grime with suds and soap. I savor this gustatory orgy fit for the divine. Not Athena, nor Zeus, no—I am Orangina: goddess of shower oranges, feasting on this nectarine banquet under a tropical waterfall. Unnecessary, yes, but like art, love and war, I eat oranges in the shower because I can. Then I finish, wash and leave the bathroom, and my roommate asks me what’s with my 20-minute shower and what’s with the orange peel, and I say, “Silence, simple mortal! How dare you question my divine authority!” And he bows down.
That’s what I expected to happen when I ate a shower orange, anyway. The actual result wasn’t really like that. Yeah, I mean—it was alright. I kind of just had to stand there for five minutes and eat it. No mess, so that was kind of cool. –Harry Hall
Rima’s pick: Pabst Blue Ribbon
Drinking in the shower is a pretty popular phenomenon (i.e. having a shower beer), but I’ve never done it. This week, I decided to experiment with a cold Pabst Blue Ribbon, otherwise known as the “Finest of All Beers”—or, at the very least, the “Finest of All Beers Currently in My Refrigerator.” I crack open the can, swill it like it’s a fancy glass of wine and take a few sips of it before hopping in the shower. I don’t know why I try it beforehand. It’s a PBR. It’s bubbly and tastes like water and melted scrap metal.
Logistically, I’m not sure when I’m going to fit the time in to drink this shower beer. I don’t like wasting time in the shower, especially when I have so much to accomplish. I gotta shampoo my hair! I gotta put conditioner in my hair! I have to cover a loofah in shower gel! I gotta use the loofah to clean my body! I have to wash out the conditioner! I have to shave (well, I don’t HAVE to)! I have to wash my face! When am I even going to squeeze in time to enjoy my PBR? I reconcile this issue by drinking a third of it at the beginning of my shower. The first few sips taste pretty ordinary. I like the contrast between the cold, condensation-droplet-covered can with the steam of the shower, but the taste isn’t any better. I leave it to rest on the bathtub ledge. I consider that soap suds might fall into the PBR, which worries me at first. But then, I remember that I’m drinking a PBR. Adding soap will only help its flavor, if anything. After a couple of minutes, I take another few sips. It tastes more diluted now, which makes sense—my shower water has been splashing its way into the can. I periodically take a few more sips. Towards the end of the shower, I finally start tasting a difference. I don’t know if the steam has done something to the flavor or if enough water has made its way into the can, but it actually tastes better. It’s diluted enough for the carbonation to be the most emphasized part of the beer. The metallic quality seems to dissipate; it tastes like slightly flavored bubbly water.
Wait a minute. Flavored bubbly water. A PBR. I’ve got it. This new concoction tastes like a PBR LaCroix. I just made PBR LaCroix. PBR. LACROIX. I’m not sure if this is a) good news for PBR b) bad news for LaCroix c) good news for me or d) bad news for me. Either way, see for yourself. I recommend trying out a PBR for your next shower beer. Once you do, come fight me at firstname.lastname@example.org. —Rima Parikh
Andie’s pick: Bagel with cream cheese
In a desperate ploy to steal a few more minutes of precious sleep from the time-crunched chaos of my mornings, I attempted to go where no student (at least not anyone I’ve ever talked to) has ever gone before. I was going to consolidate my morning routine by eating my bagel in the shower, cream cheese and all. I teetered on the threshold of my shower with my prepared bagel in hand, trying to weigh the potential benefits of revolutionizing my morning routine against the possible horror of choking down a soggy, creamy bagel. Then I took the jump and slipped into the shower, albeit with some trepidation.
In order to actually save time in the affair, I attempted to quickly eat my bagel while getting my hair wet before shampooing. For a few glorious moments, the plan worked perfectly. The bagel even seemed to taste more flavorful and rich than normal. I wondered if this was because of the humidity in the air, the novelty of eating in the shower or some sort of divine shower magic at play. No matter. I savored my bagel until the unthinkable happened. My head slipped back too far under the stream, and water cascaded down over my bagel. It began to sag slightly in my hand, and when I took a bite, the wet bagel and the cream cheese mingled unpleasantly in my mouth, making me shudder. I rapidly finished my now mushy and unappetizing breakfast and ended my shower with a faint sense of loss at what could have been.
This is certainly not a technique for the faint of heart. But, for those risk-takers with a steady hand and a lot of determination, the shower bagel may be the solution to the irresistible temptation of the snooze button. –Andie Divelbiss
Aaron’s pick: Bowl of cereal and milk
Cereal is the perfect food. It’s the ideal combination of carbohydrates and calcium, with the added excuse to consume a large amount of sugar in the early morning. The moment I stepped into the shower, the force of the water flung the cereal and milk out of the bowl, like a spoon run under the tap. Not just some of it, all of it. I hastily tried to turn off the water to salvage my breakfast, but the only thing left in the bowl was cloudy water. Now, there is Cinnamon Toast Crunch stuck to the walls, and the shower smells like milk. 0/10 would not do again. –Aaron Brezel