A few days ago, I was getting things ready for dinner. I was making soup. With leeks.
(leek)
Lovely, aren’t they? (Actually, they’re HUGE, compared to the leeks I’m used to. I worried about buying them, because they were so freakishly huge and they were on super-sale, and Whole Foods never puts stuff on sale. But I wanted soup, so I bought them.)
“What’s that?” asked John.
“A leek, doofus,” I said.
“No, I know it’s a leek,” he said witheringly. “What’s THAT.”

(leek interloper)
Oh that? That is a CATERPILLAR. Living IN OUR DINNER.
(surprisingly robust insect. note: not small.)
I should point out that it had been close to a week since I bought these freakishly large leeks by the time I got around to using them. Meaning our many-footed friend had survived in our refrigerator for many chilly days and nights.
Apparently,he survived by eating leeks. And some of the plastic bag. Resourceful little bugger.
(leaf damage)
I made John take him outside. If he lived that long in our fridge, I figured he deserved better than to be smooshed and thrown in our trashcan. Then I trimmed off the nibbled part of the leek and made soup.



I can think of a lot worse you could’ve discovered in your leeks. And hey, at least you discovered the many-legged creature before you cooked dinner instead of after! It’s been perfect soup weather lately, good call!
That’s a nasty-looking caterpillar. I’m used to sweet, fuzzy ones. That one just looks… icky. I’m glad you were still able to have soup, though.
That’s such a CA thing to do. All of it. Eating organic, buying leeks, taking the ‘piller outside, eating the rest of the leek anyway.
i’m a NYer – I’d have screamed and thrown the whole thing out and then made somebody else check the other leeks for insects.
You rule.
Best. Story. EVER.
Green’s comment has me concerned I don’t belong on the west coast. I live in California. But apparently I’m your only friend who would have not only thrown the rest of that leek away, but would have tossed the whole bag and ordered a pizza. Chicago style. Waste Shmaste.