The end of the 19th century there's this urban legend that boys in Kalamazoo would show up to dates bearing stocks of celery with a ribbon tied around

them instead of a bouquet of roses.

This is Maya Croth.

She's a freelance writer and radio producer, and she is obsessed with celery.

It's a phrase I never thought I would hear you to describe me either, but yeah,

after you write thousands of words about celery, I guess you become an obsessive.

It kind of happened by accident.

It all started when Maya was writing a piece about the history of Kalamazoo, Michigan,

also known as Celery City.

I was researching the history of Kalamazoo and its claim to fame originally was that it was the

World Celery Capital, like Kalamazoo celery was known all over the

country it was served in the finest restaurants in New York City.

Maya fell down a celery rabbit hole, which is only slightly less ironic than a carrot rabbit hole.

And I came across this book by a British journalist named George Augustus Sala.

He was traveling through the US in around 1879 and he talks a lot about

celery. Like he goes to a market in New York and he notices there is an inexhaustible

plentitude of the health-giving celery which American diners almost

incessantly nibble on from the beginning to the end of their repasts.

And I'm just like, I'm trying to envision this Victorian table

with all these fancy lords and ladies like nibbling on celery seems so weird and he's talks about stewed celery raw

celery mashed celery there he's it really comes up in this manuscript a lot

he's on a steam ship across the Atlantic and he notices the

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