Pineapples suck

Pineapples kinda stink

Let’s talk about pineapples. Not in the “Instagrammable tropical fruit” kind of way, or even the “pineapples on pizza” argument that never seems to die. No, I want to talk about pineapples in all their complex, contradictory glory—because this fruit is a botanical enigma that looks like a medieval weapon, tastes like sunshine, and burns your tongue if you get too comfortable with it.

Believe me—I would know. I once left a chunk of pineapple in my mouth for 5 minutes just to see what would happen. And, reader, something did happen. But we’ll get to that.

A Brief History of the Pineapple

Pineapples (scientific name Ananas comosus) are native to South America, likely originating in the area between southern Brazil and Paraguay. Indigenous peoples cultivated them long before Europeans ever laid eyes on this strange spiky orb.

The name “pineapple” was coined by early European explorers who thought the fruit resembled a pine cone. This is perhaps the least creative part of pineapple history—imagine naming the moon “Sky Rock” and calling it a day.

The pineapple is actually a multiple fruit, which means it’s formed from a cluster of flowers. Each of those hexagonal "eyes" on the surface is a fruitlet. All of them fuse together around a central core. It’s like nature’s version of crowd-sourced agriculture.

This might explain why pineapples have such an unusual structure. The skin is a mosaic of geometric scales, the leaves are stiff and sword-like, and the flesh inside is a golden yellow with a flavor that teeters between sweetness and acidity.

And that’s where things get interesting.

Why Pineapple Hurts (a Lot)

Let’s go back to that unfortunate 5-minute pineapple experience. At first, everything was fine. The fruit was sweet, juicy, and fragrant—just as expected. I was trying to be mindful, to really experience the pineapple. So I held it on my tongue, letting it slowly dissolve, savoring every drop of juice.

By minute three, I noticed a tingling sensation—almost like carbonation. Then came the burn. Not a spicy, chili-pepper burn, but more of a slow chemical unraveling. By minute five, I was practically tapping out. My tongue felt like it had been rubbed with sandpaper and then lit on fire.

What happened?

Pineapples contain an enzyme called bromelain, which breaks down proteins. That’s right: when you eat pineapple, it’s also eating you. Specifically, your tongue and the sensitive tissues in your mouth.

Bromelain is used as a meat tenderizer for this very reason. It literally digests proteins. So when I held that pineapple in my mouth for five minutes, I was giving it a front-row seat to a free protein buffet. Pineapple and Culinary Culture

Despite its hostile tendencies, pineapple is beloved worldwide. In Southeast Asia, it’s used in curries and savory dishes. In Mexico, it’s grilled and dusted with chili powder. In Hawaii—yes, we’re going there—it’s paired with ham on pizza, a combination that sparks debates hotter than a cast iron pan left in the sun.

Pineapple juice is also a common ingredient in marinades, partly because of its flavor, and partly because of the aforementioned bromelain. It breaks down meat fibers, making even tough cuts tender and juicy. But use it carefully—leave meat in a pineapple marinade too long, and you’ll end up with mush.

I suppose this is how I felt during that infamous 5-minute pineapple challenge: like a tough steak being slowly transformed into pineapple puree.

Growing Pineapples: The Long Game

If you think pineapples are easy to grow, think again. From planting to harvest, it can take up to two years to produce a single fruit. That’s a long time to wait for something that might incinerate your tongue.

Most commercial pineapples come from tropical regions like Costa Rica, the Philippines, Thailand, and Indonesia. The plants require consistent warmth and don’t tolerate frost. Each plant yields just one pineapple at a time, although it can regrow and produce again in subsequent seasons.

What’s fascinating is that you can grow your own pineapple from the crown—the leafy top—of a store-bought fruit. Just twist it off, let it dry for a day or two, and then plant it in soil. But patience is key. It will be at least 18 months before you get any action, and even then, your pineapple might take revenge for that long wait by burning your mouth anew.

(Yes, I did this once. And yes, I left a piece of homegrown pineapple in my mouth for another five minutes. This time, I prepared myself—but it still won.)

Nutritional Benefits: Sweet with a Side of Ouch

For all its drama, pineapple is actually very good for you. It’s rich in vitamin C, manganese, and antioxidants. Bromelain, the enzyme that tried to dissolve my tongue, also has anti-inflammatory properties. It’s been studied for its potential to reduce swelling, improve digestion, and even help with sinus infections.

But again, moderation is everything. If you eat too much in one sitting—or hold it in your mouth while watching YouTube videos like I did—you risk irritating your mouth, lips, and throat. Some people even develop small sores or rashes.

One tip to reduce the burn? Try soaking pineapple slices in salt water or grilling them. Both methods help neutralize the enzyme activity a bit. Still, nothing completely removes bromelain, so it’s best to enjoy this fruit with some level of caution. And maybe a stopwatch.

Pineapple in Pop Culture

Pineapples have also enjoyed a weirdly robust life in pop culture. They're emblazoned on shirts, earrings, doormats, and wedding invitations. It’s hard to name another fruit that can look equally appropriate on a cocktail garnish and a luxury towel.

This makes it all the more hilarious to me that the fruit's true nature is mildly sadistic. Behind all the tropical charm and Pinterest appeal is a fruit that is, quite literally, trying to digest you while you digest it.

And if you forget that, just try holding a piece of it in your mouth for five minutes.

Final Thoughts: Pineapple, the Beautiful Menace

So what have we learned?

Pineapple is a paradox. It’s a fruit that is both a delicacy and a chemical weapon. It’s beautiful to look at, delicious to taste, and treacherous if you let your guard down. It’s slow to grow, fast to devour, and leaves a mark—sometimes literally—on anyone who gets too close.

Am I still eating pineapples? Absolutely. But I chew quickly, avoid eye contact, and never, ever leave it in my mouth for five minutes.

Learn from my mistakes. Love the pineapple, respect the pineapple—but don’t underestimate it. You’ll never look at fruit salad the same way again.