It made me a little reflective yesterday, actually. I was cutting this and peeling that and chopping the other thing, and it brought back memories of produce past. Without further ado, here's some Froot of My Yoot.
Plums -- My dad was crazy for plums. When they were in season, my mom could not buy too many. He'd fool with the thing for a bit, nibbling and breaking the skin, then twirl it around and get the good stuff, then suck that pit dry. Nary a drop got on his shirt. Somehow he did it without dislodging his dental bridge. He was a maestro with the stone fruit.
Blueberries -- I have always loved blueberries, but the best I have ever had or probably ever will have were wild blueberries in Scandinavia. I'm not bragging; our trip there when I was a child was 90% family business, not because mater and pater thought it would be broadening. But it was amazing, and the woods seemed to be full of wild blueberries, a powerful sweet flavor. We were sent to gather some with our distant cousins and had quite a treat. If I ever go back, I am going in the summertime and leaving everyone and running into the woods with a basket until I find some.
Mangoes -- We were not mango people. They weren't as widely available in my childhood as they are now, but I do recall Mom buying one to try it. I was put off by the flavor, as it was not one of the Four Fruit Flavor Groups with which I was familiar, those being Omnipresent (apples, bananas, grapes), Summer (plums, peaches, nectarines), Floridian (oranges, grapefruit), and Candy (Jolly Rancher, Kool-Aid, Jell-O). Mom liked the mango flavor, but didn't like cutting it because the mango made a hell of a mess, and the only things she'd tolerate that made a hell of a mess were her kids, and those just barely. Later I came to love mangoes. I've probably peeled and cut more than a hundred of them since, and every one has been a barely avoided ER run for stitches. I'm sure there are people who make a living peeling and cutting mangoes, and I'd like to see their technique.
Strawberries -- For some reason, Dad decided one year to plant a patch of strawberries on the lawn. He was a fan, and strawberries were pricey at the time. Well, the collie next door, a pinched-brain little ditz, peed on them, and decided at that moment that there was no place else in the world upon which she'd rather pee. We didn't live in a duplex, note -- to get to our yard this dog had to escape her own yard, run down a path, down a flight of steps, leap a short fence, and run all the way across the lawn to the spot to pee on it. This dog was putting in the work. I've always treasured a good strawberry since, because we sure as hell didn't get any that year.
Blackberries -- We actually had some wild blackberries growing in a wooded area outside our property, and while they were not as memorable as the blueberries I've described above, they were pretty darn good and the price was right. The only problem was that we had to be exceptionally alert to when they were ready to pick, because the blue jays loved them even more than we did and would strip the plants in no time.
Watermelon -- Always a summer treat. Also, more of a project than a fruit. As regards the messiness factor, see mangoes, above. We didn't have a lot of barbecues at my house, but when we did, the presence of watermelon was as certain as marshmallows to roast over the charcoal embers. I don't have a lot childhood memories that other kids have -- catchin' tadpoles, playin' ball at the park, climbin' trees, goin' to summer camp -- but those times I remember very fondly. And I still like watermelon. A few years ago when the Mrs. and I were on a trip to Southern California to visit friends and family, in the arid in-state areas, we stayed at a hotel that kept a cooler full of water with watermelon in it out in the lobby. It was the most refreshing water I've ever had, and in the desert, this northern boy needed it.
Honorable mention: Nectarines and Tangerines -- When I was a kid I always thought the nectarine had to be a tangerine-like fruit because of the name, and to this day I have to remind myself it's really halfway between a peach and a plum. The confusion comes, as with so many things, from the French. The -ine suffix means like or related to or made of; the nectarine is "like nectar" and the tangerine is "from Tangier" in Morocco. Thanks, French!
How about you? Got any fond food memories to share?
3 comments:
We had mangos a few times when I was a yute. I used to think they should have been called "pineapples" as to me, they tasted like apples with a bit of piney flavor.
Mrs Fert loves mangoes, and so both of our kids do, too. They picked up the habit when we were stationed at Schofield Barracks.
Here's pretty much the method she uses to attack the mango:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sIOGC2fdvYs
I prefer lillikoi shave ice.
Thanks, Dan, for the tip! Maybe I won't kill myself on a mango. (What a dumb way to go that would be.)
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