Looking over the box of nectarines on sale. Not sure how to pick a nectarine. The grocer must have noticed my hesitation because here he comes.
“Two ways people eat nectarines… Some people like them crunchy, some people like them soft. This one, this looks like it’s rotten, but no, it’s just ripe.”
I’m handed a very battered fruit slightly larger than a ping-pong ball. It looks like an old man wheezing.
I may not have eaten nectarine before but I’ve seen them eaten. And I’ve never seen anyone eat one that looked like that. Crunchy it is I guess.
***
My nectarine is a yin-yang swirl of deep maroon and sunset yellow, quite firm to the touch. It’s possible that I have again exercised my talent for buying fruit nowhere near ripe.
Oh, only-good-knife-in-the-staff-kitchen, how grateful we are for thee.
I cut deep across its circumference, trying to get the stone I’ve heard about out avocado-style. I try and do this with all stone fruits. Once again it doesn’t work at all: no twist.
I slice slice slice down all the sides, making little cheeks of fruit. The inside is indeed white and colourless, except around the centre where it looks as though Wolverine has slashed claw-marks through the flesh and left it bleeding bruise. Kind of awesome-looking, actually!
Taking a bite. Crunch. Crunch. It’s woody with a bit of liquid. You could say it was sweet… only because it’s not sour or salty. The flavour is more of an aftertaste, the actual bite is nothing but crisp texture and water.
Try with no skin, maybe that’s getting in the way.
Nope, skinless is just the same.
Nibble each cheek half-heartedly. Boring boring boring, so bland it’s on the verge of yuck.
Avocado, you are the only stone fruit that’s ever pleased me. Nectarine, you go the way of plum and apricot: out of my presence.
Rating:
Specifics: White flesh nectarine bought at an independent grocery in Merrylands
White Flesh Nectarine
Looking over the box of nectarines on sale. Not sure how to pick a nectarine. The grocer must have noticed my hesitation because here he comes.
“Two ways people eat nectarines… Some people like them crunchy, some people like them soft. This one, this looks like it’s rotten, but no, it’s just ripe.”
I’m handed a very battered fruit slightly larger than a ping-pong ball. It looks like an old man wheezing.
I may not have eaten nectarine before but I’ve seen them eaten. And I’ve never seen anyone eat one that looked like that. Crunchy it is I guess.
***
My nectarine is a yin-yang swirl of deep maroon and sunset yellow, quite firm to the touch. It’s possible that I have again exercised my talent for buying fruit nowhere near ripe.
Oh, only-good-knife-in-the-staff-kitchen, how grateful we are for thee.
I cut deep across its circumference, trying to get the stone I’ve heard about out avocado-style. I try and do this with all stone fruits. Once again it doesn’t work at all: no twist.
I slice slice slice down all the sides, making little cheeks of fruit. The inside is indeed white and colourless, except around the centre where it looks as though Wolverine has slashed claw-marks through the flesh and left it bleeding bruise. Kind of awesome-looking, actually!
Taking a bite. Crunch. Crunch. It’s woody with a bit of liquid. You could say it was sweet… only because it’s not sour or salty. The flavour is more of an aftertaste, the actual bite is nothing but crisp texture and water.
Try with no skin, maybe that’s getting in the way.
Nope, skinless is just the same.
Nibble each cheek half-heartedly. Boring boring boring, so bland it’s on the verge of yuck.
Avocado, you are the only stone fruit that’s ever pleased me. Nectarine, you go the way of plum and apricot: out of my presence.
Rating:
Specifics: White flesh nectarine bought at an independent grocery in Merrylands