At the Waltham India Market, 315 Moody St., Waltham, MA, I obtained two tropical mini-fruits, which are much smaller versions of full-size fruits that I have already reported on.
Mini-mameys
You have followed my deep interest in mameys in the e-mails of 27 Aug and 4 Dec 2015. You will have read of my dismay at mamey season traditionally coming to a close at the end of October. Therefore, you will understand why I was thunderstruck when on 9 Dec 2015 Pepe revealed to me that he had found mini-mameys for sale at Waltham India Market, which claimed that they were available year-round. This unexpected news opened up a grand new vista of mamey eating. Later that day Pepe presented two mini-mameys to me. I proudly carried them aloft as I walked to my car.
My mini-mameys were firm, and I had to remain patient and wait for five days until one of them was very soft and the other moderately soft. The smaller, softer one weighed 2.95 ounces, and the larger one weighed 3.85 ounces. Recall that a full-size mamey typically weighs a little over a pound.
I cut open the two mini-mameys and was shocked to see not the slightest hint of the characteristic mamey pinkness. My first thought was that there was something dreadfully wrong with these mameys. They were white inside, though the smaller one showed a darkening due to overripeness. (What color is the inside of a full-size mamey? It isn't quite red, and it isn't quite pink. To settle this question, I went to my standard color reference, the L.L. Bean catalog. I flipped through it but did not find the desired color. I guess mamey-colored clothes are not in fashion this year. Maybe we should call this color "mamey." This is analogous to the color mauve, which is the French word for mole, and the color received this name since it is the color of moles, at least in France. [Maria says that the color I am looking for is salmon. Do you agree with this?])
Here are my pictures.
- Uncut mini-mameys.
- For comparison, an uncut full-size mamey.
- Mini-mameys cut in two. The smaller, overripe one is in front. You can just barely make out a hint of seed in the two halves on the right side of the picture.
- For comparison, a full-size mamey cut open to show the interior color.
- Mini-mameys peeled with the seeds extracted. These mini-mameys were hard to peel; in fact, it took longer to peel a mini-mamey than to peel a full-size mamey.
- Mini-mamey seeds, which are much smaller than I expected, compared to a dime.
- Mini-mamey seeds compared to an average seed from a full-size mamey.
I blended the peeled mini-mameys with milk, ice cubes, and cinnamon, and the result filled a sixteen-ounce glass. It had a good milkshake texture, though it was gray rather than the traditional mamey color. The first milkshake picture below is of the mini-mamey, and the second of the full-size mamey.
Now for the taste test. I took several deep swallows. Huge disappointment. The taste of mamey was just barely discernible; I had to concentrate with all my might to detect the faintest vestige of taste. This drink was so unrewarding that I nearly dumped the last half, but I persevered and finished. It had a pronounced grittiness, which was not unpleasant and at least gave some distinction to this drink. It is damning with faint praise when the strongest feature of a drink is its grittiness. (Pepe, the mamey connoisseur, also made a milkshake from two mini-mameys, and his gustatory experience was the same as mine. He reported that half of one of his mini-mameys was overripe while the other half was still white; it is very hard to catch these mini-mameys at the peak of ripeness.)
The verdict is that, despite the soaring hopes with which I greeted the mini-mameys, they turned out to be a total and unredeemed fizzle.
Adding two seeds of a different size to my collection of mamey seeds allowed me to create another Fruit Explorer art work (pictured below). Its title is "Mamey Monster" and the medium is mamey seeds and kitchen table.
Here are a couple of other mamey notes. Pepe has announced a plan to plant a full-size mamey seed in an indoor pot and grow a bonsai mamey tree. Stay tuned for reports on this research effort.
On 15 Dec 2015 while searching desperately through Whole Foods for an as yet unexperienced fruit, I was frozen in my tracks to see a pile of full-sized mameys. I scooped up an armload and headed for the cash register. Unfortunately, there was no sign giving the price, so I was forced to pay the standard price of $4.99 per pound. Why are these mameys available six weeks after the end of the traditional season? There are two competing theories. The first is that I bought a batch of genetically modified mameys. The second is that the tropical fruit table at my Whole Foods is the terminus of a wormhole that enables mamey time travel.
Mini-guavas
At the Waltham India Market on 14 Mar 2015 I picked up a one pound container of ten mini-guavas. There was no PLU sticker, but the label on the container and the cash register receipt called them Mexican guavas; I suspect that this is an informal name rather than an industry standard. Each one weighed on average 0.1 pounds, and they cost $3.99/pound. For comparison, my apple guava (2 Nov 2014) weighed 0.78 pounds.
The most striking feature of these mini-guavas is that they are small. Speaking roughly, they are about 1.75 inches in diameter. Using the technique that I developed while previously eating guavas (2 Nov 2014), I cut one in half and scooped out and discarded the center, which contained the seeds. Each end had a tiny growth, so I cut off a bit at each end. I was surprised to see how little fruit there was left. One guava, which was a little bigger than average, weighed 0.114 pounds before preparation; after removing the center and the ends, there was 0.064 pounds (0,38 oz.) of edible fruit. This means that the edible meat of the fruit cost $6.23/pound. Each half is a bite, and not a very big bite at that. I popped a half into my mouth and found that the meat was soft rather than crunchy. At first I could detect no taste at all, but after a little chewing a tangy taste arose that I didn't much care for.
Here are my pictures.
- The box of mini-guavas.
- An uncut mini-guava.
- An uncut, full-size, apple guava for comparison.
- A mini-guava cut in two. Note that most of the interior is given over to seeds.
- My mini-guava shells ready to eat with the inedible, seed-ridden portion removed.
Maria, the guava whisperer, also tried this fruit. She bit into it as if it were an apple and, to my astonishment, ate it whole, seeds and all. She described the taste as "insipid."
The verdict: Considerable preparation time is needed (if you eat it my way), the edible fruit is very expensive per unit weight at $6.23/pound, and the taste is not appealing. Three thumbs down.
Conclusion
My experiments with these two mini-fruits were not successful. Here we have two counterexamples to the proverb that good things come in small packages.
Rick
