martedì, ottobre 24, 2006

Here comes that fruity feeling


Well, thank sweet strawberry jissom for small mercies. My job may make me want to burn things, my future may look like a foggy labyrinth and some of my friends are in the midst of physical or emotional breakdowns, but at least it's persimmon season again. Or at least the season to start importing persimmon.

Makes me want to move to a place with fresh tropical-type fruit all year around – I love fruit, but don't do well with the sort of fruit that can be grown in cool temperate climates like here or Northern Europe – apples, pears, peaches, and plums make me pukey if they're not cooked. Sort of. Some persimmons do and some persimmons don't, too. The long ones make me pukey, as do some of the short ones, but then the others I can eat until there aren't any more in reach. Plums are weird too. An ex had some on his organic farm in Switzerland; the dark ones I ate like a dirty pig, the yellow ones made me puke, and generally speaking they always make me puke so maybe it was just that one tree of his.

Things get better in Southern Italy. I can eat almost all the fruit there besides the figs and cherries – the citrus, the prickly pear, the pomegranate, the weird orange squishy things that were like persimmon except they exploded wetly when you touched them, making them the sort of food you need to eat with your face. And yes, it's as much like oral sex as it sounds – except the person eating is the one who feels all the pleasure. No fucking clue what they're called but they're on heaven's menu. Maybe they were persimmons too, but ripe, and therefore nothing like the ones we get here.  

And then once you get to actual tropical imports, it's all good. No problems there at all. So somehow, a Cawasprian bitch living in Canada has ended up with a tropical tummy. One of God's own jokes, and a rather naughty one to play on an exemplar of his creatures who best likes stuffing her face. I think I need to move somewhere balmy.

8 commenti:

Melbine ha detto...

I'm always fairly shocked whenever I find out that someone doesn't like a lot, or any, fruit. But I'm half fruit-fly so maybe that's something to consider.

When I was preggers all I wanted to eat was fruit. My stomach could handle so little, but put some strawberries or cherries or plums (sorry but I LOVE them) in front of me...mm...even bringing the strawberries back up tasted yummy. Sick I know - but true! If you're going to have to spend time hurling up your breakfast, it might as well be strawberries!

I feel very dumb but - what is a persimmon?

Mistress La Spliffe ha detto...

Different strokes, Mel. Fruit makes Lady die, without even making her sick, like some of it does me. And a month ago I wouldn't have touched Marmite with a bargepole. And now . . . yum yum yum.

Persimmon is a fruit that's like a cross between a tomato and an apricot.

Lady ha detto...

oh yes, fruit makes me die.
and i wouldn't even touch it, so i'll never know if it makes me puke. :shudder:

Mistress La Spliffe ha detto...

I saw you sort of lick at a peice of watermelon once, you shitter. You may have nearly died, but you didn't puke.

Melbine ha detto...

Oh I know the potential potency of fruit on some people. I haven't been able to enjoy my blessed berries while nursing. Tink doesn't digest them well at all!

Thanks for including the pic - persimmon looks and sounds awesome.

Mistress La Spliffe ha detto...

They are. You can probably find them in Chinatown these days.

Anonimo ha detto...

I had some in Japan. Once I ate one that wasn't ripe. It dried my mouth out like nothing I have ever experienced. No, it was similar to being at the dentist and airdried while he did his thing. But the ripe ones are yummy.

I have a strawberry flavoured sticky spot on my jammyknee right now from the jam you brought me this summer. Mmmm.

Mistress La Spliffe ha detto...

Hah hah! Sticky spot.

The ones that I ate when they obviously weren't ripe dried my face out too. So I guess the ripe ones are the yummy ones I eat now that are a cross between the firmness of an apricot and a peach, and the yummy jizzy stuff in Italy was some other kind of fruit.