Peppadew Pictured with Olives

Doesn’t it feel great to stumble across an undiscovered corner of a place you thought you knew inside out?  (Like when you find a hidden closet in the basement storage room or attic.)  It’s such a “wow — neat!” moment.

I had one of those unexpected moments when I recently thought to troll through the olive bar at my favorite produce market.  Actually, it was the cheesemonger’s idea — “You might find some nice olives to go with that Cabrales!”

Not needing a second prompting, I boldly ventured into why-didn’t-I-notice-this-before? territory.  As I browsed through the olives bar, to my delight, I came across bulbous little peppers called peppadews nestled amidst the Gordal Queen olives and 99-cent jumbo pickles.  Well, that’s interesting, I thought.  They were the cutest peppers I’d ever seen.

Upon being faced with an unknown (to me) edible, my first instinct is to eat it, culinary caution be damned!  Most of the time, this is a sound strategy, because the vast majority of foods are at least interesting if not great.  Granted, on rare occasions, my curiosity quickly morphs into a satisfaction that I have learned two things: how the food in question tastes and that I won’t be eating it again.  (Such as the natto sushi I tried last night.  It’s just something about those fermented beans that have enough mucilage to string out across the length of my living room … ugh.  But I’m sure there are some nifty industrial applications for string-able foods.)

Happily, the peppadew peppers were a pleasant discovery.  They’re sweet yet hot, and fortunately for my impromptu cheese plate, they’re a wonderful accompaniment to cheese and olives.  It turns out their signature taste is due to both the fruit itself — a type of chili pepper that grows in the Limpopo province of South Africa — and to the way it’s brined and bottled.  Depending on whether or not the process includes de-seeding the peppers, some peppadews are spicier than others; depending on when they’re picked, some are red and some are golden.  They’re the latest and greatest fruit-known-as-a-vegetable to hit plates in the U.S. and abroad, and their production is a tightly-controlled, boutique industry.  (“Peppa” + “dew” is actually a trademarked name that combines the idea of spicy peppers with sweet dew.)

If you’re fortunate enough to find a peppadew or two, use them as you would roasted peppers, and especially use them when you’d like a sweet-hot kick: with cheese, in omelettes, woven into kebab skewers, in sandwiches/wraps, tossed with salads, incorporated into pilafs and pasta dishes, etc.  Their vibrant red hue and slight crunchiness make them a welcome addition to nearly any plate!

Ugli Fruit

Okay, I’ll admit it — I’ve been shallow.  For years, I’ve avoided the ugli fruit because it was called an ugli fruit.  (And because it didn’t look weird enough.  I get so curious about strange foods I’ve never seen before that I would happily try something called “ugly” as long as it looked weird enough.)

I love citrus, though, and I realized that I’d tried all the other oddball citruses:  pomelos, tangerines, kumquats, yuzus, tangelos, blood oranges, even limequats.  (Yes, they look like kumquats and taste like limes.)  It was just time for things to get ugli.

So they did.  I found out that ugli fruits are oddly baggy — it seems like the skin is a bit too big for the inner sections — and that they taste like a tangy-yet-sweet grapefruit.  The fact that the juicy sections are too small for their britches makes them a bit tricky to squeeze on my citrus juicer but also makes them rather handy to pull out and eat.  All in all, I would say that ugli fruit can be treated like a tart orange or a sweet grapefruit, depending on how you’d like to use it (as drinking juice, tossed with salads, squeezed onto seafood, etc.).  One thing is certain:  ugli fruits sure do taste pretty!

Snake Fruit

Tapas, flamenco, red wine, olive oil, ham, Manchego cheese…and snake fruit.  Those are my overriding impressions from a recent trip to Spain.  I hadn’t expected to find rambutans and snake fruit in the mercado central, but I was overjoyed when I spotted the bins of frutas exóticas — ever since I’d gotten my first glimpse of snake fruit (also called salak) in a fruit encyclopedia, I’d been wanting to get my hands on one to see how it would taste and feel.

This scaly, teardrop-shaped fruit is native to Indonesia, where several different cultivars of salak are commercially grown.  Sometimes they’re incorporated into fruit salads or paired with ice cream for a dessert, but they’re often also consumed simply as they are.  That’s how I prefer them — they have such a delicate and haunting flavor that I can’t imagine overshadowing them with anything else.  It’s hard to pin down how a salak tastes, though, because it’s such a distinct and aromatic fruit.  The best comparison I can make is to a passionfruit.  A passionfruit that has somehow managed to blend itself with a pineapple and a kiwi, that is.  Quite a refreshing 3-in-1.

If you do have the fortune to stumble upon a snake fruit, choose one that’s fairly firm but that still gives a bit to the touch.  (If it doesn’t flex at all, it’s probably old and dried out.)  Just cut off the pointed end, place the tip of the knife under the skin, and peel back a section of skin.  The rest will come off easily enough.  All of the interior white flesh is edible, although each one hides a large and inedible pit.  Just pull it out or nibble around it…and see if you can come up with a word to describe its flavor.  I’m sticking with a simple one:  “delicious.”

Rambutans & Lychees

An intriguing sweet flavor, sturdy packaging, and sheer weirdness–those attributes describe my idea of an appealing fruit.  Rambutans and lychees (and longans, a.k.a. “dragon eyes”)  get outstanding marks in all three categories.  If you can find fresh ones, snap them up–they’re worth the high price.  Besides, just having two or three is a fun gastronomic experience.  They’re commonly found in Asian cuisines and therefore in Asian markets, but they usually come canned and in heavy sugar syrup.  Fresh ones are much lighter and more flavorful–they nearly dance on the tongue.  And peeling them in an experience all in of itself.  (Serve them to guests and watch their eyebrows go up!)  Peeled lychees and rambutans can also be served atop ice cream, in fruit salads, or lightly dusted with ginger.  Due to their whimsical appearance, they also make eye-catching centerpieces and garnishes.

When selecting these members of the Sapindaceae family, choose fruits that are still pink/red (longans should be light brown) and ones that still respond to the touch–when you lightly press them between your fingers, you should feel the fruit inside quickly re-expand as soon as the pressure is gone.  Fruits that are stiff to the touch and dark brown in color are dried out and no longer fresh.  Peeling them can sometimes be a double task since they have the outer, thicker “shell” and an inner white membrane that covers the opaque/translucent white fruit.  Caution:  each one contains a dark, smooth, oblong pit in the center that can either be nibbled around or spat out.

The best way to enjoy lychees and rambutans is to picnic with them in the summer–then you can peel, examine, savor, and pit-spit to your heart’s content.  Have fun!

When I was an exchange student living in Germany, my favorite gelato flavor was maracuja.  It had a tangy, sweet-but-tart character that made it refreshing and intriguing at the same time.  Imagine my ecstatic happiness when I discovered maracuja juice at the local grocery store!  “I’ve got to figure out what this is so that I can find it when I get back home,” I thought, and started flipping through my German-English language dictionary.  “‘Maracuja’ (Grm):  ‘maracuja’ (Eng)” it said.  I was stumped…until I thought to look in a Spanish-English dictionary.  “Maracuja’ (Spn):  ‘passionfruit’ (Eng),” it said.  Ah-hah!

This small purple fruit grows in South America but is enjoyed all over the world (although I’ve yet to find it as a gelato flavor in the States).  Ripe passionfruit has an exotic perfume and a wrinkly skin; its seeds are crunchy, tangy, and have loads of visual appeal.  You can scoop out the seeds and eat them as they are or spoon them over baked meringues, frozen dairy/soy cream, or cake to create a stunning dessert.  Passionfruit juice makes any smoothie taste tropical and any cocktail a smash hit.  It’s also a great source of vitamin C, vitamin A, and potassium.

You might also want to save the scooped-out skins for decorative purposes–they dry beautifully and can be used as centerpiece elements anywhere in your home.

Peach, Pineapple & Mango Smoothie

When the weather gets chilly, the chilled make drinks with umbrellas in them so that we can pretend we’re lounging on a Caribbean beach…or at least imagine ourselves on a cruise ship heading towards the islands. The beauty of this drink is that you can make it as an exotic wake-me-up or add rum for an ultra-hip cocktail. Either way, you’ll be treating yourself to a glassful of vitamins and antioxidants.

(Just be sure to get juice that has no added sweeteners!)

For the smoothie: place about half-cup of frozen pineapple and a half-cup of frozen mangoes in the blender. Pour in enough peach juice to cover the fruit, then blend. Add more juice if the mixture is too thick. Garnish with a strawberry, a chunk of mango, and a piece of pineapple.

Enjoy!

Fuyu Persimmon

Persimmons come in two main varieties: Fuyu (pictured here) and Hachiya (which are shaped somewhat like Roma tomatoes). Knowing how they differ is critical, because while Fuyus can be eaten right away (or allowed to soften and take on a sweeter, smoother character), Hachiyas are very astringent and must be ripened almost to the point of breaking down. For this reason, I prefer Fuyus. Just be sure not to store them next to apples or bananas–Fuyus are sensitive to ethylene, a chemical that apples and bananas naturally give off when ripening.

What a curious word; it sounds downright Lewis-Carrollian. It would fit well into his “Jabberwocky” poem: “‘Beware the kumquats, my son!’” (Also an excellent word to know when playing Scrabble.)

Kumquats look like tiny, oval oranges. Like oranges, they are rich in potassium and vitamins A and C. Their popularity has spread from their native Asia to Europe and the U.S. Two varieties are commonly eaten: one with bitter skin and a sweet inside, and one with sweet skin and bitter innards. The latter is the one we generally find in State-side produce markets.

To enjoy a sweet-outside-bitter-inside kumquat, cut it in half and squeeze out the seeds and most of the juice. The sweet skin will be refreshing and will retain enough of the bitter interior to have a bright, contrasting flavor. I like kumquats best eaten out of hand, but as in the case of bitter oranges, they make a fine marmalade. You could also serve cut-and-squeezed kumquats alongside quartered fresh figs for an exotic and easy dessert.

Their small size also makes them a very portable and healthy snack food–just do the cut-and-squeeze ahead of time, slip them in a bag, and go!