(2) Sampling Japanese fruits--in my case, always ones presented to me by my landlord. [Apparently my landlord's family were originally farmers (artichokes being their premier crop) and at one time owned quite a bit of land in the area where I have been living. The land has since been divided among children and even sold off, although my landlord's brother still farms artichokes. Before he retired, my landlord was employed in the banking sector and even achieved the title of CEO.] Perhaps because of some combination of his farming bloodline along with a perception of me as someone devoted to good health (not fully sure how that developed), fruit became the most common bestowance proffered by my landlord. My favorite food offering forever remained strawberries (perfect as only the Japanese can cultivate), but, of course, strawberries don't count as "new." Neither do grapes (although the Japanese have some varieties I've never seen in the USA or Europe), Fuji apples, cantaloupe (which I always passed on to others who would actually eat what surely cost at least $10 minimum), cherries, and peaches. I first sampled a Japanese pear (Asian pear) either in Thailand or China, but I had the chance to indulge much more frequently during the last five years, courtesy of Muto-san, my landlord. And persimmons I first read about in some book as a child; in fact, I believe my mother even bought a few once to sample because we were both curious. However, I don't remember liking them on that occasion and there was never a second occasion, so my mom probably wasn't impressed either. But the ones Muto-san supplied me with during several autumns I loved. In truth, Japan is renowned for its persimmons, and the fruit is widely popular.
I have some photos of a few of the new--and stranger--fruits I have sampled since living in Japan. Honestly I did ask Muto-san their names, but the Japanese expression usually proved insurmountable for me to grasp. Consequently, I have resorted to the Internet for aid in labeling, and I may or may not be totally correct.
amanatsu: My landlord has a couple of trees growing on his property as do many of the neighbors. They look similar to a grapefruit, peel like an orange, and are quite tart.
By the way, my house is the white one in the background; the amanatsu tree is in the next door neighbor's yard.
ichijiku (fig): The Japanese eat these fresh as well as dried. I really liked them fresh. They are rich, though, and best eaten only one or two at a time. Despite the rather off-putting appearance of the inside--okay, texture is a bit weird, too--they are good!
loquat: I tasted these for the first time just this May. Muto-san brought them over to me with some bread from his favorite bakery. He didn't have a name for them but I found photos and descriptions on the Internet that make me feel pretty confident about this identification! They reminded me of apricots, although they are certainly larger in size, but their slightly fuzzy skin, the interior texture, even the flavor--all have a definite correlation to the apricot experience!
(3) Cherry blossom time. Japan's cherry blossom fame and traditions spin not from fluke, hype, or hyperbole, but from a dazzling reality. Every spring holds within it a period of days--actual length dependent on weather conditions--when cherry blossoms transfigure the landscape of our daily existence, and every spring that transfiguration took my breath away. Even the ending of the transfiguration has a magical beauty: cherry blossom rain. Petals spinning, floating, dancing in a breeze. A pale pink drift lying across the top of the blade of a windshield wiper. Curbs and sidewalks lined in a fluff of blossoms. Brief stretches of road pink-carpeted in the petals of one-time cherry blossoms.
No comments:
Post a Comment