Eau de Guava
We're out of guavas.
Already, I miss the crisp, clean fragrance of ripe guavas everytime I walk into the kitchen. It is an invigorating scent, a perfume that cuts through that heady smog of tropical fruit smells like a cool breeze.
And they're gone.
Ah, well. Guavas, like coffee, never entirely live up to their aromas somehow.
Growing up in Singapore, I was surrounded by guava trees, and seldom noticed them. Then, for long years in Oz, I only seemed to encounter the guava as a co-flavour in fruit drinks. A few days ago, my neighbour passed on some guavas that she'd been given too many of, and suddenly - WHAMMO! - our kitchen was sweet with the smell of ripe guavas.
And with it comes the memory of the spindly guava tree that grew by the door to my Year 1 classroom, whose fruit were few but always plucked by greedy little hands before they were ever nearly ripe enough. But even then, there was a smell - green and sharp.
There's nothing else quite like it.
Damn. We're out of guavas.
4 comments:
We have two pineapple guava trees here.Also called feijoas. My favourite thing is to eat the flower petals before the fruit form. So sweet!
Our friends and neighbours don't appreciate guavas like you do, so we are usually left with a rotting bowl full in the kitchen each year.
Community Announcement: Any unwanted guavas will find a loving (if brief) home with us :)
Hi Toxic Purity, Thanks so much for sharing your guava story. So far, my guava knowledge has extended to the percentage of juice found in those tropical fruit juices. And Sirexkat eats petals from her own garden! :-)
Hi Deanne,
real soon now, more reminiscences about rambutans, durians, mangosteens... and other tropical fruit and how they've changed my life :)
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