Yesterday, on our way back from IKEA, the Nazgul and I passed a fruit stall by the local train station that was getting rid of the last of the day's wares for ridiculous prices.
We grabbed lots, paid four Euro, and hurried on to catch the train.
In there, we found that we had: six small Galia melons, six pears, two bags of peaches.
And then I ate a peach that was a bit scratched, the skin broken and the juice dripping out, and found it heaven.
Sweet, and juicy, and coming off the pit with perfect ease. And the Nazgul, in the evening, pinged me to tell me that the melon she'd had had come out of its rind just like that, and she was going to get some good mediterranean ham today to eat the others in style.
And then I realised that normally, we don't get ripe fruit in a shop: fruit must look good and be flawless, and is not allowed to drip, or smell ripe, or have brown spots where it's been squeezed. So, we get hard shiny things that we learn to think are normal, not slightly imperfect ripe splurgy goodness. And pay lots of money for it.
For my two leftover melons (I had one for breakfast just now) I am going to get prosciutto di Parma, or Serrano ham, as well, even if it costs more than the melons have cost! For the softened peaches, I am going to get a small bottle of simple dry domestic champagne, puree the fruit that are just too drippy, and mix it up. And then I will be in fruity heaven.
Screw hard, unripe, EU-normed perfection!!!
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