I just finished the last wedge of pineapple from the fridge. I could eat pineapple alone here. No, I would need avocados too. I have two more pineapples waiting on the counter. I’m overzealous at the grocery store. My dad told me one time that my eyes were bigger than my stomach. I was just a kid, but some things don’t change.
I set the pineapples upside down. Victor, my host, set the first one upside down. They ripen quicker and more evenly. The outside turns uniformly golden and the flesh gets soft. It’s kind of a precarious position for the fruit, so we lean them up between the refrigerator and the lip of the counter.
In four weeks, I’ve become something of a pineapple conissuer . I buy the alligator-skinned bulbs at different stores, roadside tables, and the beds of pickup trucks. The meat is tender and every bite sends juices down my chin. I sometimes slice it into bite-size pieces and eat with a plate. Or I’ll pull an entire wedge from a ziploc in the crisper drawer of the fridge and eat it hunched over the sink.
Avocados too. The avos are about four times the size of the shriveled black Mexican ones that I’m used to.They’re deep green on the outside with smooth skin. The inside radiates from buttercup in the center to lime green just before the peel. You can taste the island in them. They are creamy with a tropical fruit finish. When they’re ripe, you can spread them on toast. The locals peel out a wedge and add it to their meal like a side dish. Just a pinch of salt and I’m good.