Fruit Report: Bananas, Papayas, Avocados

Well, as you know, I consume prodigious quantities of Bananas. I’ve already waxed rhapsodic over the wondrous Williams Banana (a type of Cavendish) — trees of which we, unfortunately, do not have here at the farm; meaning that my supplies must come from the twice-weekly Hilo Farmers’ Market.

We do have, here at the farm; Apple Bananas, Plantains, Popo Ulus (AKA Hawaiian Plantains), and small numbers of Lady Fingers.

Took me a while to get into the Apples, which are a not as sweet as the Cavendish, but they’ve certainly grown on me. I taste a hint of cream cheese (but take this with a grain of salt: I also think that Tuscan Cantaloupes have a cream taste to them).

Plantains are, primarily, cooking bananas. Apparently they taste great raw, if you let them get very ripe — as in, the skin has entirely blackened. I’ve found neither the Plantains I’ve tried in Seattle, nor the ones I’ve tried here, to be tasty — even at this stage of ripeness.

I have however, found the Popo Ulus to be quite tasty indeed; and one needn’t even wait for the skin to blacken. Just let ’em get nice and soft, and you’re good to go.

Our Papayas are the smaller Hawaiian variety. They’ve got larger ones at the market, but I’m kinda afraid to try them as, as you may know, Papayas are one of the few (maybe the only) fruits which have been genetically modified. So, the small ones, grown right where I can see exactly what’s being done to them, it shall be.

And frickin’ fantastic they are. Seem to be getting better by the week, actually. And, yeah, they’re free for the picking.

I’ve had an interesting relationship with Avocados. As a child, I liked them not. ’round about my teen years, I developed a great love of the Guacamole, and then of Duffy’s’ Sandwich Shop’s massive turkey sandwich, which also featured avocados. I was officially an avocado lover.

But then, when I went all-raw, I suddenly lost the taste for them. Bummer. But the avocados here on the farm are so incredibly, amazingly, astoundingly delish, one would scarcely be able to believe one’s own taste buds. (Also incredible is the massive numbers of fruits that a tree can deliver.)

So, I’m officially an avocado-lover again. Except that I can only eat one per week, as the high fat content gives me problems (sore throat, lethargy) if I attempt (which, believe you me, I have attempted on a handful of occasions) to eat more than this. That’s a bummer, too. But it definitely makes one savour that one weekly treat all the more!

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A Day At The “Sugar Mills”

On our day off to-day, coupla my co-farmers and myself schlepped it (about a one hour walk from the farm) to the “Sugar Mills” beach — so-named because there are a bunch of dilapidated Sugar Cane processing facilities thereabouts (kind of like Gas Works Park, yo).

The surf was pounding like a mofo on this fine Sunday, and so the surfers were out in droves. Fricking intense to even watch people surfing in this calibre of water, especially so in this location, as one mistake (or so it seemed to mine admittedly untrained eyes) would land the surfer smack into the nearby rocky cliff-face.

Unlike the sandy shore at the “Gas Chambers”, this beach boasts a quite rocky shoreline. Beautiful to look at, but there would be no body-surfing attempts from yours truly. My reluctance was not shared, be it noted, by the many 10-15-year-old kids who were dare-deviling it up on their body-boards.

Interestingly, dare-devilrous though they were, the kids never failed to genuflect before making their runs at the water.

Another fun feature of the beach is the fresh-water swimming-hole, courtesy of a river emptying here into the sea. So: salt-water or fresh, take your pick!

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Fruit Report: White Pineapple

Imagine, if you dare, a pineapple that’s the most delicious, most succulent, most perfect pineapple in God’s green Earth. Now, imagine that this same pineapple doesn’t cut your mouth all up into fucking shreds.

You could only imagine such a treat, right: it could never exist in so-called real-live space-time? You’d think so…but you’d be wrong, beeyatch! For such a treat does exist; in Hawaii.

It was the first food that I et after arriving at the farm; and, heavenly as it was, I can report, having et many dozens more over the next weeks (I arrived at the peak of the season), it’s as real live as the day is long.

You shan’t find them on the mainland, however. (Nor, sadly, in the islands in the Winter. As I write this, it’s been a few weeks since I last partook — and many more weeks still since I last experienced the true magnificence of height-of-season white pineapple. But there’ll be next year…)

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Separate Ways

Our last day on Oahu. After getting ready to leave, I gobbled down the last of the stash of super-delicious island-grown watermelons. Soon enough, we made the final drive from the North Shore to Honolulu.

Our separate flights — the rest of the family to Seattle, myself to Hilo — departed within a few minutes of each other, so I hung out with them in their departure terminal until they began boarding. After some tearful good-byes, I busted a move down to the inter-island terminal, and boarded the aeroplane for my third-ever flight. This one seemed much quicker than its one-hour duration.

After touching down was the Very Long Walk to my hostel. No bus service from the airport (?), and I’d have been damned if I were going to pay $20 (or some shit) for a cab ride into downtown. So, walk it was. Actually, it’s not that the walk was so long, really — about three miles, I think — but that I was carrying a heavy-assed backpack and a heavy-assed duffel bag, added to which it was a hot-assed day.  Suffice it to say, that I was all too happy to finally reach my destination.

After scarfing down not one, but two salads, and a nice visit to the nearby beach…

…and a quick call home to learn that the fam-damily had indeed arrived safely in the Sea- to the -Tac, I was out like a light.

Next morning, while waiting for the bus into town, I spied the coolest leaf ever. But ever! See if you agree:

It happened to be Farmers’ Market Day in downtown Hilo town, and so I eagerly ate down the first bunch of what would prove to be several hundreds of my new favourite banana — the Big-Island-grown Williams. Fucking delish, mang!

Soon enough I was picked up by the proprietor of my first farm-stay, we arrived at the farm, and within fifteen minutes I was weeding Coconut beds…

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Winding Down

To begin our last full day on Oahu, my mom and I got up for an early hike in the Palis across the street from our rental while the rest of the family slept their lazy asses in bed. In fact, we got up a bit too early: the gate to the trailhead was still closed when we arrived, so we had to chill out for a little while before beginning the hike.

’twas a fun little couple of miles, nice and steep-like. We narrowly avoided getting soaking-assed wet when a heavy downpour appeared half-way into the hike. We know we were half-way, ’cause we were able to take cover in picnic area strategically placed at the turn-around point (apparently, the skies only open up when hikers are nearing this point…).

We were awarded for our troubles with some utterly stunning views  — are there any other classes of view in the islands?

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