Most of us have our favorite fruits that become part of our regular fruit rotation. For me that includes melons, berries and pineapple during the summer — citrus fruits, pears and kiwis in the winter.
Then the other day at Apple Farm I noticed two bins sitting near the registers: “Guava” and “Cactus Pear.” The guava were small oblong things that resembled a cross between a lemon and a lime; the cactus pear, a colorful greenish-red.
I picked up a few guava that felt ripe, along with a cactus pear and a large and lumpy quince, for good measure.
They looked nice on the table, but I realized I didn’t have the foggiest idea what to do with them. Do you peel them? Do you cook them? Do you use them for fruit photography?
Let’s start with the guava. I read that the rind is thin and you can eat them rind and all. So that’s what I did.
Rather tart, and packed inside with a cluster of hard, tiny seeds. The seeds are edible, but there were so many of them that it just wasn’t fun to eat. Cutting the next guava in half and scooping out the seeds didn’t help much either, because that’s essentially the whole fruit.
I’m not sure what to make of the guava.
Moving on to the cactus pear, more commonly known as a prickly pear. My only association with this fruit is the scene in Leaving Las Vegas where an alcoholic Nicolas Cage exclaims, “I’m a prickly pear!” after crashing through a glass table.
To eat it, you cut off the ends, make a slit lengthwise, and peel away the skin.
Pleasant flavor — mild and floral. But again, seeds, seeds and more seeds! They’re everywhere. How are you supposed to eat this thing? Or is it better to blend it as part of a smoothie? I gnawed away but eventually gave up.
And finally, the quince, a relative of the pear and apple. According to WebMD:
“The seeds contain cyanide, which suggests that quince seeds might not be safe.”
Oh, excellent! Dying from trying new fruit. Cause that’s not embarrassing.
I read that quinces are tough to eat raw; it’s recommended to poach them until they soften up.
I heated up water, sugar, a cinnamon stick and vanilla extract, peeled and cut up the quince into quarters (while VERY thoroughly removing the seeds), and poached the pieces for 40 minutes. Still not quite soft, I flipped them over and poached them for another 20 minutes, leaving the kitchen to go back to my computer.
That was a mistake — the remaining poaching liquid began to burn, until I was left with this:
Yuck. What a mess, though the quince pieces were salvageable. They tasted good, but an hour’s work for a piece of fruit? I don’t know if that’s worth it.
In conclusion, this foray into new and exotic fruits was not a rousing success. Or maybe I just don’t know how to prepare them properly. For now, I’m going back to my oranges. At least I know they won’t kill me.