Photo of the Day: Meets or Exceeds U.S. Fancy Standards
Photograph take by Gunnar Hafdal on Flickr
I feel proud knowing that the premium fruit we export to Iceland "meets or exceeds U.S. fancy standards."
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Entries from Required Eating tagged with 'fruit'
Snapshots from Asia: The Mysterious Wampee Fruit
I don’t know about you guys, but the most exciting part about traveling for me is discovering new things that smack you in the face with a great, big, “Hello, I exist! And I am delicious!”
Last week, I poked through Hong Kong’s street markets, asking vendors nosy questions and snapping surreptitious shots of seafood still splashing in tubs. There was eating too—lots and lots of eating. Many sights were a blast from the past, a memory of how things ought to be, or still are, on this island of startling contrasts. Rice flour rolls freshly steamed and rolled before your eyes; towering skyscrapers amidst bustling, squawking, croaking, cawing, livestock markets. But the one thing that stopped me dead in my tracks—these yellow-skinned lovelies called wampees.
Starbucks' Vivanno Vs. Jamba Juice Smoothies
Starbucks had new signage today welcoming the Vivanno. As explained yesterday, it's a nutritious answer to the indulgent Frappuccino, with only 250 calories for the 16-ounce Orange Mango Banana flavor, and 270 calories for the Banana Chocolate. Are they worth it? Fewer calories than a Jamba Juice smoothie or a Frappuccino, but they're gross.
Banana Chocolate
After tasting one spoonful of the Banana Chocolate, Ed Levine compared it to milk of magnesia. Yum! Chewable tablets that relieve heartburn! Watery, with fake chocolate powder undertones, this isn't good. The closest Jamba Juice counterpart: Peanut Butter Moo'd, minus the peanut butter part. Vanilla frozen yogurt, chocolate "Moo'd base," soy milk, ice, and frozen bananas yielded no discernible flavor, but was more drinkable than Vivanno.
Starbucks Introduces the 'Vivanno' Drink: Looks, Tastes Like Smoothie, But Not One
Starbucks is unleashing another "healthy" answer to the extra caramel Frappuccino with extra whip. Launching Tuesday, the "Vivanno" will taste, look, and act like a smoothie but since it's "so much more than a smoothie" according to Starbucks, they won't let you call it one.
The Vivanno will come in two flavors: Orange Mango Banana Blend, made with Naked Juice, protein and fiber powders, milk, and ice, with 227 calories in a grande. In the Banana Chocolate Blend, mocha syrup replaces the juice, and there's 270 calories for the same 16 ounces. Each blend also contains a whole banana, which Starbucks really wants you to know and love. According to one barista blogger, staffers were reminded repeatedly that there's “at least one serving of fruit with a whole banana" throughout corporate training. They even watched a DVD underscoring the banana presence.
And bananas are good. Americans eat as many bananas as apples and oranges combined, according to banana sage Dan Koeppel. Less than 300 calories is also good, as Frappucinos can easily reach the 600- to 700-calorie range.
But is Starbucks a smoothie house? Not according to the barista blogger. "This isn’t Jamba Juice. This isn’t Smoothie King. This is Starbucks Coffee & Tea. Not Starbucks Coffee & Tea & Smoothies. Or I suppose Starbucks Coffee & Tea & Nourishing Blends."
What do you think? Would you grab a not-smoothie from Starbucks?
Read our review of the Starbucks Vivanno and a comparison to Jamba Juice Smoothies.
Snapshots from Asia: Tropical Fruit Feast, Red-Fleshed Dragon Fruit
I write with trepidation. I know if I casually toss out a claim that, “Red-fleshed dragon fruit are always sweet,” someone, somewhere, will run up and toss a bland, sickly, red-fleshed dragon fruit in my face. So I proceed cautiously: I’ve yet to stumble upon a stingy sourpuss of a red-fleshed dragon fruit. All the ones I’ve had have been glorious.
I say this because it occurred to me that with mangosteens suddenly becoming legally available in the U.S. and people there shelling out insane amounts for its antioxidant-rich juice, hard-to-get-your-hands-on tropical fruit may just be the next big thing. And while I’m in Asia—where tropical fruits don’t cost half the earth—I figure I’ll eat my way through the lot and share them here.
I’m starting the ball rolling with dragon fruit because I’ve noticed bloggers buying the impressive-looking, white-fleshed variety, paying a zillion dollars for them, and pronouncing them blah. That breaks my heart. It really does. There’s nothing more tragic than an unsatisfied, zillion-dollars-poorer, eater. So here’s a “secret”: I know the white-fleshed variety (Red Pitaya), studded with brilliant black seeds on the inside and festooned with lurid green “spikes” on the outside, looks fantastic. Yet, despite its dramatic good looks, it tends to under-deliver on flavor. More often than not, white-fleshed dragon fruit fall on the wrong side of insipid.
Photo of the Day: Going Bananas
Photograph courtesy of W. Paul Thomas
These bananas, shot by W. Paul Thomas, look like they're just at that stage I really like when I use them on PBJ-banana sandwiches and in my morning cereal. From the Serious Eats Flickr Group.
Delicious Mangosteens: Better Than a Hot Fudge Sundae?
Ever since 2003, when the late great R. W. " Johnny" Apple Jr. wrote about his unabashed love of the once forbidden (at least in the U.S.) mangosteen, I've been hankering to try one. This is what he wrote that got me so excited: "No other fruit, for me, is so thrillingly, intoxicatingly luscious, so evocative of the exotic east, with so precise a balance of acid and sugar, as a ripe mangosteen.... I'd rather eat one than a hot fudge sundae, which, for a big Ohio boy, is saying a lot."
When Johnny Apple says that he would rather eat a mangosteen than a hot fudge
sundae, that's a powerful statement.
Fruitmeister David Karp (the New Yorker once called him the fruit detective) reported last year that the mangosteens were at last coming to the U.S. This year I had read that they were available at Agata & Valentina and Dean & DeLuca in New York, and at Kings Super markets in New Jersey, but I have to admit that the Serious Eats mangosteens came in the mail from the exotic fruit sellers Frieda's Produce. Freida's ships irradiated (that's the only way they're allowed in this country) Thai mangosteens anywhere and everywhere there is a mangosteen lover.
In Videos: How To Peel a Kiwi
File this under, "Why didn't I think of that?" Turns out the best tool to peel a kiwi with is a spoon; just push it under the skin of the cut ends of a kiwi, rotate it until the skin comes loose, and out pops a naked kiwi!
Watch the tutorial video, after the jump.
Photo of the Day: Winter Tree in Tangerine Skin
I've never paid much attention to patterns left behind in a tangerine's empty skin, but after looking at designer Svilen Dimchevski's beautiful series of winter trees portrayed in tangerine skins, I'll have to do a double-take before throwing the peel away. [via notcot]
The End of Apples
Brian Halweil of Edible Communities and editor of Edible East End checks in with word on the last apples of the season.
It's like the fateful proclamation of a cynical high school guidance counselor: You are one type of person or you are another. At least when it comes to apples.
According to Amy Halsey of the Milk Pail Farm and Orchard on Highway 27 in Water Mill, New York, customers either want their apples crisp and don't care whether they are sweet or tart—or they are willing to forgo texture in favor of their favorite flavor.
I think I'm the crisp apple eater, since when I look back on all my happy apple memories, they have less to do with the particular flavor (although that's part of the fondness) than with the clean break of skin and flesh with the first bite. In this sense, it's no wonder that Fujis—one of the best keepers the Halseys grow—happen to be my household's regular apple from November to March, and I pick up a five-pound bag every week or so.
Photo of the Day: Orange Dropped in Milk
I was struck by Mika Anderson's high-speed photograph of an orange being dropped in a bowl of milk because 1) it looks cool and 2) it made me wonder why anyone would drop an orange into a bowl of milk. The first point kind of answers the second though: you drop an orange into a bowl of milk because it looks cool. I also love his photo of the orange as it hits the still surface of the milk and the symmetrical splash of the post-orange bombing.
For a collection of high-speed "fruits in liquid" photographs, check out this collection at Sooth Brush. [via Cold Mud]
How To Open a Durian
If the infamously stinky odor of the durian weren't already enough to keep people from eating it, there's also the task of splitting open the spiny shell to reach the creamy pods within. Durian newbies, be not afraid; Kathryn Hill at The Kitchn has documented the process of opening a durian. All you need is a big knife and adequate arm strength.
If you want to try durian without opening it yourself, a fruit vendor may do it for you. In Manhattan's Chinatown my friends and I bought a durian from a vendor on Mott Street and Grand Street who scooped out the flesh and neatly packed the "pods" in a container, probably in much less time than if one of us went at the durian with a knife. Still, it's good to know how to open one yourself!
Photo of the Day: Customized Fruit
Bored with your fruit? Customize them like graphic designer Sarah King did with an apple, pear and banana. Just don't eat the peel.
Vú Sữa: Vietnam's Milky Fruit
After six months of living in Saigon, I haven’t even come close to sampling all of the fruits and vegetables available. I love how every "season" brings a plethora of new delights to try. Sugar apples have been my favorite fruit for quite some time, but they may soon be replaced by vú sữa.
In English, vú sữa kinkily translates to "milky boob." Hubba hubba. The fruit earned its name based on its appearance and the process by which it is consumed. After the fruit has properly chilled in the fridge, one needs to massage it thoroughly before eating. When the milky juice and flesh are ready, the vú sữa feels pliable to the touch.
Grocery Ninja: Sour Plum 'Space Dust' Powder
The Grocery Ninja leaves no aisle unexplored, no jar unopened, no produce untasted. Creep along with her below, and read her past market missions here.
I remember my friends all thought me very odd when I brought jam and cheese sandwiches to school—despite the fact that numerous Asian pastries and desserts play on the sparky contrast between salt and sweet. Now with the rise in popularity of salt-spiked desserts (caramels, chocolate ganache, oatmeal cookies, anything with dulce de leche), it feels like I've been retroactively vindicated (though I was probably still kooky in a lot of other ways).
But this appreciation for flavor contrasts got me thinking about other unlikely culinary marriages—like watermelon and salt. I've been told "it's a Southern thing" to sprinkle just a pinch on the juicy, red fruit. The slight briny contrast makes the watermelon taste all the sweeter, and to my mind, might be just the perfect way to rehydrate and replenish lost electrolytes on a hot and muggy day—a coloring-free, all-natural, and much more cost-effective form of sports drink, maybe?
Beyond, the "Southern thing," watermelon with feta cheese and mint is a staple in the Mediterranean, and some of my Indian colleagues profess a love for pairing it with pickled onions. In Spain, there's melon and jamón—a close cousin to the melon and proscuitto of Italy. Not forgetting the salt, freshly squeezed lime, and chili powder treatment it gets in Mexico.
Grocery Ninja: Pawing My Pawpaws
The Grocery Ninja leaves no aisle unexplored, no jar unopened, no produce untasted. Creep along with her below, and read her past market missions here.
It's no secret that I love my housemates (both sets in Providence, Rhode Island, and Ithaca, New York—and yes, I know how lucky I am). I usually talk about my Russian housemate here in Providence because he's the one who spends the most time with me in the kitchen, procrastinating on "real work."
But this week, having carted a paper bag of pawpaws back to Provy from the Cornell Orchards store in Ithaca, I have to say I may love my Agentinian housemate most. I crept into the house all apprehensive, holding my precious pawpaws behind me, wondering if I should bide my time before springing them on her. For those familiar with pawpaws though, you'll know there's no hiding one.
"Is it alright? Do you mind?" I ask. "Because I can stash them beneath my bed and keep my room's door closed. I know they smell quite strongly."
Cook the Book: 'How to Pick a Peach'
This week's Cook the Book feature highlights How to Pick a Peach
As with all weekly Cook the Book features, we've got a number of copies to give away. Ten (10) winners will be chosen at random from among the commenters below. All you have to do is answer the following:
What's your favorite fruit or vegetable for 1.) cooking and 2.) eating raw?
Mangosteens in Philadelphia
Looks like Di Bruno Bros. in Philadelphia has gotten its hands on a shipment of mangosteens.
In the coming weeks, Di Bruno Bros. (1730 Chestnut Street; 215-665-9220) will carry a very, very limited supply of the fruit, at an intriguing/slightly frightening price of $45 per pound (the average mangosteen weighs about a third of a pound).
That's about $15 a 'steen, for those of you slow on the math tip. [via Don Luis]
Earlier: Mangosteens in the U.S., The Mangosteens Are Coming
Mangosteens in the U.S.
I'm somewhat glad that I don't know what mangosteens taste like; otherwise I might shell out $11 just for one piece of the fruit primarily grown in Thailand. Gersh Kuntzman only indulged in two pieces at a gourmet greengrocer in Brooklyn, lest he wanted to refinance his house. Although Kuntzman happily tore into his $45-a-pound fruit, his wife was less impressed:
"Face it, at $45 a pound, this mangosteen should come in a limousine with a chauffer who also cleans our kitchen. Besides, the joy of eating a mangosteen is eating it in Thailand. Imagine sending a Bagel Hole bagel to your brother in North Carolina. It’s not even worth the bother."
I think I'll skip out on trying a mangosteen stateside for now—it gives me all the more reason for me to visit Thailand.
Of course, if you do want to try them Stateside, shipments of Puerto Rico–grown mangosteens started arriving on these shores earlier this month. (Those grown in Thailand are banned from the U.S. because of concerns over insect infestation.)
The season is short, and only two outlets have distribution deals—Melissa's World Variety Produce in Los Angeles and Baldor in New York City.
Photo of the Day: Talking Heads
Photograph by Jonathan Jacobs
Is nature trying to tell me something through this atypical crevice formation? That maybe I shouldn't sink my teeth into the flesh of something that is happily squinting and grinning? Or is the watermelon somehow elated to receive its fate of swimming in my stomach's digestive juices? I'll go with the latter.
Spherical Is Out: Human-Shaped is In
I knew Japan was the birthplace of square watermelons, but the concept of watermelons vaguely shaped like human heads with bulging eyeballs is new to me. PingMag takes us into the world of strangely shaped watermelon breeding, where pyramidal watermelons will set you back $650 and the human head-shaped ones may cost you your soul. The heart-shaped cucumbers are much more accessible at around $2 for one cuke and probably taste more like their normal-shaped counterpart than the molded watermelons.
Photo of the Day: Sandía
While walking around Cartagena de Indias in Colombia, Lo M came across this beautifully haphazard fleet of watermelon slices. If only I could find the same thing here.
Do Cherries Make You Happy? What Do You Do with the Pits?
Yesterday, a box of Batch's Best Family Farms Bing cherries arrived at Serious Eats world headquarters via Chefshop. Because these cherries are picked and air-shipped the same day, they cost a lot more than the cherries we get at our local supermarkets. But much like the Gold Bud peaches I have written about, these cherries are worth every penny.
They are firm, juicy, and sweet, with just enough acidity to let you know you are eating a perfect cherry. These cherries make me very happy, and I think they will make you very happy, too.
Snapshots from Asia: The Inevitable Durian Post
Photographs by Shimin Wong
It’s been called “God’s gift to vegans” by devotees who love its naturally rich, creamy texture and pronounced bittersweet flavor. It’s also been accused of reeking of stale gym socks, sewage, and onions (all at once) and is persona non grata on public transport. Locals have a healthy respect for it—those spikes are sharp and will draw blood! And no one really dares test the myth that chasing it with alcohol will cause one’s bowels to explode.
Since the durian, this “king of fruits” has been much written about, along with its “queen," the mangosteen, I won't dwell on how, like grapes, they come in different varietals, with "aficionados" assessing them the way wine connoisseurs do wine. Neither will I elaborate on fans who regularly fork out obscene amounts of money to savor its pungent flesh. Nor reveal that similar to “hair of the dog” remedies, a time-honored way of ridding one’s fingers of residual scent and body of excess “heat” (a traditional Chinese medicinal concept), is to fill the empty durian shell with water and salt and stir with said fingers before downing the brine.
I will instead point out the red bucket suspended in the air—a common sight in many of Asia’s family-run businesses. Used in place of an electronic cash register, it’s rigged to a simple bell-and-pulley system. Each time money changes hands, the hawker simply reaches for the bucket and does his thing. This works well in small, open-air enterprises, where everyone is alerted to the bucket’s whereabouts by its jingling bell. No one person has monopoly over the register, and there’s no need to abandon one’s post so as to traipse to the back of a shop for change.
Oh, did I mention that the thorny fruit weighs so heavily on the local psyche that women openly and admiringly discuss the number of “durian seeds” (abdominal muscles) their men sport?
About the author: Wan Yan Ling, Serious Eats's overseas summer intern, is an impoverished grad student and sourdough finger-crosser living in Singapore. She can usually be found in the kitchen procrastinating on "real work," or online tracking down obscure recipes. Ling thinks eating alone is no fun, and she still believes in hand-mixing.
Where Do the Best Peaches Come From?
Photograph from iStockPhoto.com
What's the best peach you've ever eaten? Where was it grown? In mid-July, a Serious Eater's mind and stomach turn to peaches, as Jeffrey Steingarten's did a few years ago in Vogue. At least mine (and his) do.
I have been on a lifelong search for the perfect peach, one that's so juicy you end up wearing it, one that has a perfect balance between sweetness and acidity. You might think that those of us who celebrate local food would pronounce the peach grown in our backyard the best, but I live in New York City, where there are precious few backyards. But I cannot say in good conscience and all honesty that the peaches grown in neighboring backyards and farms all over New Jersey, Connecticut, and Pennsylvania are the best, either. I certainly eat more than my fair share of local farmers' market peaches from Nemeth Orchards and Stone Arch Farms, but their peaches are not life-changing affairs.
I have friends from Georgia who claim that the best peaches are grown there (yes, I know that baseball Hall of Famer Ty Cobb was nicknamed the Georgia Peach), but I have tasted many Georgia peaches, and though they can be pretty damn fine, they are not the best. Others say that the best peaches come from South Carolina or Texas or Colorado. They would be wrong as well.
Photo of the Day: Fruit Paradise
I feel healthier just by staring at Steve's Ho's photo of neatly lined up berries. If only I could live on plump, juicy berries for the rest of my life without the burning desire for roast pork inevitably kicking in.
For Father's Day: Stone Fruit
There are Georgia peaches (good), Texas peaches (good) Colorado peaches (very good), and even New York and New Jersey peaches (stellar every so often). But the best peaches, nectarines, plums, and cherries are from California and Washington. I know this may be disappointing to all of you Texas and Georgia natives, but it is the truth. I can prove it to you if you order peaches for your dad from Gold Bud Farms in Placerville, California. They won't be ready until July, but your dad will find it's worth the wait. These are the peaches of your dreams; drippingly juicy with the perfect balance of sweetness and acidity.
If it's juicy, sweet, bursting-with-flavor cherries you're after, the folks at Chef Shop ship Batchs Best Orchards' Bing and Lapin cherries starting in July. These cherries, just like the Gold Bud peaches, are expensive but worth every penny and the wait.
Party Trick: Fizzy Fruit
At your next party, why not surprise your guests with some carbonated fruit? It sounds easy to prepare assuming you have access to a dry ice supplier.
Guava Jam & Jelly, a la Marketman
Marketman of the always excellent Market Manila recently made guava jam and guava jelly from scratch, and maybe you should too, if you can find fresh guavas near you. Both the jam and jelly go well with cheese, with something as simple as cheddar on a cracker, or as upscale as camembert on croute.
If you've never had a guava, they taste somewhere between a pear and a strawberry, which is to say pretty good! Filipino, Mexican and South American groceries might have guavas in fruit form, jams and jellies. If you're really lucky they'll have them baked into pastries; alternately, get Gristedes to sell you a box of Entenmann's Guava Pastries Puffs for $4.69.
Watermelon, Oklahoma's New State Vegetable
Oklahoma legislators recently declared watermelon their new official state vegetable—state fruit was already spoken for by the strawberry. State Senator Don Barrington, one of the bill's sponsors, says "Oklahoma Department of Agriculture officials had advised anyone to answer "yes" to the question of whether watermelon is a vegetable or a fruit." [via GirlHacker]
Destinking Durian
A rose by any other name will still smell as sweet, so goes the cliche, but is a durian still a durian if it doesn't stink? Thomas Fuller of the New York Times: "To anyone who doesn’t like durian it smells like a bunch of dead cats,” said Bob Halliday, a food writer based in Bangkok. “But as you get to appreciate durian, the smell is not offensive at all. It’s attractive. It makes you drool like a mastiff.” Nevertheless, a Thai government scientist, who after three decades of research is one of the world’s leading durian experts, now says he has managed to excise its stink."
Fruit: A Risk vs Reward Analysis
My favorite blog post I've read so far this week is by far the a risk vs. reward analysis of fruit by Justin of Guardedly Optimistic. Here's what he has to say about the humble banana:
fruit: banana
risk: low
reward: moderate
analysis: Never a bad choice, the banana is the .290 hitter of fruit. When was the last time you had a surprisingly bad banana? Never, that’s when. More importantly, the banana offers the most easily interpreted warning signs in the fruit family: if it’s slightly green or covered in brown spots, you know you’re rolling the dice. You will most likely never eat a memorable banana, but for a low-risk fruit that pays out solid dividends, you can’t do better. If you don’t like surprises, the banana might be the fruit for you.
I think his analysis is spot on, except for that he forgets that you win no matter what state your banana is in; green ones you can curry, brown ones are even better because you can turn them into banana bread. Is any other fruit as versatile in its varying stages of ripeness? (Having said that, my favorite fruit by far is a Philippine mango. Clementines come in a distant second.)
[via MattBites]
Vineyard: Amazing Ca. Peaches, Great local soda
Four days of eating on Martha's Vineyard and what did I discover:
The best local soda I've ever tasted: Cape Cod Diet Cranberry Ginger Ale: Simultaneously sweet and tart, plenty of cranberry flavor, could go a little heavier on the ginger. I know about Cheerwine and the like, but are there other great local sodas most people don't know about?
A very fine Little Rock Farms blueberry pie made with wild Maine blueberries.
An excellent Mrs. Blake's Strawberry Rhubarb Pie with her usual moist and flaky crust and filling that could have been less sweet.
Fried clams from John's Fish Market in Vineyard Haven that were crunchy, clammy, and yummy. Wispy, thin onion rings that were battered to order (as were the clams. Next time up here I'm going to taste test John's and the Bite's fried clams. May the better clam win!
Pretty good bacon and fresh mozzarella pizza from the Chilmark Store. Too much regular mozzarella made for a very heavy pie. Bacon was in tiny pieces, like bacon bits.
Awful peach crumb pie from the Black Dog Bakery: It's hard to screw up peach crumb pie, but the folks at BDB managed to do it. The pie was a soupy, gloppy mess, and the peaches tasted canned.
By far the best bites of food to be had on this island are the Gold Bud Farms peaches and nectarines sold at Eden outside Vineyard Haven. These are simply as good a piece of stonefruit as you will find on this planet.
This photo of some sliced Gold Bud peaches is courtesy of a Chowhounder. Each piece is juicy and sweet with just the right amount of acidity. How good are they? We bring them as either house presents or dessert when we're invited over to dinner, and we have now become the most popular dinner guests on the island. Ron Mansfield, Goldbud's owner, will ship. Call him at 530-626-6521.
Hot Links
Pableaux Johnson wrote rapturously about cherries and other fruit in the Hood River Valley in Oregon, and though I've never been there, his story had me thinking about a roadtrip.
The folks at Chefshop have been sending me many reminders about the fantastic cherries they will start shipping from Batch Family Farm in eastern Washington. I know you can get cherries at your local market starting right about now, but the Batch cherries are something special. I've had the Lapins, which are juicy and huge, with a deep cherry flavor. This year Chefshop is also selling BFF Sweetheart cherries, which are a new strain of sweet cherries first grown in British Columbia. These are picked right after the Lapins, in mid to late July.
These cherries are expensive (about 17 bucks a pound with shipping), but worth every penny.
Meg Hourihan wrote a lovely, lyrical post about successfully creating a dish without using a cookbook that any self-taught cook (like me) can relate to.
