THE CHERIMOYA

I’m sure you’ve all heard of the cherimoya, one of the most popular fruits among American motorcycle stunt people, jewelers, and designers of new frisking techniques. Commonly called the “custard apple,” this lovely fruit originated in South America, where the Incas cultivated it on the slopes of the Andes. Now grown in select spots of Southern California, the cherimoya is a fickle fruit that needs hillside soil, ocean moisture, and plenty of time away from the sun.

Cherimoya, actually, means “cold seeds.” The Incas say that the cherimoya doesn’t like snow, but it does like to see the snow off in the distance. Isn’t that cool? Many cherimoya propaganda sites claim that Mark Twain called this custard apple “deliciousness itself.” I am having trouble coming up with synonyms, because both cherimoya and custard apple are very fun to say.

Pick cherimoyas that are hardish, light and without spots. I’ve heard it’s best to let them ripen a few days, but who wants to do that? If you’re fussy, they turn brown when ripe. If you’re really fussy, a drop of lime juice brings out the sweetness.

Really, cherimoyas are best chilled. Cut your cherimoya with a knife. Dig out what seeds you see. Be sure not to eat the seeds: they’re poisonous. Use a spoon to eat the fruit meat. The texture, yes, is like custard, but more melty. I tasted bubblegum on my first try, a less obnoxious bubblegum, with maybe some banana or melon. For “the world’s most exquisite fruit,” the cherimoya has a very fun and unpretentious taste. Like if I cut up pieces and took them out to the monkeybars, no one would throw gravel at me.

When I bought my first cherimoya, I froze a little bit and ate it later, and it really did taste like ice cream. Since I don’t eat ice cream anymore, I am happy to find a fruit that somewhat replaces it. Maybe if I mixed custard apple with caramel and brownie chunks, it would be like old times, before the empty mattress, the burned-up kitchen bulb, the cold razors and the scruff of dawn wind against my sad sad teeth—just kidding. I got a little carried away.

So yes, you should try them. If you see them, buy them quickly, before anyone else, especially before the passive-aggressive yuppies who may try to get there before you. Custard apples have a short growing season. They usually arrive around early May and stay for only a month. Yuppies, unfortunately, live forever. Little known fact.