Sweet Jackfruit

I've just returned home from the grocery store. I usually hate grocery shopping, but today seemed OK. My kids were with me; they were very pleasant and only asked for about 4000 Calories of chocolate each. I was moderately indulgent.

I love the ethnic food aisle, as it's called. Soy sauce and taco shells don't seem very ethnic to me, but there they are--along with the aloe juice, basil seed drink, and Rice-A-Roni. Go figure. Earlier this year I saw a can of glop that was really disgusting but fascinating, as well: Grass Jelly Drink. There it was again today. For 49 cents, I thought it would be an excellent entertainment value. So I bought it, and to go along with it, I bought a jar of Tasty Joy brand Sweet Jackfruit.

I tried the jackfruit first thing. It felt sort of like a canned apricot, kind of soft and squishy. But it was a bit stringy, too, like a mango or a pineapple. It was ridiculously sweet; if they were peaches, they'd be the heavy syrup kind. It tasted sort of peachy, sort of mango-y. The pieces were about the size of pineapple chunks, but sliced much thinner. I couldn't manage to actually chew them into anything smaller than they already were, and they got slimier and goopier, so I pulled a French abortion and spat them into the sink.

I'm waiting until my grass jelly drink gets cold in the fridge before I try it. Somehow, I think cold grass jelly would go down better than warm.

None of my family will try my ethnic gastronomic curiosities. Wimps. When it comes to imports, they don't venture much beyond Toblerone. Last month, however, I bought a tin of Spotted Dick at an import store, and they did try that, I must admit. It was like a very wet, sicky-sweet muffin in a can. It wasn't bad.

But if I'm honest, I'll take the chocolate over Spotted Dick or Sweet Jackfruit any day. The jury's still out on the grass jelly drink.