We were having some people over for dinner, so I had to stop at Trader Joe’s to pick up something.
While I was passing through the produce section, I saw a clamshell of goldenberries. Considering it my professional duty to try new items of specialty produce, I scooped it up.
The berries weren’t very good. They combined sourness and bitterness in a way that was impressive, after a fashion, but not desirable.
When will I buy goldenberries again? Not soon.
I have had similar luck with other attempts at specialty produce.
Dragon fruit that tasted as if somebody had stuck a syringe in a watermelon and sucked out all the color and flavor.
The jackfruit—I followed good advice and carved it up outside on the deck. I tasted it. I had to debate a minute about whether to carry it through the kitchen to the garbage bin in the garage or take it all the way around the house.
There were the feijoas of yore, which, in my 35-year-old memory, were hard and flavorless.
Cherimoyas—that’s another story. I first heard about them from a friend who had taken a trip to Peru.
“What are cherimoyas?” I asked.
“The best fruit ever,” she replied.
After tasting them, I was inclined to agree. But I have given up seeking them out, because the last couple of times I did, they were not only extremely expensive but disagreeable: the milky white flesh on the interior had turned into a remorseful brown.
I am utterly certain that there is any amount of goldenberries, dragon fruit, and jackfruit out there that is superbly delicious. But I’m not likely to find these items anytime soon, if only because they’ve failed the “feel like” test. I have not sworn never to let them pass my lips again, but I’m not eager to give them a second try.
I just don’t feel like it.
I have also had mealy apples, mushy oranges, and peaches that were nothing more than spheres of brown rot. On the other hand, I have tasted enough delicious specimens of each of these fruits that I will of course try them again.
In this regard, I suspect that the typical consumer is, like me, ruthless when experimenting with new produce items.
Which leads me to believe that with many consumers, your novel fruits have one chance. If they’re good that time, you may have a repeat purchaser. If not, you may have a never-again on your hands.
I can’t imagine that this situation has changed now when shoppers are hyperconscious of food inflation and are likely to be much more parsimonious than before.
Probably the way to prevent this is for produce managers to select flavorful and perfectly ripe specimens of novel specialty fruits, cut them up, and leave them out as samples. (At least when everybody relaxes enough to have food samples again in stores.)
In the meantime, I can dream of the perfect goldenberry.
We were having some people over for dinner, so I had to stop at Trader Joe’s to pick up something.
While I was passing through the produce section, I saw a clamshell of goldenberries. Considering it my professional duty to try new items of specialty produce, I scooped it up.
The berries weren’t very good. They combined sourness and bitterness in a way that was impressive, after a fashion, but not desirable.
When will I buy goldenberries again? Not soon.
I have had similar luck with other attempts at specialty produce.
Dragon fruit that tasted as if somebody had stuck a syringe in a watermelon and sucked out all the color and flavor.
The jackfruit—I followed good advice and carved it up outside on the deck. I tasted it. I had to debate a minute about whether to carry it through the kitchen to the garbage bin in the garage or take it all the way around the house.
There were the feijoas of yore, which, in my 35-year-old memory, were hard and flavorless.
Cherimoyas—that’s another story. I first heard about them from a friend who had taken a trip to Peru.
“What are cherimoyas?” I asked.
“The best fruit ever,” she replied.
After tasting them, I was inclined to agree. But I have given up seeking them out, because the last couple of times I did, they were not only extremely expensive but disagreeable: the milky white flesh on the interior had turned into a remorseful brown.
I am utterly certain that there is any amount of goldenberries, dragon fruit, and jackfruit out there that is superbly delicious. But I’m not likely to find these items anytime soon, if only because they’ve failed the “feel like” test. I have not sworn never to let them pass my lips again, but I’m not eager to give them a second try.
I just don’t feel like it.
I have also had mealy apples, mushy oranges, and peaches that were nothing more than spheres of brown rot. On the other hand, I have tasted enough delicious specimens of each of these fruits that I will of course try them again.
In this regard, I suspect that the typical consumer is, like me, ruthless when experimenting with new produce items.
Which leads me to believe that with many consumers, your novel fruits have one chance. If they’re good that time, you may have a repeat purchaser. If not, you may have a never-again on your hands.
I can’t imagine that this situation has changed now when shoppers are hyperconscious of food inflation and are likely to be much more parsimonious than before.
Probably the way to prevent this is for produce managers to select flavorful and perfectly ripe specimens of novel specialty fruits, cut them up, and leave them out as samples. (At least when everybody relaxes enough to have food samples again in stores.)
In the meantime, I can dream of the perfect goldenberry.
Richard Smoley, contributing editor for Blue Book Services, Inc., has more than 40 years of experience in magazine writing and editing, and is the former managing editor of California Farmer magazine. A graduate of Harvard and Oxford universities, he has published 12 books.
