Things That Taste Better Than They Smell: Cherimoyas Edition

This is another post I wrote a while back for now-stalled (failed?) blogging project. Since writing this I have actually met someone who grew up on a cherimoya farm near Santa Barbara. She can't stand the fruit. And much to my chagrin, I've learned that the smell I write about below was simply the cherimoya rotting on my counter.

I have a tendency to buy exotic looking food items whenever I see them in a market, especially when I have no idea what they are. This week's purchase was a cherimoya.

As the cherimoya became ripe over the past few days, my apartment was greeted with the powerful smell of rotting vomit, bringing back fond memories of living with five other frat boys sophomore year in college.

The fruit, however, tastes sublime. It is moist, tender, and sweet, with a flavor that resembles pineapple, mango, and peach. I didn't notice any avocado-like notes, although perhaps that association is more about texture.

Would I buy one again? Not at the price I paid. (I really need to stop putting exotic items in my basket at random.) But it was delicious, and is another example of why moving to California has been such an interesting experience.

(I may make this a recurring topic. Stinky cheese and nam pla, i.e. fish sauce, are obvious items to highlight.)