The Quest for Pineapples
My summer has been flush with fruit. I’ve piled blueberries on my waffles, smashed bananas into the blender, ordered my milk tea with mango bits, and eaten peaches with just about everything. The other day I took a walk by the freeway and there were blackberries sprouting everywhere, free fruit just begging to be devoured. Of course I acquiesced. Who could say no to a blackberry? A fart bubble of a human being, that’s who.
But I haven’t eaten a single bite of pineapple all summer long. Not chopped, not pureed, not even baked into a cake. I don’t know how I let it happen, but the tangy sweetness of pineapple hasn’t crossed my tongue once. Clearly I need a talking to.
This is an odd summer, where so many traditional activities have had to be crossed off the list. There’s been no swimming, no backyard barbecues, no beach vacations, or movie theater hangouts. Somehow the humble pineapple has become a symbol for the salvation of my summer. I don’t need any of that other stuff, if only I can decided upon the perfect way to experience the fruit.
A pineapple upside down cake seemed like a promising option, until I remembered that I’m absolute shit at baking. I like to blame the oven in my apartment for being unpredictable, but it’s mostly a ruse between the two of us. The oven covers for me on the baking thing and I promise to halfheartedly clean it every 4.5 years. Everyone wins.
Next I figured I’d make a smoothie. I’m skilled at creating smoothies, because, let’s be honest, it’s an easy thing to do. Never trust someone who can’t make a smoothie, because they’re probably terrible at a lot of things. However, purchasing an entire pineapple and putting it in a smoothie seems… intimidating? It would require the use of a very large knife to slice through that porcupinesque outer skin most pineapples feature. When I handle very large knives, it ends up being a 50/50 scenario whether I retain all my fingers.
(At this point you’re probably wondering how I’ve managed to function as a human being for all these years and I’d like to take the opportunity to point out that we all have very different definitions for what “functional” consists of.)
So, I’m going to need to outsource this pineapple thing. I need to find a sweet shop or cafe (takeout, of course) that knows exactly what to do with a ripe pineapple and I need to give them all my money. Then, when the moment comes, I’ll close my eyes, I’ll take a huge bite, and I’ll forget all the craziness of the world, because everything will be pineapple. 🍍