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Tropicália

Even more so than the inevitable scent of suntan lotion, it's the taste of fresh coconut juice that marks the beginning of warm weather.

Walking around in a pleasant, warmth-induced daze this afternoon, I decided to make a several-block detour in order to enjoy the first fresh young coconut of the season. Outside of a favorite Chinatown grocery, I stood behind a flirtatiously bantering (proto?-)couple as they waited for the grocer to lop the tops off their coconuts. Ah, spring.

The couple moved on, I asked for a coconut of my own, and waited. But not long; the grocer quickly scalped the fruit and handed it to me with a straw. I began to walk, but at the first taste of the juice — standing on a busy Chinatown corner — I had to stop and get my bearings. Where did I want to sit and enjoy this? The juice was better than anything I remembered. It was sweeter, and fresher, too. Without wandering too far, I sat down on a stoop in direct sunlight, enjoying every sip and trying to make the juice — and the experience — last.

Then I walked the five paces back to the grocer and asked him to split the fruit open so that I could get at the coconut meat inside. He laid the nut on the sidewalk and thwacked it with his cleaver. Short of actually being in the tropics, this was a fantastic way to experience warm weather.

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This page contains a single entry from the blog posted on April 23, 2007 5:57 PM.

The previous post in this blog was Hoy Fanesca.

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