Odds, Ends, and Guanabana Juice · 29 March 2007
The next post will return to the regularly scheduled program, with a book review followed by a few posts about foodventures inspired by the book.
Until then, enjoy the tale of me wrapping up some loose ends as I spent most of this week on site design.
It was sometime during fourth grade when I realized I had certain tendencies that didn’t make me popular with the “in crowd.” I was attending a new school, and making friends was a rough process. I was far too interested in class material, I liked answering questions when called upon by the teacher, and I had the insufferable habit of trying to prove myself right. Looking back on my nine-year-old self from the perspective of an adult, it’s no wonder that the other kids harassed me; I was a brat.
My fourth grade self didn’t understand the concept of team building or finding common ground with my classmates. Life was black and white; either you were with me or you weren’t. Fortunately I’ve grown out of that incredibly polarized view and learned to accept people on their own merits. Even so, there are certain things that are guaranteed to provoke certain reactions with me, albeit better hidden beneath a veneer of socialization..
If you tell me I’m wrong, and I know I’m right, I’ll likely not stop until I’ve proved it. Such is the case with the “mythical” guanabana juice. Purely in jest, my boyfriend kept reminding me that I couldn’t find it because “It doesn’t exist!” Now, I know that he wasn't serious. Secretly (though not so secretly anymore) I think he just likes poking at me until he gets a reaction beyond that of my calm exterior. (It’s possible that I may have overdone the self correction thing when I consciously made an effort not to be so abrasive). Even so, when he said that guanabana juice didn’t exist, I took it upon myself to prove otherwise.
Without this poking, I probably would have checked a few grocery stores and, failing to find the guanabana juice, left it there in pursuit of other projects. With the addition of the challenge, I didn’t let it go. What was originally conceived as an entry to a February book review has stretched out until the end of March.
Finally, after scouring the juice aisles of every grocery store placed in my path, I tracked down the mythical guanabana juice (at least 20% of it per can).
Was it worth it? I’ll say yes. I visited markets that I never would have frequented without this quest and spied a few interesting new products. I was made more aware of the cultural divide in Southern California when I visited the Hispanic markets and the clerks spoke Spanish to everyone, until I stepped up to the register. I wanted to shout, "¡Yo hablo español!" (At least enough to make it though a checkout line) but I found I wasn’t brave enough to do so.
I also found a promising new blog read, Caron at San Diego Foodstuff tipped me off to the market where I eventually found success.
And what was the guanabana juice like? It was a nectary concoction, similar to Kern’s in consistency. The flavor was light but very sugary (especially to someone who only drinks soda about twice a year). It reminded me of guava juice and had a pleasant aftertaste. Served chilled, I imagine it would be a wonderful thirst quencher in the hot summer months, even with all the sugar, and I have no troubles imagining the Mirabel sisters gulping it down in response to their mother’s urging.
As a health side note, it is reported that there is a link between guanabana consumption and an atypical form of Parkinson’s disease, so I think I’ll be sticking to easier to find and less concerning juices.
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