This just drives me crazy. One of the blogs I follow called My Plastic Free Life calls these little dealios a “gimme” meaning it’s an unavoidable plastic. Me, I’m not so much concerned about the plastic here but the ruination of fruit.
On the plus side I was forced to eat this immediately and it was the best I’ve had in years. I took one to my mother who could not believe how delicious it was commenting on every single bite.
It smelled good, it looked good and the feel was almost right. Not exactly like the skin on the back of gramma’s arm, but close enough. The first nectarine of the season was dry, tasteless. I ate it, I’ll eat nearly anything. And I know it’s early, the season will bring new ones.
The finest summer fruit. Gotta let ’em get soft as the back of grandma’s upper arm and then refrigerate them. Eat over the sink and let the juice run. (The juice stains like crazy) You can do all sorts of things with nectarines, they make a nice salsa, they’re great in pies and tarts but the best way is just pure and simple. I know I’ve said this all before but it bears repeating. One should not miss out on one of the great joys of life.
It is a cinch I am not going to make that insane juice/smoothie/jelly crap again. I figure I can just as well eat the damn fruit. Won’t need that juicer. Not sure about the kale issue. But I may attempt kale chips. Everyone (read: crazy people) loves them. More on this later.
I bought my first nectarines this week. They are my hands-down favorite fruit. When they are good. They must be be cold and soft as the back my grandmother’s upper arm (this means letting them ripen on the counter for a while which can mean the dreaded fruit fly so one needs to be vigilant) and eaten only while leaning over the sink so the juice (which stains forever) can drip into the sink. Not how I like to eat but it’s worth it.
This nectarine was not as ripe as it should have been. It was a little crunchy (my friend Cindy eats them this way, horrifying) but it was better than that awful strawberry.
For book club last week (we read The Marriage Plot by Jeffrey Eugenedies, yawn, though Richard liked it) I had to make some sort of sweet breakfast thing. I found a recipe online that used a boxed yellow cake. It called for apple pie filling but I had nectarines so I used them instead. It was even more boring than the book (that Richard LOVED).
It had a “boxed cake” taste that I have come to find disagreeable. I suppose I have to learn how to make a cake without a box. Although Alton Brown says that boxed cakes are as good as it gets but then, it’s not the first time he’s let me down.
In any event, very little was eaten and the next morning it was covered with green mold. Good thing I have an industrial disposal.
There is absolutely no more delicious fruit than the nectarine. None. The trick of the thing, though, is that they must be really really really ripe. My friend Cindy eats them on the crunchy side. This is wrong. Just plain not right. I wait for summer nectarines and then let them ripen on my counter until they have the consistency of the skin on the back of my grandmother’s upper arm. Gotta.
At that point they go in the refrigerator until they are cold. They must be eaten with care because they are really messy. And they stain. Like plums, they stain any and everything and nothing gets the stain out. But while greedily eating one over the sink and letting the juice sluice, as it will, down the drain is my preferred method of consumption, a more careful approach of cutting it into pieces and daintily eating each section allows you to actually savor all that luscious liquid.
Fruit flies can be the downside of keeping them on the counter. Nothing I know of can get rid of fruit flies and they are a goddam bother when you’re trying to swill a glass of red wine. But it’s a small price to pay for the complete perfection of a nectarine.
The one pictured here was sweeter than honey. It was exquisite.