More than halfway up Rosemary Lane there’s a giant tree that we’d always wondered about. The fruit on it looked like kiwi, but when Jon picked one and stomped on it, it wasn’t. Then the other day on our way up the hill we saw an old local woman was using a rake to collect the fruit, so we stopped to ask her about it. It’s called sapodilla, and she was tickled pink that we were interested in it. She instructed us to come back in a few days and she would give us a couple to try – the fruit won’t ripen on the tree, and she wanted to make sure it was ready to eat right at the moment she handed it over. Ohhh myyy gossshhh. It was so good. Yet so weird. It had the consistency of a baked sweet potato mixed with a pear. And it tasted sort of like a sweet potato, too… we stood eating, juice running down our arms, trying to figure out how to describe the taste, and we never succeeded. We just agreed that it was the most unusual food we’d ever eaten, and that it was delicious, and that when we ate it it went into our stomachs, so it was overall a great experience.
The woman that gave them to us is named Priscilla, and she shares the house adjacent to the tree with her sister. They’re both super friendly and have always grinned and waved at us each time we pass their home. I love nice people!
This is Benji, their tortoise. He’s 60 years old – Priscilla’s had him for 40 of those. He follows her around like a dog. The other day when we stopped by, she was trying to weed the yard and Benji kept getting underfoot. She chuckled to herself and said his name with so much affection that my little heart melted into a puddle. When I asked her what Benji eats, she responded, “Fruit…porridge…anything, really”. Porridge! For a tortoise! Named Benji! I can’t be the only person who thinks that’s hilarious.