jummalo the pommelo

Early one bright Saturday morning, Sarah introduced me to her friend, Axel.

This is Axel.










Not to be confused with Axl.













However, we did frequently sing "welcome to the jungle" and "sweet child o mine" or just a wailing guitar solo when the lyrics didn't come to mind.

Anyway, even earlier on that bright morning, we picked up a mutual friend from the grocery store. His name was Jummalo. He was a honey pommelo. Say HI Jummalo.





hi.




Neither Sarah nor I knew exactly what to expect from him. I thought he might be citrusy. Sarah hoped he was melony. We even told a delightful old German man that we were quite excited to taste the flesh of this oddly bulbous fruit and assumed it would be sweet and delicious quite unlike our beloved Jummalo at home.

In any case, I knew from the start I was going to eat the hell out of this fruit!










Jummalo was a bit reluctant to be eaten at first. His skin is hard and a bit rubbery. And no one wanted to take the first bite. Jummalo wasn't going to willingly open himself up to two girls and a German Hairband stand in. So we gave it the knife.











He was feisty at first! And gave me a sharp bite on my fingertips! (it didn't hurt, like the swan, he didn't have any teeth.)










Then we asked Jummalo his heart's desire and last request. He replied that he longed to have a kiss of true love before he died. Sarah with her ever sympathetic heart granted this wish. I hope this picture isn't too scandalous for the internet!










In the end, he was bitter and sour and the rind was hard, just like our good friend Jummalo at home. He was not unenjoyable to eat, but we decided not to finish him up and most of him remains in Sarah's fridge. Axel was actually the most brave in eating the Jummalo, and commented afterward that it broke his teeth. I sucked out the juice and spit out the guts. We all know how Sarah has a taste for the bitter, but she too, didn't take pleasure in eating this fruit.


I still feel terrible for misleading that old man in the grocery store. Old man, if you're reading this. Do not try the Pommelo. Instead you should make friends with a bitter and sarcastic man who goes by a similar name. At least he might take a fall down some stairs for your amusement.

And that was the story of Jummalo the Pommelo.



Auf Wiedersehen,
Gigi