By Joel Denker
The hefty, melon-like fruit lay in a straw basket on the cafe counter. The papaya’s hardy skin was a dark green. As the days passed, the color became yellowish, slightly brown. The delectable fruit was ripening. It was ready to be converted into a smoothie, the fruit shake that is the drawing card of Jolt ‘N Bolt, the Adams-Morgan coffee house (1918 18th St., N.W., 232-0077).
Farooq Munir, the owner, sliced a papaya open, revealing the vivid, pinkish orange flesh and a cavity of dark black seeds that resembled caviar. From the blender, he poured me a frothy, light pink refreshment that married the papaya’s delicate sweetness with the creamy flavor of milk.
The papaya was a mystery to me. I struggled to identify its unusual flavor. Farooq and I exchanged notes. It reminded me of a tender melon, I told him. The subtle taste and fragrance enveloped me. To Farooq, the papaya’s gift was its “tropical taste” and vanilla sensation. The fruit, he observed, offered a “rainy” flavor.
This was no mango, a fruit of sharp intensity. Its very mildness evoked a range of associations, that revealed as much about us as it did the papaya.
∼
To learn more about papayas, see The Carrot Purple and Other Curious Stories of the Food We Eat, coming in October from Rowman & Littlefield: https://rowman.com/ISBN/9781442248861/The-Carrot-Purple-and-Other-Curious-Stories-of-the-Food-We-Eat.
