That’s what I see when I’m walking around the village, scoping out coconut trees and ogling the abundance of mangos scattered everywhere.
There are plenty of fruit trees I can’t identify.
And others that I’m not brave enough to try like the cashew.
Apparently the cashews have an oil that gives you something along the lines of poison ivy when handled. The nuts need to be carefully boiled and baked before they’re edible but the caustic fumes from the process can damage your lungs. Yikes! I don’t trust myself to touch this yet.
Now I can get down with some mangos. There are so many mango trees on the peninsula and they bear a TON of fruit; parts of the village smell like kombucha because dozens and dozens of mangos have fallen to rot on the ground.
Well waste not want not as they say. Our morning routine has become a walk around town to scavenge from a few of my favorite trees (there are plenty in public spaces, don’t pilfer from someone’s yard without permission). This haul is from a tree near Yoli’s Bar.
There’s also a tree in the cemetery that yields a few quality mangos.
Mitch spotted this tree with some beautiful mangos but I didn’t feel comfortable entering their yard.
By the end of our walk I’ll usually end up with a bag or two of super ripe fallen fruit. Then in the afternoon while Mitch naps, I clean, cut and freeze my haul.
Now I can’t wait for my food processor to get here so we can have mango sorbet!