The Daily bulletin. [volume] (Honolulu [Hawaii]) 1882-1895, 1892-03-10
Tropical Fruits Not What They
Are Cracked Up to Be.
conhdenced by a Chnaman with Bowl.
ing Alley Citron
"Conflagratiou Jones" in Chicago Inter-
Ocean, Feb. 2l.

ticipation of radiant, variegated,
gastronomic treat in the way Of new
tropical fruits. l heard so much
about bread fruit, custard apples, or
cherimoyers, mangoes, alligator pears,
guavas and pomegranates, to say moth
ing about the oranges, bananas, CO.
coanuts and pineapples, that l made
up my mind that l would order the
whole genealogical shooting match the
first time l sat down at table. l
was the victim of bitter dsappoint-
ment when reached that verse of the
Hawaiian Hotels bill of fare, denom-
mated by One Lung, the waiter, as
"fute." There were apples, import
ed from California; grapes, imported
from California; peaches, imported
from California; and oranges, i'm
ported from California. | did not
like to kick about my food in public,
for the man who does so is usually
the one who lives on cotton batting,
bakers bread and fried liver when at
home. L didn't want the populace to
think | had never eaten any fruit
other than cucumber pickles and cod
fish balls, and so held my peace. But
| went out on still hunt for any
thing that grew on trees and could be
chewed by determined man whose
teeth are sound. My first experience
was with fiery, untamed tamarind.
1t is an innocent looking product but
1t is loaded with vinegar.
had eaten tamarind paste in the
States which tasted like condensed
lemonade, and was very good, so
when Mr.. Castle handed me brown
pod about as big as mans thumb
and stood back to see me break out
and talk anarchy, [ thought his pre-
caution unreasonable. broke open
the shuck and found it contained a
dark reddish mud, in which were
some hairs, which looked as though
the cook were little careless, and
two or three vest buttons. l separa-
ted this debris and put the rest in my
eager mouth. 1t wasn't bad. 1t
tasted like chemically pure tartaric
acid toned down with lemon juice.
My teeth curled up their toes and
rocked on their foundations. l have
been going around since with mouth
drawn up Ike that of an enthusiastic
amateur flute player.
The name "Breadfruit' is an at
tractive one and sounds toothsome.
1t had always been a youthful dream
of mine to run away to sea and get
wrecked on some balmy winter re-
sort where l could 60 out and pluck
my morning roll from the trees, and
L still continued to cherish the dream
when found later in life that it was
frequently necessary to get out of
cold winter night and hustle around
with pan of dough because Mrs.
Jones had forgotten to set the
"emptyns' near enough to the regis
ter. But with all that am not will
ing to substitute breadfruit for bread
without the fruit in the Jones family
menu. For the first two or three
days at the hotel | stuck up my nose
at biscuit, rolls, bread, flannel
cakes, and all that, and called hard
at the Chinaman for breadfruit. He
invariably gave me the Chinese equi-
valent for the sentence, "I'm sorry,
sir, but we are just out of bread
fruit" That is, l suppose it was
what he said. He may, however,
have been calling me laundering
idiot. That is probably what he
thought anyway.
soon found out that if l was
going to eat breadfruit l would have
to be my own walking steward and
possibly baker; SO | started out to
run down and corral a baking. |
first fell into the clutches of low
down Chinese fruit vendor who sold
me citron, warranting it the finest
kind of salt-rising breadfruit. I
toted this shameless fraud around
with me for two or three hours, until
an acquaintance casually asked me if
L was going to make preserves.
After being set right / went back
and hunted up the Chinaman who
failed TO recognize me. In fact, he
said he never saw me before and that
l had done my business previously
with his twin brother, who was dis
grace to the family and had just been
taken to Jail. He offered TO sell me
some taro root which was the genuine
product of the flour and yeast tree,
as he solemnly assured me on his
yellow, slant-eyed honor. But | had
eaten taro and | was angry. If |
could have seen his dishonest bro
ther it would have gone hard with
one of us. | chased around under a
hot sun, until | ran across a native
with the real thing. They were green
ana had surface like an Usage
orange, and were about the size of
the smaller bowling alley weapons.
took it up to the hotel and told the
steward that when it was light
enough to go in the oven / wanted it
cooked and served at the Chicago
table. In two or three days, or after
1t had ripened sufficiently, it was
brought on. 1t is not to be cut in
slices, as one would suppose, but
had to be broken open. took a
mouthful and stopped proceedings to
diagnose its symptoms. | believe