Adam Leith Gollner, The Fruit Hunters
To paraphrase the great Norman Maclean, the world is full of weirdos, the number increasing rapidly the further one gets from Missoula, Montana. (He said "bastards," but the intertubes suggest that mostly people remember the reference as "assholes." Moving on, though.)
In The Fruit Hunters, Adam Leith Gollner introduces us to a cast of fruit-obsessed millionaires, loners, and other misfits, all of whom share a passion not just for fruit but for weird fruit, exotic fruit from all over the world. The real stars of the book, though, is the fruit, and so the book's subtitle is a clearer portrait of the book's subject than it is of my increasingly scattered recollection, a few very busy weeks since closing the covers: A Story of Nature, Adventure, Commerce and Obsession.
Ever since then, I've been buying unexpected fruit from assorted groceries (granadilla, dragon fruits, persimmons, etc). Not all of them have been pleasant, BC being a long way from these fruits' homes, but I've come to appreciate a little more the obsessiveness of Gollner's human subjects. If you're eating something whose flavour makes no sense to you, and yet you can tell could be incredibly appealing if you could just get a better specimen, why wouldn't you spend some time and energy seeking out a better specimen? And then another specimen, and then a better variety, and then maybe a visit to its home? And why not one that might grow in your greenhouse, orangery, espalier?
That way madness lies, true enough and clear, but say the names: monkey fruit, Grains of Paradise, coco-de-mer, rambutans, jaboticaba…. These are words to conjure by, and surely flavours, too. What's not to like about a little madness among friends like these, anyway?
Well, carbon footprints, for one thing, plus exploitation tourism and gluttony capitalism and competitive foodie wankfests, all of which Gellner takes the time to describe and shame.
Oddly, I don't know who to recommend should read this book -- fascinating, but less entrancing than I would've expected. Definitely for aficionados of farmers' market who wonder about alternatives, though, and about places far away.
In The Fruit Hunters, Adam Leith Gollner introduces us to a cast of fruit-obsessed millionaires, loners, and other misfits, all of whom share a passion not just for fruit but for weird fruit, exotic fruit from all over the world. The real stars of the book, though, is the fruit, and so the book's subtitle is a clearer portrait of the book's subject than it is of my increasingly scattered recollection, a few very busy weeks since closing the covers: A Story of Nature, Adventure, Commerce and Obsession.Ever since then, I've been buying unexpected fruit from assorted groceries (granadilla, dragon fruits, persimmons, etc). Not all of them have been pleasant, BC being a long way from these fruits' homes, but I've come to appreciate a little more the obsessiveness of Gollner's human subjects. If you're eating something whose flavour makes no sense to you, and yet you can tell could be incredibly appealing if you could just get a better specimen, why wouldn't you spend some time and energy seeking out a better specimen? And then another specimen, and then a better variety, and then maybe a visit to its home? And why not one that might grow in your greenhouse, orangery, espalier?
That way madness lies, true enough and clear, but say the names: monkey fruit, Grains of Paradise, coco-de-mer, rambutans, jaboticaba…. These are words to conjure by, and surely flavours, too. What's not to like about a little madness among friends like these, anyway?
Well, carbon footprints, for one thing, plus exploitation tourism and gluttony capitalism and competitive foodie wankfests, all of which Gellner takes the time to describe and shame.
Oddly, I don't know who to recommend should read this book -- fascinating, but less entrancing than I would've expected. Definitely for aficionados of farmers' market who wonder about alternatives, though, and about places far away.
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