This morning for breakfast I washed and put on my family’s plates some beautiful big Driscoll’s strawberries. They looked perfectly ripe and not at all moldy or mushy – a normally overlooked plus you learn to appreciate here, given the extra distance they travel on hot cargo ships (ok, so they’re probably refrigerated, but I bet the fruit has periods of hot dock-sitting). Anyway, Husband ate one then asked me where I got them in a tone that implied the answer should be ‘the dump.’ I answered ‘Marina Market’ (which usually has good produce that lasts a while – and they had better, at those prices). “Well they taste like fish.” What? “Impossible” I replied (although in the back of my mind, I realized that was not at all impossible considering our lives.) Husband does exaggerate sometimes, so I dismissed it, and even put a few of the berries in BG’s lunch. Five minutes after Husband walked out door with BG to take her to school and go to work, I cleaned up breakfast and popped an uneaten strawberry in my mouth. Sure enough, it was like how I imagine a fish market might taste if you took a bite out of it. And not a nice sushi bite either– a days-old fish oil-soaked-wooden-counter-type bite. Nasty, and it continued with a long oily aftertaste. I immediately called Husband and told him that he was completely right, I was sorry I doubted him, and to please throw away BGs strawberries when they got to school. This story is frustrating on several levels: one, I had to admit I was wrong after I told Husband he was wrong (and implied he was ridiculous); two, I had to throw away a 6 dollar box of strawberries; and three, I had to eat a fish-tasting strawberry. I think I would rather have had a strawberry-tasting fish.
“Kongolo” it has happened to me with almost every produce bought on this Island! It has made me considerin more than one occassion to cut that entire food category out of our daily meals entirely!