![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWzmsu9EgaO_3wYfauk7iJ7aotCAc-nD2MAToWw2jZdsCqaWwqQ4f-i2Pz-OdVQTx-MN9MLkhX5LeqpWDmsE4uEGBVlN0n9rDtwtahwHI5lvPx-oE0zP7C9UBqxJtELUsfJH_TJ0p0hB-7/s320/800px-Cherimoya_fruit_hg.jpg)
Apparently that's what Mark Twain called the cherimoya. I was at the farmers market yesterday and was curious as to what this avocado/artichoke-looking thing was. I couldn't even read the smudged marker on the sign. "Cherimoya," said the farmer. He took a small ripe one, broke it in half, and gave us the pieces. The inside is a white flesh, with easily discernible black seeds. Thankfully so, as if crushed, the seeds are poisonous. Is it "deliciousness itself?" Maybe not, but definitely good. It tastes like a banana had a threesome with a pear and a pineapple. (That image is sexier than the fruit's actual appearance.) I decided to stick with strawberries and navel oranges, as the cherimoyas were fairly pricey, but I will be back. Mark my words, cherimoya. I will be back.
That's a pretty sexy image there.
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