I've always wanted to try a real coconut. Not Almond Joy coconut, but Survivor coconut. Delicious, delightful, delectable coconut. So tonight, while at Vons, Pete and I bought one and brought it home. I even studiously read the sticker on "Melissa's Quick Crack Coconut" to avoid any mishandling of my perfect coconut. It read:
Fresh coconut is delicious to eat out of hand, as well as in sweet and savory dishes. Shredded coconut is great over fruit salad, desserts, and cereal. To crack open, puncture the closest eye (WHAT?!) with a dull knife, drain the liquid. (I totally didn't.) With a kitchen mallet or hammer, whack the coconut into the eye. Enjoy the delicious coconut.
It said that with unashamed, simple joy. Enjoy the delicious coconut. As though I should expect nothing less than perfection from my coconut.
I used a knife to twist a hole into "the eye" (there were three or four), and as I did so, a crazy unexpected burst of air released, which was a little frightening, actually. I should have questioned that burst of air; what kind of evil fruit RELEASES A PUTRID EXPLOSION OF AIR when you peel/cut/cleaver it? Despite the foreboding nature of that event, I nevertheless took an excited sip OF THE MOST VILE-TASTING DISGUSTINGNESS IMAGINABLE.
And yet, my spirits were still not dampened. Onward, brave coconut soldiers! Pete and I, disappointingly, do not have the pleasure of owning a kitchen mallet or a hammer, so Pete used a meat cleaver (now named Instrument of Destruction) to bash it open. And I do mean BASH BASH BASH BASH. Please note: I do not recommend this method, as coconut shrapnel flew at me, and it was not pleasant having the vile putridness of coconut juice ON MY ARM.
And even then, dripping with coconut juice, I still had hopes for the coconut. High hopes of sweet, sweet, heavenly, scrumdiddlyumptious coconut.
But no. It was not to be. The teeny tiny bit that I had tasted EXACTLY LIKE THE OFFENSIVE MILK. Exactly. Even now, removed from the horror, I lapse into involuntary convulsions.
In the future, I swear to never, ever, ever, ever question why the contestants on Survivor complain about not having food and that they're starving when they have plenty of coconuts. Hoards of coconuts. Stockpiles of coconuts. I get it now. I've been enlightened.
Later, Pete built a fort:
These are the things we do for fun on Wednesday nights.
2 Comments:
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July 3, 2008 at 2:20 PM
Man, I wish I was there when this all went down but your story telling skills are much better than my own so I really didn't need to be there. I seriously was laughing outloud when I read this especially since I was remembering when I got home and you had me try the last of the "juice" that was in the cup...sigh, good times.July 6, 2008 at 8:36 PMLove that you are blogging. Pete's fort building skills could use some work.
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