Guanabana.

The nightbird and the Soursop.

Ive been drinking alot of this lately. Ive been drinking alot of this my whole life actually. But im only now calling it by its gringo name. By gringo I mean, what im guessing is British-Carribean. The Soursop. I have two Soursop trees and we are in harvest mode. I love this fruit. Im not a fan of mixing milk and fruit and finding it refreshing but this, well this is something else. It tastes like a cross between a kiwi and a key lime without it being tart or acidic. To me and the rest of the nation this awesome, gnarly looking fruit is called Guanabana. Almost like that played out little jingle. Everynight for the last few days ive been harvesting from one to three, ranging in size anywhere from a softball to football. Commercial varieties can get as big as a baby. One of the many talents one picks up living on a farm in the country is the art of listening. Knowing how to identify each and every somewhat regularly occuring sound, from the sound of a lock barely tapping a metal gate, to the sound of a soft fruit landing in the grass. You dont want to waste time and thought going “what was that?!” every time you hear something. That little alarm you save for when you need it. Everynight you hear that unmistakable thud and go grab a flashlight and its like an easter egg hunt. I have not once had to climb this tree to collect its fruit. Nocturnal birds, bats and marsupials are pretty good at knocking this fruit down when its at its peak. When on impact, its skin tears a (like the one in the picture) thats when youve got a perfect one.