This week my husband went out into our woods and shook some trees--literally--and a harvest of pawpaws came tumbling down, so today was pawpaw day in my Honors Lit class. We're in the middle of Cold Mountain and I want students to know what kinds of things Inman might have been eating during his long trek through the autumn woods, so pawpaws appropriately enhance the learning experience.
Students were appreciative, but a few of them made some interesting faces in response to their first taste of that sticky yellow flesh, and of course now the aroma has suffused the entire building. A few students discreetly discarded their pawpaws while others came back for seconds. I was just happy to put part of our harvest to good use, because we can't possibly eat our entire harvest. And besides, eating pawpaws is a cultural experience! It may look like the bastard lovechild of a pear and a potato, but a pawpaw tastes like a walk in the autumn woods.
I'm bananas for pawpaws,
that green, lumpy fruit
that grows in the woods in the autumn.
If you like 'em too,
here's some advice for you:
Just stop by my office--I've got'em.
Surely someone out there can do better than that. Show me some pawpaw poetry!
2 comments:
Paw paw, o paw paw,
Your large seeds doth ruin
What sweet flesh concealed-
Hidden under tough wrapper-
Is so easily spoiled
With passage of time
Not better than yours, but hey, it's a try!
Very nice, and so true! The aroma of pawpaws is dominating my house right now, and if we don't eat them a little more quickly, we'll soon be overwhelmed.
Post a Comment