This time, I was brought back to the magic fruit shop by a sudden craving for actual meat-like Danish/Irish bacon instead of the rectangular cuttings of pure fat that America attaches to the word. I had to smile to myself when I realized that thanks to our recent life transition, I had got there in less than Infinite Dreams' playing time (6:09) instead of the hours-long expedition that it used to be. A quick look around the boxes of weird things and I was home again in time for breakfast.

What's my fruit? Well, I have rather less of an idea about that myself, this time. They were in a box labelled "Burro bananas", from Colombia, but they look rather more bulky than the images that I've found of those online. They could be Saba fruit, but Saba fruit might also be the same thing as burro bananas. Whatever they are, they look like podgy little bananas that are slightly off-colour. I should mention that they've been allowed to ripen somewhat since this photograph was taken, but that the difference doesn't really make them look any more or less attractive.

Getting into this fruit is a task in itself, because the skin is thicker than the plating on the average ironclad warship. You can't peel them like bananas as God intended without utterly destroying the fruit inside, and instead need to knife them lengthways and hack off the outer skin, leaving a yellowish oblong mass that tastes of very little except perhaps starch with a hint of chalk. You can, however, chop them up into discs and fry them - after which they will come out with a crispy skin and taste oddly like roast potatoes, nothing like what you would expect from something so outwardly banana-like. This fruit would appear to have taken the wrong career path somewhere in its evolution, and would be much better suited as a vegetable.

I've actually just found a Blogspot journal called Fruitectives that's doing this exact same thing, but I'd like to think that my effort is still worthwhile due to not using the word "nommability".