I received an invitation today to heaven. My heaven – one coated in maple syrup mixed with roasted sweet potatoes. My heaven is creamy like avocado and rich like butterscotch, but dairy-free, like chicken soup for the lactose intolerant soul.
The producer of organic lucuma powder for the dried fruit and nuts company, Prana, invited me to visit the lucuma fields in northern Peru while I’m in the country these few months, and his words touched my heart. I’m to go to his offices in Lima next week to tour the facility, and then in February, “We coordinate the visit to fields of lucuma,” he says. This is perfect English to me; it could not be said any better. If he’d said, “You will come to the lucuma farm,” it wouldn’t have seemed as magical. No, I definitely need to ‘visit to fields of lucuma.”
So, lucuma, I will see you in February. Until then, I will drink you in juice, without milk (“che rico!“) and buy you organic from the Miraflores Saturday market. Your green and yellow skin will wrinkle and peel when ripe, and every time I take a bite of you I will dream of you in fields and on trees, aromatic and creamy and full of warm sun.
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