Sunday, August 22, 2010


I’ve never liked nectarines.... they're hard and get progressively more sour as you work your way to the centre... or so I thought.

The other day, I saw these beautiful pink-red-orange orbs almost glowing in their ripeness from a distance. Mesmerized, I rushed over only to see the sign: Italian nectarines. "Well, then," I thought to myself. "They look absolutely delectable. They can't possibly taste bad if they're this gorgeous..." utterly unable to stop myself, I picked out a few of the reddest ones and bought them. At home, I washed them, put them in a bowl, and eyed them warily. Could something so irresistible be sour? Could these really be nectarines?

The answer is no: these are not nectarines; they are the fruit of the gods. They were firm but not crunchy; sweet but tangy; juicy but not watery. For once, the appearance was not deceiving.

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