So in the early hours of the morning, before the sun came out in full force, I took my two youngest kids grocery shopping. The store carried a small selection of tropical fruit, so I suggested we try the lychees.
Imported from Thailand, they’d been freed from their branches, but still seemed as fresh as could be expected.
My five-year-old daughter took to them right away. After I showed her how to peel the skin, she quickly mastered the art of shelling a lychee: peel, bite, spit out the pit.
I’ve bought canned lychees before, but can’t remember the last time we had fresh ones at home. Eating lychees today brought me back to the first time I ate them fresh.
It was the summer of 1988 and my first trip to China. At 17 years old, I peeled them in a white plastic bag while I rode around Shanghai as a passenger in a pedicab, keeping cool from the juicy flesh of this sweet fruit. Few people in Shanghai drove cars back then, so the noise on the street sounded like a symphony of bicycle bells.
That bag of lychees certainly cost a fraction of the US$4.99/pound I paid today!