Testing the Tiny: Petite Pineapples

For my next newspaper column (Cute Fruit), I’m trying three toy versions of familiar fruits. Previously, I wrote about Munchkin grapes. Now it's time to talk about puny pineapples.

Unlike with 'grape,' there are plenty of adjectival (a real word!) alliterations for 'pineapple.' I will try to avoid overusing them, but I can't promise anything. Of course, I'd never write pygmy pineapple. Never.

Anyway, these piddling--no, too derogatory--pint-sized pineapples recently appeared in my supermarket and I was smitten. While smaller grapes don't serve any purpose other than filling the fruit basket in the Barbie mansion, baby pineapples' size isn't just a novelty. They're actually useful. Pocket-sized pineapples are handy in that they're the perfect amount for one person. For that reason, I think Personal Pineapple would be a better nom de commerce than South African Baby Pineapple.

Despite its ideal lunch box size, its tough outer layer keeps it from being a brown-baggin'-it fruit. Melissa's Produce, the fruit's importer, boasts that there's no need to core it. While that is true, it's not like the middle tastes great.

What does taste great is everything else. There isn't a noticeable difference in flavor between a regular and a picayune pineapple. Because it's one of my favorite fruits, that's fine by me.

Stay tuned for the final installment of the Tiny Trilogy. I promise to avoid alliterations in writing about baby bananas. OK, except maybe that one.