Testing the Tiny: Baby Bananas

For my next newspaper column (Cute Fruit), we'll try three toy versions of familiar fruits. In the final post of the series, let's talk about mini bananas.

As illustrated at left, it's easy to feel or look like a gorilla when clutching these diminutive fruits. But don't be fooled by my powerful hands--it's just a small banana.

Perhaps because bananas are so familiar a fruit, it's odd to see one so little. More so than with baby pineapples or Munchkin grapes. But once you get past cooing at these babies, you realize there are certain advantages to the size (about half as big as a regular Cavendish banana). They're perfect for kids. Ditto for adults who enjoy a banana but fear that they're getting a tad big (see picture).

Mini bananas have a more distinct taste than other minute fruit. They're sweeter than the Cavendish. with a more delicate texture. Those factors may have something to do with the baby banana moniker. Then again, Dole’s web site writes that “Baby Bananas...received their name because resemble the hands of small children--plump and short.” Mmm, pass the kids' fingers.

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.

Testing the Tiny: Munchkin Grapes

For my upcoming column (Cute Fruit), I’m trying three toy versions of familiar fruits. First up: pimple-sized grapes. Actually currants or Zante Currant grapes, these miniatures are about one-fourth the size of a normal red grape.

Of course, the name Zante Currant Table Grapes won’t do in today’s marketing-heavy supermarket. Would you rather eat a kiwi fruit or a Chinese gooseberry (their original name)? That’s what I thought. On that logic, Garrett Brothers Inc. has dubbed them Munchkins. In my world, munchkins are either Wizard of Oz shorties or Dunkin' Donuts doughnut holes. There’s really no comparison between the latter and these currants. Little grapes, I grew up with Munchkins, I know Munchkins, Munchkins are a friend of mine. Little grapes, you are no Munchkins.

On the plus side, grapes are tad healthier than doughnut bites. Even cooler, the stems are fully edible. Or at least the smaller ones are. While I felt a bit like a goat biting into both stem and grape, Garrett Brothers’ clever slogan “You can eat a whole bunch!” is accurate.

Munchkins definitely have a different flavor than most grapes; they’re sharper and tarter. But I find them too puny to get a full handle on the flavor, just like M&M’s Minis. Besides, aren't grapes small enough already? There’s a reason Dunkin' Donuts doesn’t offer Mini Munchkins (and it’s not because the name would be redundant).

New Column in the Works

Well, friends, I've started my next column. Before discussing it further, check out this brief slide show to get you in the mood.

To answer your question: There was no digital manipulation involved in the slide show (nor were any animals hurt in its filming). They're just two shots, the second featuring a regular 12-ounce can for scale. Hopefully the Coke illustrates that the fruit on display is quite small. I'd go so far as to call it minute. If you guessed that the new column will be called "Cute Fruit," you're either my dad or are familiar with Rhyme Zone. Then again, "Minute Fruit," is a possibility. Feel free to weigh in with a comment below.

That's no giant's hand pictured on the right, it's a baby pineapple. These fruit ponies are so small, they may require a new fruit bowl. A minute bowl, if you will. But not a Manute Bol.

In the coming days, I'll taste the baby grapes, pineapple and bananas and decide if they're an improvement on the original. In short, we'll see what these babies are all about.

Forksville Update

At the end of my last post I noted that the friendly folks at Denali, although Alaska posers, refunded my $1.50 with a $5 gift certificate to Harris Teeter. After making a not-so-rare visit to that store's ice cream aisle, I realized that it wasn't overcompensation--that's what the 3 free pint coupons were--they just thought I'd purchased a half gallon.

I guess the customer service woman I spoke with on the phone just assumed I'd taken the full plunge. Anyway, my favorite Kiwi saying still applies: good on them.

And on a much less detail-oriented note, I've decided what to write about in my next column. See this site tomorrow for the spine-tingling announcement!

Choco Caramel CupS

A little slice of life from Forksville:
On a recent trip to the supermarket, my ice cream craving coincided with a sale on a new brand at the store--Denali. Apparently, this Michigan company, owned by the (spelling-challenged) Wally and June Blume, originated the now ubiquitous Moose Tracks flavor.

Anyway, after spending waaay too long deciding between Tundra Nut Sundae and Caramel something or other, I went with the former, mostly due to the promise of "chewy choco caramel cups." After plowing through the pint in two sittings, I found one such cup.

The ice cream itself was luscious, but the use of the plural on the packaging clearly promised more than one caramel cup. Fortunately, the carton also pledged “Your complete satisfaction guaranteed or your money back” and gave a phone number.

For those who know me, it should come as no surprise that I called. What was startling was their response. A friendly woman (what’s the feminine form of avuncular?) apologized for the problem and promised to send me some coupons.

Two days later, I got a letter from Hunter Farms, the North Carolina-based distributor of the Alaskan-named Michigan company. In it, they apologized for “any inconvenience this incident might have caused you and your family.” I felt a bit sheepish there. It’s not like the ice cream made me late for work or I found something squirming in my pint.

Moving on, I was excited to find three coupons for free pints and a $5 supermarket gift card (a very generous estimate of a refund.) They had me at coupon.

The moral of the story is that the art of customer service isn’t entirely lost. Some companies do ‘the right thing’ and then some. Another lesson: sometimes you have to spend $1.50 (on sale from $1.99) to get $5 and three free pints of ice cream.

On to the Moose Tracks.

Only in America

Bored on a recent flight, I opened up the in-flight shopping guide. Flipping through the usual mix of fogless mirrors and other useless contraptions, I stopped on the Popup Hot Dog Cooker.

Now I enjoy a good hot dog (Nathan’s) once in while, but this item is just silly. I recognize that it would be fun to push down two cold dogs and buns and have them pop up cooked. But taking a step back, who wants a toasted hot dog? There's a reason you broil, boil, grill or even use this device, but never toast hot dogs.

Another thought: who is eating hot dogs so often they need a dedicated appliance? If Hammacher Schlemmer ever did a TV ad for this gem, it'd feature plenty of hefty bachelors. But seriously, men, do you have the counter space for this? Where will you put the egg poaching toaster?

Did I mention this thing costs $50? I guess when you're eating hot dogs frequently enough to warrant this device, you have some disposable income.