Democratic Sentinel, Volume 22, Number 12, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 March 1898 — ARE PAWPAWS GOOD? [ARTICLE]

ARE PAWPAWS GOOD?

The Head of the House Is Disappointed Over Hie Experiment, Whenever you find in the city an old man who was born in the country, and passed his boyhood days on a farm, you are likely to find a man who has fond recollection of the free and easy life he spent in fall days, when nuts and pawpaws w’ere ripe. If he sees a few of the custard apples displayed at a fruit stand, he wants them. Of course they don’t taste just as they did when he was a barefooted boy, but they make him think of his youth and his days on the old farm. A mau of this kind saw some pawpaws a few days ago on a stand, of course he bought some. He was on his way home, and for the first time he Introduced the fruit into the home circle. It created some excitement, and every one tried the Ohio banana. Now there is one thing to be said of a pawpaw, and that Is, if it is ■well frosted and just beginning to turn black, It is not so bad, but if it is pulled green—as many of them are —It is not fit for a hog to eat. And these were of that class. The old man bit into one and made a stagger at eating it, though he acknowledged that it didn’t taste like the fruit he had gathered by the bushel when he was a boy. The family rather ridiculed his explanation that they were not ripe, etc. His boy said: “Say, father, honestly, did you ever like them mushy yellow things and think they were good. If you did youmust have been very hungry.” “But these are not frosted, and that’s what’s the matter with them. They’re splendid when they’ve been blackened by frost.” “Oh,” said his wife, “I expect you’ll say next that they ought to be cooked or scalded, or something, to excuse yourself for all the praise you’ve given the nasty thing for years and years.” “Well, whether you like them or not, they’re just as good an bananas, and all of you rave over them. Walt till frost comes and I’ll get you some that will make you think the banana is poor eating.” “Now, father,” said the daughter, “own up. You don’t like them yourself. When you wete a boy on the farm you had a ravenous appetite, and of course, after traveling miles and miles anything tasted good. That’s the way with those nasty pawpaws. You know they don’t taste good, and, even if they were frozen, they wouldn’t be much better. I guess you had better throw them away.” “Indeed, I’ll not,” he sajd. “I’ll put them on the porch .roof, and you’ll own up after- a while that they’re good.” And now the family is waiting patiently for the hard frost that it may taste a pawpaw at its best. But it’s doubtful if they will like them, even then, for the taste is one of the acquired kind.