“Kumquats” is a hillarious word. Say it! Now say it again and again. Right? Funny! Until last week, I had never tasted one, but my younger sister raves about them. I knew what they looked like, but I don’t ever remember seeing one in my grocery. Last Sunday, I spotted a carton and tossed it into the cart. I had no idea what to expect, but I love fruits. How could this go wrong? I drove home actually anticipating that carton of mysterious fruit. Before I could get the cold foods put away, I popped open the carton and started my Kumquat pondering.
Hmm. Looks like an orange. Sort of smells like an orange. Has the peel of an orange. Do I peel it? No. That can’t be possible. Way too much work. There’s no way my sister would love them if it required that much work. You must have to just pop them in and bite. Here’s goes.
Wowzars. That’s more sour than a lemon. And that peel pretty much taste like an orange. Who wants to eat an orange peel? Not this gal!
I got on the phone and asked for her kumquat expertise. Some are sweeter than others. Yes, you eat the whole thing. I swear, they are addictive.
Cooper loves to eat lemons. Always has. Eats the entire wedge: peel and all. His Mimi eats the entire lemon, so maybe it’s genetic. I figured he’d be ripe for kumquat adoration. I explained the situation and he quickly popped one in. His face scrunched up and he jumped around the kitchen. The hard contrast threw him for a fruit loop and he decided that kumquats weren’t his thing. A friend was over for dinner and we made a good dent in the kumquat carton. My sister was right. Once you got used to them, they were addictive. You shouldn’t like them but you can’t stop loving them. We also made our three year-olds try one. Both spit them out immediately. Remember how funny it was when you gave your baby a lemon and they made that squishy face (everyone but Cooper)? That reaction is even funnier when it comes from a three year-old. Trust us.
Tonight and unprompted, Cooper wanted to help me finish the carton. I figured I’d photograph it.
Still sour. Still funny. But this time he loved them. Next step, he wanted Becks’ reaction. But Becks was on to us. Cooper swore it was just a tiny orange even went as far to pull it out of our bowl that holds oranges. But Becks knew that we and the kumquat could not be trusted. So Cooper and I finished the rest of the carton. And before he went to bed, he asked for me to add kumquats to the shopping list. Gladly, kiddo. Now if we could just get Daddy to eat one… If I can find enough cartons, I’m going to test this candied version on Dad and Becks. I’m pretty sure no one will be able to resist this gussied-up version of fruit. Kumquats might bring this house to war.