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Happy first day of Summer! No, it’s not June 20th, but level with me—Memorial Day is what really marks the beginning of the Summer season. It’s been hot as hell here in Detroit, and with the sun also relentlessly shining its bare ass in the sky, it kind of feels like I never left Los Angeles. But oh, I have, and these hot Summer days somberly remind me of that fact because there’s something I long for which I cannot have. It’s a spicy, salty, sweet, only-in-L.A. snack that my heart desires—a deli container full of seasoned tropical fruit.
When I think of Los Angeles, I instantly think of fruit.
That’s because people on street corners and sidewalks all over L.A. sell the stuff. These fruit carts, usually manned by a Hispanic gentleman and his cleaver, are synonymous with the city. Marked with rainbow umbrellas, the frutero’s juicy snack-wagon features a clear case with whole, peeled fruits stacked on ice. The twirly, pinwheel umbrellas attached to L.A. fruit carts are an off-the-record flag for the city. They call customers to purchase healthy refreshment, sure, but they also represent the fine people who built Los Angeles. It wasn’t on the backs of commercial actors, you know.
Not seeing the umbrellas anymore brings a sentimental tear to my eye. Patrick Kuh, a phenomenal writer in Southern California, wrote one of my favorite L.A. pieces ever on the subject for L.A. Taco:
To me, these umbrellas do far more than block the sun. They represent L.A. and its gorgeous, gritty soul. Clamped to a vendor’s cart, they announce that here, on this spot, at this corner, there’s freshly cut fruit jacked with salt and chile lime powder.
As I watch skilled hands slice the ripe produce, I feel close to the best of the city. The conversations are upbeat, usually about customizing an order—light on the jicama for me, thank you. The prep techniques vary slightly: Some vendors season the fruit directly on the cutting board; others layer the spices as they scoop everything up.
Alongside a freeway entrance or nestled near a busy bus stop, a frutero’s umbrella symbolizes the long hours vendors spend on their feet, toiling outdoors under an unforgiving sun, rolling with the ebb and flow of passers-by—the ones who always stop and the ones who never do—and putting up with everything else it takes just to serve up the pleasure that is a cup of freshly squeezed, lime juice-sluiced watermelon on a hot day.
For the uninitiated, at a fruit cart you’re generally asked to choose multiple fruits for slicing—these often include things like pineapple, watermelon, orange, honeydew, mango, and coconut. The frutero uses a big cleaver to swiftly chop each fruit into bite sized chunks, which are then swiped into a tall, plastic deli container. The customer is usually asked if they want salt, Tajín, lime juice, and chamoy (a fruity, acidic, saucy condiment.) Depending on the neighborhood you’re in, that cup can cost anywhere between 6 to 8 bucks.
Everybody has their own frutero. My guy was located just near the Fern Dell entrance to Griffith Park, on the corner near the stop light. I believe the cart’s name was Alfredo’s.
My fruit order? Pineapple, mango, and coconut with plenty of lime juice and Tajín. Here’s my reasoning: Pineapple for tropical sweetness, mango for fragrance and tenderness, and coconut for its unique, earthy flavor and texture. Lime juice and Tajín add a welcomed amount of citrus and salt. I also feel that chamoy and table salt are overkill after that, so I decline those. My personal fruit order is exactly what I like—tropical, sweet, salty, and bright. My heart aches for this bespoke* cup. This warm weather has me desperately wanting to sit on a hill in Griffith Park under the shade of tree, stab my chunks of salty fruit, and read a book.
I can’t do that, though, so I made my own, and I implore you to do the same. The Move this Summer? Become a Los Angeles frutero for you and your friends. Bring a big bowl of juicy, lime drenched, seasoned fruit to the next cookout or barbecue.
Slicing fruit is quite a joy. Peeling and trimming relaxes my mind; a sharp knife smoothly carving the skin from a mango is mesmerizing. I went down to Honeybee market in Mexicantown, Detroit to purchase my tropical fruits. Find your local Latin grocer, and indulge in a fruit cup this Summer. It’s just getting started.
*The Move’s bespoke counter: 1
Tropical Fruit with lime & Tajín
Ingredients:
1 whole pineapple
1 coconut
2 mangos
3 limes
1 tablespoon or more of Tajín
Instructions:
This is all slicing fruit. Easy peasy.
The biggest challenge here is opening a coconut. There’s plenty of methods to do it, and do it elegantly, but I’m missing some tools in my new apartment so I brutishly took a hammer and smashed my coconut outside. In the process, I lost most of the juice. That sucks, but for the sake of expediting this fruit cup, it was necessary.
Once the coconut is split in half, set your oven to 400 degrees, and throw it in there on a sheet tray for 10 minutes. Let it cool, and then using a pairing knife, wedge and split the coconut meat from its shell. It’ll look like this:
At this point, use a vegetable peeler or pairing knife to peel away the brown skin. You’ll be left with beautiful chunks of coconut meat which you can easily slice into thick, 1½ to 2 inch chunks. All of the fruit should be sliced thick.
I find slicing a pineapple to be relaxing and easy. Using a sharp knife, trim the pineapple’s crown off, then the bottom, and discard both. Sit your pineapple up straight on a cutting board, and it should sit flat. Now, using your knife, peel away the exterior, curving the knife to move along the skin. Be sure to trim away the spiky spots, which are called raphides.
You should be left left with a singular, yellow pineapple block. At this point, you can see the core in the center which looks off yellow and white. Trim all around it, then dice the pineapple meat into thick, oblong, 1½ to 2 inch chunks.
Mangos are all about proper incisions made around the core. The trendy cross section method of cubing mangos is good and fine, but you want your chunks to be bigger than that for a fruit cup. I cut around the core, then trim the mango into quarter planks. After using a pairing knife to skim away the skin, I slice those quarters in half again to achieve the proper chunk.
Finally, mix and layer the sliced fruit into a plastic deli container or bowl. Take your limes, and using a handheld lime juicer, squeeze those suckers good. L.A. fruit cups have a lot more lime juice and Tajín than you think, so be generous.
As Patrick Kuh stated in his article, some fruteros season their fruit directly on the cutting board before placing it in the container. This achieves a balanced, even flavor. At the Alfredo’s near Griffith, they season with lime & Tajín after the fruit sits in the cup. For nostalgia purposes, that’s what I did. Though, in the future, I’ll probably season everything on the cutting board for harmony and balanced flavor.
Thanks for reading The Move! This Thursday I’ll be covering the best things I ate in Detroit, and it’s a doozy. If you haven’t yet, please subscribe! Like and leave a comment, it helps get these posts traffic. Oh, and if you want, consider upgrading to paid. That would be extremely dope of you.