by Adam Gollner
People consumed fruits in beverage form. In the United States, the majority of fruits were used for cider, perry or mobby (peach brandy). Because drinking water was viewed as unsafe, fruit booze was what everyone drank. Sir John Fontescue has pointed out that the English were always drunk; they drank no water, except for religious purposes. As U. P. Hendrick wrote, “fruit growing in America had its beginning and for two hundred years had almost its whole sustenance in the demand for stirring drink.” Historians have long noted that it was a radical shift for Americans to begin eating their fruit rather than drinking it. Only among the affluent were high-quality fresh fruits appreciated. Washington, Jefferson and other landowning plutocrats respected fruits, discussed varieties in postprandial chitchat, and owned slaves that tended their orchards. They were “gentleman farmers,” men of independent means who farmed for pleasure, as opposed to the vast majority of farmers who produced food as a means of survival.
Until the industrial revolution, the North American population was predominantly rural. People grew their own food. There was little fresh fruit in the summer, and none in the winter. City dwellers had even fewer fruits. Those that were sold took so long to get to the city that they were often decomposing by the time they arrived.
As colonial conquests coughed up stimulants like coffee, tea and chocolate, a hungry urban labor class emerged, its gaping maw clamoring for calories. The price of sugar fell, making fruit-based preservatives, jams and marmalades more widely available. In the nineteenth century, writes Laura Mason in Sugar-Plums and Sherbet, fruit-flavored candy was “seen as an affordable substitute for fruit, at least by the poor.” The convenience of cheap sugar-infused fruits facilitated our communal beguiling at the hands of artifice: we never had the real stuff to begin with.
Today most of the products on our supermarket candy racks are fruit imitations or derivatives: Swedish Berries, Jolly Ranchers and Skittles. Chocolate, as Jaitt pointed out, comes from the cacao fruit. Bubble gum used to come from chicle, the latex of the sapodilla tree, also known for its sweet chico fruits.
Aztecs had been chewing chicle long before the Europeans arrived. In the early twentieth century, American gum manufacturers hired thousands of South American bubble gum harvesters, called chicleros, to gather the sapodilla’s sap. This industry died out after WWII with the introduction of petrochemical ingredients. Today, gum is made with a plastic oil derivative called PVA (polyvinyl acetate).
The advent of canning in 1809 furthered the availability of fruits. And even though the taste was a tad metallic, the innovation allowed fruits to be eaten year-round. In the mid-1800s, American authors like A. J. Downing chided farmers into growing edible fruits: “He who owns a rood of proper land in this country, and, in the face of all the pomonal riches of the day, only raises crabs and choke-pears, deserves to lose the respect of all sensible men.” But as late as 1869, P. T. Quinn noted that fine fruits “are a luxury that can only be indulged in by the wealthier classes.” It was around this time that better-tasting fruits started being cultivated on a wider scale in America. But there was still no way to ship these fruits to the expanding urban populations.
The shift from horse and buggy to locomotives facilitated fruit transportation, but farmers then found themselves needing to produce fruits that could survive long-distance shipping. The preeminent Georgia peach was the Elberta, sufficiently firm to make it to New York City without turning to gooey mush. Henry Ford’s assembly line became the model for production. The advent of refrigeration, supermarkets and family automobiles abetted the urban availability of fruits—although taste quality suffered. An influx of 7 million Italians (mainly in between 1880 and 1921) also had a major impact on American eating habits and agriculture. Their love of produce was contagious.
Until the twentieth century, much fruit in Britain rotted on the trees. Adding to the fruitlessness was England’s damp climate, unsuitable for drying fruits in the sun. In the 1890s, the apple became Britain’s national fruit. The government started an “Eat more fruit” campaign. Although eating citrus was known to prevent scurvy, tens of thousands of soldiers succumbed to the disease as late as the 1910s.
The conclusive discovery of vitamins around the time of WWI marked a decisive shift toward considering raw fruits not only as beneficial, but as necessary. Still, fresh fruits disappeared during the twentieth century’s world wars. Canadian families received rations of “raspberry” jam: it was, in fact, sweetened turnips dotted with wood chips to simulate the seeds. Matisse said that fruits were “more expensive than a beautiful woman” during wartime. Grapefruit only caught on in America after the Great Depression, because they could be exchanged for food stamps. Even then, people thought they needed to be boiled for hours before being eaten.
At the end of WWII, the British government allocated one banana to every child. Evelyn Waugh’s three children were giddy with excitement on the great day their bananas arrived. As Auberon Waugh recalls in Will This Do? their joy was short-lived: the bananas “were put on my father’s plate, and before the anguished eyes of his children, he poured on cream, which was almost unprocurable, and sugar, which was heavily rationed, and ate all three … He was permanently marked down in my estimation from that moment on, in a way which no amount of sexual transgression would have achieved.”
Since the postwar era, fruits have enjoyed a spectacular boom, with new fruits continually appearing in supermarkets. Ted Hughes was twenty-five when he tasted his first fresh peach in London in 1955, the year he met Sylvia Plath. Kiwis arrived in the sixties. Mangoes and papayas turned up shortly thereafter. Fruits from South America, Asia, Africa, the Caribbean and the Middle East have been trickling into every one else’s diet as waves of immigration and travel have exposed Westerners to exotic delicacies. Fresh figs arrived in Montreal a few years ago. Until 2006, only 5 percent of Americans had ever tasted a pomegranate, but that number is changing rapidly.
The past half century has seen a surge in availability, despite decreased quality. This was, perhaps, a necessary transition. In many ways, we’re entering a golden age of fruits: never before have so many of us had access to such a wide range of fresh fruits, whether novelties or heirlooms. And the produce section will be getting even more interesting in coming years as innovative breeders and growers continue to focus on flavor and as shoppers rediscover seasonality. We’re only now starting to appreciate the vast diversity that surrounds us. Forget about just red or green grapes: there are around ten thousand grape cultivars worldwide. There are a hundred wild species of cherries, not including the thousands of cultivars selected over the years. There are 5,000 cataloged cultivars of pears. Over 1,200 cultivars of watermelon grow worldwide. There are over six hundred different types of dates. As we’ll see, there are manifold reasons why we haven’t as yet tasted these things. The point is: the world of fruits is always evolving.
THE WORD “FRUIT” comes from the Latin fruor, which means “to delight in,” and fructus, which means enjoyment, pleasure and gratification. When fruc- morphed into the Proto-Germanic bruk, it retained the connotation of “to have enjoyment of.” By the Middle Ages, however, the meaning depreciated to “digestible,” and by the sixteenth century it signified “tolerable.” Following the meandering stream of etymology, bruk became the English verb “to brook,” as in to endure. Although fruits today are certainly built to last, they have also managed to retain their earlier connotation of bestowing bliss.
William Carlos Williams wrote about “a solace of ripe plums” consoling a grieving old woman. For Cézanne, apples were a way of finding inner peace. “Comfort me with apples for I am sick with love,” pleaded Solomon in the Song of Songs. Fruits were part of Einstein’s simple formula for joy: “A table, a chair, a bowl of fruit and a violin; what else does a man need to be happy?” Seventeenth-century courtier Nicholas de Bonnefons dealt with stress by hanging out with fruit trees. He believed that fruits spread contentment: “One must confess that of all foods only fruits win the pr
ize for highest satisfaction.” In the Thousand and One Nights, bananas have a special appeal to mourning females: “Bananas … who dilate young girls’ eyes / Bananas! When you flow down our throats, you don’t collide into our organs ravished to feel you! / … And you alone, amongst all the fruits, are endowed with a sympathizing heart, O consoler of widows and divorcées!”
There are theories suggesting a link between diet and teenaged angst. Kids prescribed Ritalin for their attention deficit hyperactivity disorder show significant improvement when they start eating fruits for breakfast. Fructology is a system of fruit-based therapy that involves having your aura cleansed by a Life Fruit that corresponds to your astrological profile. The website www.thefruitpages.com tells of people who have conquered depression by eating fresh fruits on a regular basis. Andy Mariani, a San Jose orchardist who grows the best peaches in America, credits a nectarine given to him by his mother when he was dying from a debilitating autoimmune disease with giving him the will to survive.
The healing power of fruits is being substantiated by scientific research. Figs contain omega-3 and more polyphenols than wine or tea, citrus peel combats skin cancer, and kiwi fruits have blood-thinning properties similar to aspirin. Bananas relax us and alleviate depression thanks to tryptophan, a protein that increases serotonin levels. Cranberries are laden with phytochemicals that cure urinary infections and fight everything from kidney stones to cholesterol to ulcers. They also contain proanthocyanidins, called PACs, that surround harmful bacteria so they can’t stick to our insides.
The supermarket fruits we eat contain negligible traces of protein, carbohydrates, cholesterol, sodium or fat (except avocados). Some have moderate amounts of dietary fiber. Where fruits excel is in their high levels of vitamins and minerals. Plants, and all fruits, contain a variety of chemicals, called phytonutrients, that are essential to human health.
The best way to absorb these nutrients is by eating a rainbow of fruits daily. Colors indicate different benefits. Anything pink—like watermelons, pink grapefruit or cara cara oranges—contains lycopene, an antioxidant that neutralizes harmful free radicals. Reds and purples—blueberries, cherries, apple skin, blood oranges and pomegranates—are indicators of anthocyanins, a flavanoid shown in a 2007 study to destroy cancerous cells without affecting healthy human cells. Orange fruits—papayas, mangoes and peaches—contain carotenoids that protect against heart disease and muscular degeneration. Yellow and green fruits—avocados, green grapes and peas—signal the presence of lutein and zeaxanthin, vital to human eyes.
Apple growers concocted the catchphrase “an apple a day keeps the doctor away” as a marketing scheme in the beginning of the twentieth century. Research today seems to support the idea: apples clean lungs, reduce asthma and cancer risks, and studies say they are better than toothbrushes at getting rid of the bacteria in our mouths. The act of peeling apples activates and improves our brain functioning, counters dementia and stimulates our creative faculties. A Yale University investigation concluded that the smell of spiced apples can prevent panic attacks.
Our ancestors understood that fruits, as part of the forest pharmacopeia, were full of medicinal attributes. Eastern herbal remedies include many fruits barely known in the West. China’s melia fruits are used as painkillers. Sky fruits, from the Solomon Islands, help blood circulation and kidney function. A recent Bulgarian study of two hundred men suffering from impotence demonstrated that the dried fruits of Tribulus terrestris increase sperm production and motility.
Increasingly, the pharmaceutical industry is trying to understand fruits’ medical properties. Black mulberries contain deoxynojirimycin, a chemical that combats HIV. Mars chocolates have launched a new line of medical products using cocoa to treat diabetes, strokes and vascular disease. Grapefruit, it’s been revealed, can disrupt a variety of medications including antidepressants and high-blood pressure pills. Anise fruit’s carminative properties earned it the name tut-te see-hau—meaning “it expels the wind”—among certain Native American tribes. It is also antiseptic, antispasmodic, soporific and a few seeds taken with water can cure hiccups.
We’re all supposed to have a minimum of five fruit servings a day, ideally more. American per capita consumption limps around 1.4 servings per day. Potatoes and iceberg lettuce account for one third of all vegetables sold in North America because of their role in fast food.
Income directly affects the amount of fruits we eat. The more we have, the more we understand the complexities of health, and hence we turn to fresh produce. Affluence leads to diversified fruit consumption. On the other hand, fruits, while cheaper than cigarettes or alcohol, are too expensive for people on subsistence diets. Although bananas and oranges are certainly affordable, you can live without them. Very little fresh fruit has been available at restaurants, especially fast food restaurants, but now Apple Dippers are becoming the norm.
Fruits today play an integral role in preventative, wellness medicine. We seem to think that we’re only now realizing how important fruits are, but in many cases we’re only now rediscovering lost wisdom. As Hippocrates said, in one of the earliest of all recorded aphorisms, “Let food be your medicine and medicine be your food.”
FRUITS HAVE INSPIRED countless innovations. Humankind’s first ever work of art is believed to be a piece of carved silica in the form of an almond, or a seed, dating back two or three hundred thousand years to the lower Paleolithic. The Sumerians invented writing to document grain and fruit trades: the earliest cuneiform tablets were accounting records for agricultural administrators. Words like logos (meaning “word,” “language” or “reason”), legere (“reading”), lex (“law”) initially referred to things collected in forests, such as acorns. The first prose text in Latin was Cato’s De Re Rustica, which talked about growing fruits near cities. Wheels came about as a way of transporting fruits with ox-drawn carts. Mulberries were the reason that humans invented paper, silk and forks. (Paper was initially derived from mulberry trees, without which silkworms couldn’t spin their magic, and the berries were too messy to eat by hand—the way we ate everything else—so tines came about.) Our first bowls and containers were the fruits of the Crescentia cujete, otherwise known as bottle gourds or calabashes (which played a crucial role in the birth of agriculture in the Americas). The burrs on burdock fruits that get stuck in clothes provided the inspiration for Swiss engineer Georges de Mestral to create Velcro.
According to Greek mythology, the earliest musical instrument—the lute—was invented by Apollo, who carved it out of a melon slice. Initially, many musical instruments were made out of fruits. African gourds were fashioned into string and percussion instruments. Music stores still sell items like totumo fruit gourds, lacquered fruit maracas and seed-rattler anklets. Some of the first guitars and violins in the United States were slave-made stringed gourds. Humans have been singing about fruits since at least 1000 B.C., according to the Shi Jing, an ancient Chinese songbook that mentions seventeen varieties.
Fruits were pivotal in a number of scientific discoveries. We owe gravity to apples. Darwin’s theory of natural selection was confirmed by his experiments with gooseberries. Robert H. Goddard was sitting in a cherry tree at age sixteen when he was struck with a vision of creating a device that could fly to Mars. He went on to become one of the fathers of modern rocketry.
We’ve used fruits in countless creams, cosmetics and cleansers. The illipe nut is used in lip balms. Avocado skin is used as a facial rub. Shea butter, used in ointments and lotions, comes from the fruit of the African karite tree. American beauty-berries, which are the violet color of Elizabeth Taylor’s eyes, contain chemical compounds that can be used as insect repellent.
The lipstick tree of South America produces red nuggets called achiote that were formerly used as body paint. Today, these seeds are used as a dye called annatto that colors everything from butter to salad oils. Red carmine dye, or cochineal, comes from the pulverized corpses of small-scale insects that turn red after eating cac
tus fruits. Numerous other fruits also produce tannins used in paints, dyes and other coloring agents.
Fruits could replace many toxic cleaning products (most of which contain artificial scents like “fresh citrus”). Kaffir limes are used to wash hair in Bali. Jamaicans clean floors with orange halves. My Parisian friends do their laundry using soap nuts, the dried fruit of the Chinese soapberry tree (Sapindus mukorrosi). These berries contain saponin, a natural steroid that turns frothy and bubbly in water. I tried it: my laundry came out clean and smelling great.
Obscurely inspired, we’ve even used fruits as contraceptives. In medieval Europe, lemons were believed to neuter sperm the way citrus curdles milk. Casanova wrote of using hollowed out half-lemons as contraceptive diaphragms. Ancient Egyptians used orange halves in the same way, as do some misinformed modern teenagers. Unripe papayas can allegedly induce miscarriages and have been used in traditional societies as morning-after pills. In the sixteenth century, melons were prescribed to dampen sexual appetites. Herbalists from that period also claimed that medlars stay women’s longings.
Our behavior toward certain fruits—so lusty, so full of desire, so fetishistic—stems from reproductive, survivalist instincts lodged deep within our subconscious. The fruits themselves encourage us by having evolved peculiarities that we respond to viscerally. And some people, I’m about to learn, have evolved their own peculiar ways of relating to fruits.
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The Rare Fruit Council International
The sections of tangerine are gone, and I cannot tell you why they are so magical … there must be some one, though, who knows what I mean.
—M. F. K. Fisher, Serve It Forth