Loquat Love

I first encountered the loquat on a study tour in Palestine. Our lunches consisted of pita bread, canned meat and mayonnaise, peanut butter and jelly (true gelatinous jelly--strawberry or grape), canned green olives, and a plethora of these fuzzy little fruits I learned were loquats. Usually I was so hungry this lunch fare did not bother me too much. In fact, I liked the mayo-meat and the pitas. It was during those lunches I learned to love the green olive and the strange, fuzzy, mildly difficult loquat.

They have a charm to them. They are thin-skinned and fuzzy like a peach, and peel just as easliy. Their seeds are large, slick, and dark. The fruit is fragrant and sweet but scant, meaning you have to work to get a mouthful. Loquats are the spring equivalent to the persimmon. They smell and taste like spring (like persimmons smell like fall, all spice and honey), a rising warmth out of coolness, perfect tang as a perfectly ripe pineapple, but closer in flavor to the apricot, quince, and Rainier cherry with with floral overtones and a lingering finish.

Loquat from the farmers' market, the color of...?

Loquat I picked on my own, more cantaloupe-colored.

The name loquat has Chinese roots (their only connection to the citrus fruit kumquat) and means little plum. The trees grow in warm, dry climates like the Mediterranean region, southeastern China, and where I live in California's Central Valley. They ripen over the winter and are ready to pick sometime in the spring. Like right now.

Loquat tree ladened with fruit.

As I mentioned last post, I found a bunch of loquats at the farmers' market in the little green baskets you might get strawberries. I was so thrilled throughout the week, and so sad I didn't have more that I searched around a little and found someone advertising for free loquats. So now I have a five gallon bucket full of gorgeous, canteloupe-colored loquats. Actually, they are now waiting for me in the fridge. Unfortunately, they bruise easily, and we had rather physical time getting the delicate fruit down, so we've lost a few. But there is so much still! And so many possibilities!

Many Californians do not utilize the lovely loquat. They are planted as ornamental trees and the fruit is sometimes just left to fall and rot. But there is much to do with a loquat! They apparently make fabulous chutney, though I have yet to experiment. I have found recipes for loquat wine, liqueur, sauce, jam, jelly, pie, compote, and cobbler. I even found a recipe to utilize those huge, weird seeds in a seed liqueur. I took the California route and made salsa. I have been craving some fruit salsa and spring onions are in such abundance I thought it might be nice to have a local salsa in late spring, early summer, even if the pepper is greenhouse grown.



Loquat Salsa

I am having this salsa with grilled fish tonight, but it would lovely over fish tacos, grilled chicken, mixed with black beans and eaten as a salad, or just scooped out with corn chips and eaten like a good salsa is eaten--with a smile and a nice, cold beer.

4 spring green onions, finely chopped
juice of 2 limes
2 tablespoons neutral-flavored oil
1 teaspoon honey
1/2 - whole anaheim pepper
2 tablespoons cilantro, finely chopped
1/2 teaspoon sea salt (or more, to taste)
up to a half a poblano pepper, finely minced (optional, for extra heat)

4 cups unbruised, ripe loquats
juice of 1/2 lemon

Combine the first group of ingredients. Let sit while you prepare the loquats.

Peel and seed the loquats and combine with the lemon juice to keep them from browning too badly. (Because they do brown so easily!) Chop roughly and irregularly to get small bits and larger chunks, tossing chopped fruit in with the other ingredients. Stir both the lemon juiced loquats and the developing salsa periodically to help recover with lemon/lime juices. When you have finished the chopping, stir the salsa well and taste. More salt? Add a large pinch at a time. More sweet? Add a drizzle of honey at a time. Store well-covered in the refrigerator. Serve with above mentioned meats, beans, chips, or whatever strikes your salsa fancy. Enjoy!