A Hint from Helen for Husbands

The man who decides to save his wife the trip and does the grocery shopping for her is a dear, a darling, a considerate, a thoughtful, a wonderful husband.

But if ye would be perfect – Helen assumes this to be the case – check with your wife first. Get a list from her and, with rare exceptions, stick to it. Do not make your shopping a surprise, because the surprise may be on you.

You go to the fruit and vegetable man and you buy:

10 tomatoes, because they are your favorites
10 bananas, because they are her favorites
a kilo of green beans because the ones you had last week were so great
a cantaloupe
8 red peppers to roast in the oven
8 navel oranges
a bag of onions.

You manfully pass up your other favorite, cherries, hoping the price will come down some.

You pay your 6 Euros and bring the goodies home, only to discover that your wife has also been to the same fruit and vegetable man (Does he even know you’re married to each other?) and she has already bought:

5 tomatoes to add to the 3 she already had
6 bananas because they are her favorite
half a kilo of green beans, because the ones you had last week were so great
6 peppers, already roasting in the oven
6 navel oranges
a bag of onions
2 baking potatoes
a half kilo of cherries because they are your favorite

So now youhave 18 tomatoes, 16 bananas, 14 peppers, 14 navel oranges, two bags of onions, 5 pounds of green beans, a half kilo of cherries, a cantaloupe, potatoes, and there’s still the mousmouli to eat up; see below.


Mousmouli

That’s pronounced “moose-MOO-lee”. What is it? Darned if I know. Some sort of fruit that grows on trees. George, the carpenter, brought us a small bag of them this morning; they are from his own tree in his village. (No, he hasn’t yet installed our new kitchen counter/drawers/sink because he hasn’t yet received the laminate to put on the top. But it’s otherwise all built and should be ready in two or three more days. He measured a few things a few more times while he was here, and put the new knobs on the upper cabinets.)

Mousmouli. It’s a fruit about the size and shape and color of an apricot, but with smooth skin, not fuzzy. Its texture is like a grape. It looks fairly appetizing, and people do eat it plain. But it is very sour, rather like eating a raw cranberry.

Okay, well, we know what to do with cranberries, don’t we? Boil them with a little orange juice and a little water and a lot of sugar. Oh, and that tangerine liqueur might be good in the mix; it isn’t fit for anything else, heaven knows. Maybe a hint of nutmeg. Yes, and another hint of cinnamon…there! Delicious! It doesn’t congeal like cranberry sauce, but if you wanted to, you could add a little flour or cornstarch. Hmm, and with a little butter, we could have a delicious pie! Rather like rhubarb pie, perhaps. Meanwhile, the stuff I boiled up will make a great ice cream topping. Will go buy some ice cream later today from the corner shop.

“Look what I made with the mousmouli!” I said, delightedly, to Demetrios. “Have a taste; it’s wonderful!”

Another hint for husbands from Helen: It is not prudent to ask, “Did you remove the pits?”

UPDATE: I got the name of the fruit wrong. It's mousmoula, pronounced, "MOOSE-moo-lah."