Remembering the jackfruit season of the old days

Jackfruit is available year-round now. It's even rarer to see the whole family gathered around, eagerly watching Mom cut open a jackfruit. In the summer, markets and supermarkets are overflowing with all kinds of fruit: mangoes, jackfruit, plums, pineapples, sapodillas, mangosteens, durians… Sometimes, as I wander around the fruit stalls, I don't know what to choose because they're all so delicious. A row of jackfruit trees, their sweet fragrance filling a corner of the market. The jackfruit is already cut, each segment plump, golden yellow, and oozing with juice – just looking at it makes you crave it. I buy a piece of jackfruit for forty thousand dong for the whole family to enjoy.

I remember back then, at the beginning of jackfruit season, my aunt brought a jackfruit to my mother in the city. Early-season jackfruits weren't very big, the thorns weren't evenly spaced, and although they were heavy and made a thudding sound when tapped, they were slightly dented. Knowing my mother liked jackfruit from our garden, my aunt brought some to her as a little taste of home. The children eagerly awaited Grandma's cutting of the jackfruit. Some spread newspaper on the floor, others held stacks of newspaper to give to Grandma as she cut, wiping the sap off as she went. Some even thoughtfully prepared rags dipped in kerosene for Grandma to wipe her hands and knife clean of the sap. Looking at the eager eyes of the grandchildren intently watching Grandma's cutting, I knew my aunt had gone to great lengths to bring this gift from the countryside, a gift that required more effort than material gain!

The jackfruit wasn't very good. The coconut-flavored variety had thick segments, crunchy but not very sweet. The children were initially excited, but after a few segments, they were bored. My mother then had a chance to tell old stories: "This jackfruit tree is as old as your mother. When your great-grandfather planted it, your mother was still in your grandmother's womb, kicking and trying to come out." I lingered with my mother, peeling each segment, removing the seeds, and arranging them in a container in the refrigerator. But if something wasn't good, after a few openings and closings of the refrigerator door, a few bites and it was all gone.

After the segments were gone, the children meticulously picked up the seeds. My youngest daughter gathered the jackfruit seeds and put them in a small basket. She said, "Grandma, boil some for me to eat, I love jackfruit seeds!" The whole family was a little surprised! Back then, I had never boiled jackfruit seeds for my children. Whenever I craved them, I would just buy a small piece, not many seeds, peel the segments, and throw the rest in the trash. My mother nostalgically asked her, "When did you eat jackfruit seeds that you know they're delicious?" "The other day, my friend Xi gave me a boiled jackfruit seed, and it was so good!"

Hearing my child's words fills me with sorrow! In the long flow of time, we've unintentionally forgotten those tiny jackfruit seeds, yet they held a whole sky of childhood memories—poor but joyful, lacking material things but full of spirit. A few jackfruit seeds roasted over glowing coals, siblings fighting over them, sometimes leading to beatings. Waking up in the afternoon nap to find a basket of boiled jackfruit seeds and a jar of sugar on the table, we were overjoyed. And yet now, amidst countless other cakes and pastries, my child still craves boiled jackfruit seeds.

My mother heard that her grandchild was craving jackfruit seeds, so she quickly washed them and boiled a whole pot for him. She even went to the shop to buy a packet of large-grained yellow sugar so he could enjoy the authentic taste of the old days! While peeling the jackfruit seeds for her grandchild, my mother recounted stories from the past: “In those poor times, we ate every last bit of jackfruit. The seeds could be stewed with fish sauce and lard; the fibrous parts could be used to stew fish…”

My mother could talk all day about the jackfruit seasons of her childhood. I also had very peaceful jackfruit seasons like that. The jackfruit season is intertwined with everyone's childhood. It's the season of school days, the season of flamboyant trees, the sound of cicadas, the season of carefree days... How I miss those seasons of ripe jackfruit, with its fragrant, golden, nectar-filled segments...

KIM DUY

Source: https://baokhanhhoa.vn/van-hoa/sang-tac/202409/nho-mua-mit-ngay-xua-dbc42c4/