Or a cherry. Or a litchi.
Usually, by the time June rolls in, I've had my fill of mangoes and melons and am eagerly awaiting winter pears and lush oranges. But not this year.
For the past three weeks, I've been spoilt silly by the sheer mindboggling variety of fruits available in the markets. All of them my favorites. A single trip yesterday yielded bunches of perfectly sweet litchis, bright red cherries rarely seen in Bombay and fresh just-ripe apricots. If I'd wanted any more fruits, they had lovely peaches and plums. Bags full of green almonds have been around for more than a month now.
As my pal Bertie Wooster will say, this has been a rum summer for fruits. For once, I'm not complaining.