Cantaloupes

In the Asian culture, it’s common practice to give fruit as gifts. And I’m not talking about pretty Harry and David gift boxes or fancy pre-packaged fruit baskets – I’m talking about fruit on sale from your local grocery store packaged in the same plastic bag that would have lined your trashcan if it weren’t being used to carry a gift.

Growing up, I watched my parents visit friends and family bearing bags full of crisp, juicy Asian pears, Fuji apples or sometimes meaty loquats plucked fresh off of my aunt’s tree down the street. Many times after having dinner at the Fiancee’s home, my future mother-in-law would rummage through her basket of fresh fruit, placing her best white peaches, mangoes or oranges into a plastic grocery bag for me to take home to my mom. In turn, my mother would fill a plastic bag full of golden kiwis or giant apples and hand them to my Fiancee to bring back to his mother after having dropped me off home.

More formal occasions might call for crates of fruit rather than plastic bags. I once bumped into an old childhood friend at a Korean grocery store after having not seen her for about five years. When I asked what she was doing there, she answered that she was headed out to a graduation ceremony and, nodding toward the crates of Asian pears, white peaches and golden kiwis, wanted to pick up some fruit as a graduation gift. Another time, an old coworker brought crates of mandarin oranges on her last day of work as a parting gift.

So despite growing up in America, where your host may seem baffled or even insulted at receiving plastic bags of fruit, I’m familiar with the custom, but know to keep it within my Asian circle. Otherwise, I know to bring a bottle of wine or a nicely packaged dessert.

A few weeks ago, the Fiancee and I were doing our usual weekend grocery shopping at the local Pathmark where sweet, juicy cantaloupes were on sale. Knowing that I’d end up having to scoop up a rotten mess from the kitchen floor if we bought more than we could finish, I limited the Fiancee to two cantaloupes only. About five minutes later, I found the Fiancee wheeling a cart holding four cantaloupes.

Hey, I thought I said two only. You know these are just going to rot!

Oh, I know. I picked up two extra for our friends upstairs.

Oh, alright.

I decided not to question the Fiancee any further as long as only two of those cantaloupes were for us.

Back at home unloading groceries, I noticed a plastic grocery bag holding two cantaloupes with a note taped to it saying, “From [Fiancee]”.

Hey, did our friends ask you to pick these up for them?

No. I just wanted to give them some fruit for all of the times last week that they drove me home because of the snowstorms.

You’re giving them cantaloupes in a plastic bag as a gift?

Yeah, who doesn’t love fruit?

But they’re not Asian. I don’t think they’ll understand. They might not know what this is. You’re just going to leave a bag of fruit from Pathmark on their doorstep with a post it saying nothing more than it’s from you?

Of course they’ll get it! Why wouldn’t they appreciate this? It’s fruit. Who doesn’t love fruit?

Not wanting to insult the Fiancee’s gift any further, I let him run upstairs and drop the bag of cantaloupes onto our friends’ doorstep. Meanwhile, I stood in the kitchen snickering at the memory of all of the perplexed non-Asian faces of friends who’d once asked me to explain why so-and-so felt the urge to do a portion of their grocery shopping one week. Then I imagined how our upstairs friends might react:

We’re definitely switching back to FreshDirect.

(tripping) Damn neighbors keep dropping their bags on our doorstep!

Did we forget to do something?

The child in me wanted to run upstairs and hide behind a plant until our friends came home just to see the looks on their faces.