Olive Knitting

So the other day I had a hankering for grapefruit.  I like grapefruit.  It reminds me of breadfasts when I was a kid with my grandma Sally on the farm.  Grandma Sally was a dairy farmer in Wisconsin.  I don't want to mislead you by saying grapefruit and farm in the same sentence which could imply that the grapefruit came from the farm.  They did not.   Sally and Wilbur grew milk, not fruit.  That I mentioned the farm has nothing to do with grapefruit except the fact that I ate them there....halved, with sugar, and a sharp spoon.

Anyway...

I was in the supermarket the other day and found myself in front of the citrus display.  Damn if I didn't find a grapefruit weighing in at about a kilo (2.2 lbs - big ass grapefruit).  It was so big that it came wrapped in its own individual mesh bag.  Seriously a breakfast for champions, I thought.

I thought that until I got it home and notice that the tag on its individual mesh bag read "pomelo".  A pomelo is not a grapefruit.  Well, maybe technically it is, but, well you know what I mean -  I didn't get what I thought I was getting.   Grapefruit in italian is pompelmo.  Easy mistake. 'Specially if you ignore that its size would have made it a mutant grapefruit.

That puppy sat on the counter for a couple weeks 'til last night when I made stir fry.  I like putting different fruit juices in my stir fry...enter the pomelo.  I cut it in half, and then half of a half.  I squeezed some of its juice in my dinner and added some of its chunks.

Any of you ever had a pomelo?  Not a grapefruit.  Wikipedia says a pomelo should be sweeter than a grapefruit.  Well, I don't know about that but I do know that the one I put in my mouth last night tasted like I was sucking on a penny...and about as soft.  Perhaps it just wasn't ripe yet.  Or maybe I should have just sprinkled it with sugar and got a sharp spoon.