2019-09-01 Woolworths Taste

WhileI amnolongerluckyenough

togetavocadosforfreefrommy

grandfather’stree,thepriceI payforthem

hereinNairobiis negligible.Thekiosks

nearmyhomeallsellanavocadoforthe

equivalentofR4each.I havelearnthow

totestthefruitsothatI don’tendupwith

moreoftheseedthantheedibleflesh.

Nowadays,they’rea favouriteingredient

inmyspringandsummersalads.I usually

keepit simple,intheformofa green

saladwithcucumber,lettuceandonion.

My14-year-oldson,Hintsa,is a littlemore

experimental– hissaladcontainsshrimp

fromthefishshoparoundthecorner,

tomatoes,cucumberandonions.Wetop

bothsaladswitha lemon,vinegar,honey

andmustarddressing.

I havea goodfriendwhocan’tstand

avocadosbecausehegrewupeating

thema lotinThohoyandouasa child.

WhenI reminisceaboutmychildhood

andmyfavouritefruit,I sometimes

wonderwhetherI, too,wouldhavetired

oftheavocadohadourtreeproduced

fruitthroughoutmychildhood.Perhaps

myappreciationstemsfromhavingfirst

eatenit whenmytasteforfinerfoodswas

morerefinedandI couldappreciatemy

grandfather’sguacamole?I havenever

beenabletogivemyselfa definitive

answeronthisone.AllI knowis thata

weekwithoutavocadoinmyhousehold

feelslikea verybadweek.W

Zukiswa Wanner is a Zambian-born South African

journalist and award-winning author based

in Nairobi. Her novels include London Cape Town

Joburg (2014). PORTRAIT

FUNGAI MACHIRORI

PHOTOGRAPH

JAN RAS

PRODUCTION

ALETTA LINTVELT

AND

JACQUELINE BURGESS

M

y grandparentstoldmetheavocado
treehadbeentheresincethebirth
of their last child, my aunt Agnes, who was
nine years older than me. In a yard full of
fruitful trees at their home in Masvingo,
Zimbabwe, it was the only one that had
never borne fruit. Back then, they said the
only reason why they didn’t cut it down
was because it gave some lovely shade.
And that it did. On hot afternoons, the
adults would sit under that tree shelling
peanuts while one of them pounded
roasted sorghum and we children drank
marhewu. If trees were human, the
avocado tree would have seen
our appreciation of its shade.

It would also have heard

theadults and children

shaming it for not being as

abundant as the two guava

treesnear the dining room

thatproduced big pink-and-

whiteguavas without fail

everyseason. The avocado

treewould also have hung

itshead in shame for not

beingas consistent as the

wildfigtree growing 200

metresaway from the

hutthat my grandparents

usedasa kitchen. It gave

usthesweetest figs I

haveever tasted. Or the

naartjietree that gave juicy,

sweetnaartjies that my

grandmother once tasked

metosell at church one

Sundayafter Mass. But

I finished eating them

beforeMass had even begun.

Ormaybe the avocado

treecould, in fact, hear us in

ourcriticism, because when

I was13, it finally decided to

surpriseus with a harvest

ofbig,delicious avocados.

Mygrandfather, a former

cheffortheCatholic priests, introduced

metoguacamole.Except I did not

know it by that name back then, and I’m

not sure he did either. His guacamole

had just the right balance of tomatoes,

onions, salt, a few fresh red chillies and

some lemon juice. In our home, we ate

it in a way that I don’t think anyone else

had ever thought of – in a vetkoek sliced

in half and washed down with milky

leaf tea for breakfast. Sometimes, we

would simply eat our avocados seasoned

with salt. What I have never been able

to understand, though, is friends who

consume this heavenly fruit sprinkled

with sugar.

“A week

without

avocado in

my household

feels like a very

bad week”

60 TASTE SEPTEMBER 2019 TEXT ZUKISWA WANNER

TASTES LIKE MORE

Novelist Zukiswa Wanner’s love of avocado goes back to the fruit trees of her childhood

andtohergrandfather'sguacamole, which they ate on vetkoek

The avocado tree