It all started with a doughnut.
A milk-chocolate and passionfruit doughnut, to be exact.
I’d had passionfruit before, but it never really crossed my mind. Maybe I knew it would be so hard to find and unconsciously avoided it.
But after one bite of that doughnut, I was madly, obsessively, in love.
The infatuation held steady at a tolerable level of interest. It crossed my mind, I would casually look around in the frozen fruit and Latino foods aisles in the grocery stores, hoping I might get lucky and find some passionfruit puree or nectar. I saw plenty of mango and guava and even some dragonfruit, but never any passionfruit.
But as the months went on and I had yet to find any, the obsession grew to, well, full on stalker status. It didn’t help that the passionfruit seemed to be the new ‘it’ fruit, making its way into macarons and cocktails and sorbet. Whenever I saw passionfruit anything, I got it. And my obsession grew.
Finally it got to be unbearable. Poor little me in this passionfruit-dessert that is Nashville. So I went to my trusted source for hard-to-find food stuffs, and sure enough, he was able to procure me one container of precious frozen passionfruit concentrate.
With my tub of passionfruit safely in the freezer, I could finally start to play with the ingredient that had haunted me for so long.
I also happened to have one bag of peaches leftover from our picking surplus, and decided that peach and passionfruit, despite their vastly different origins, would make a perfect combination.
Let me tell you, it’s like a peach took a vacation to a tropical island.