I sometimes have memories of events or happenings, tastes or experiences which of course marked my upbringing, my thought processes and my outlook. From as complex as the literature I read to as simple as the tastes I tasted. Today I am going to share exactly this taste memory with you.
Growing up in Cyprus there was one Chinese Restaurant on the island not far from our house. We often went to this restaurant for celebratory meals and would have spring rolls and an assortment of main dishes but I would always have lychees for dessert. For me they came in an ice cream metal cup, were always cold and refreshing, quite sweet and unlike any other fruit I had ever tasted.
As I grew I was able to go to the shops and recognise a tin of Lychees but that is where the adventure ended. Until, that is, I came to India. I blogged about the appearance of fresh lychees on the streets and the roads are full of barrows selling them at the moment. But it wasn't until I had been to Uttarkhand that I could finally complete the circle. Uttarkhand was rich and fertile, full of mango and lychee orchards and the green pendulous mangoes contrasted with the shamelessly blushing pink and plentiful bunches of lychees.
I have now completed the circle- from a memory of childhood, a tin on a supermarket shelf - to freshly picked and dangling off a lychee tree.
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