Jackfruit |
"Are you carrying any fruits or vegetables?", the American customs official officially asked.
A soldier of Homeland Security, or perhaps Homeland Peculiarity.
"Three apples", was our response.
Alarm bells went off. Not real alarm bells that everyone could hear, but alarm bells the customs official had installed in his head, replacing his cerebral cortex.
We were travelling from Toronto to Florida with three apples in our carry-on, so that we could eat something while imprisoned in a flying metal tube where sewer effluent acting as a ham sandwich (it won a Tony) sells on the black market for $50 U.S. (about $1,200 Canadian).
"Please see the officials in secondary", the official officially officialled.
And then it was official. Our apples were confiscated. Thrown out, in an American nod to curing world hunger.
The terrorist-seeking experts outed us. Our plan: smuggle Canadian apples into America, visit an Applebee's restaurant, thinly slice the apples and slip them into mom's apple pie while the pimply salad bar attendant was busy removing boogers from the bacon bits, where a deadly virus would take hold and spread. The virus was called "socialized medicine" and it would have destroyed America as we know it, if not for Homeland Insecurity, and some help from Paul Ryan.
After the trip, I canoed back to my terrorist training camp tucked away in Algonquin Park for a brush up and have hatched another plan.
I Googled "the largest fruit in the world" and got Jackfruit. Never heard of it. Is it from Jack and the Beanstalk?
I know what you mean. Can that really be fruit? It looks like the testes from one of the giants Jack battled.
My next American visit will include a cart of jackfruit. I bet Homeland Peculiarity isn't aware that each piece of jackfruit can weigh up to 100 lbs's. Will it break their scanner?
"Are you carrying any fruits or vegetables?", the American customs official officially asked.
"Oh yes", I answer with a Cheshire smile. "Can you help me with these, I have a bad back from picking fruit."