Strange Fruit

A friend of mine who frequently brings me mangoes and other treats turned up the other day with a fruit I had never seen before. Its colour was yellow and it looked like a small ripe guava. It could have been a large hog plum. It might have even been a yellow peewaw. It also bore a strong resemblance to the foreign apricot. It was none of the above. In fact, he informed me, it was a “penny-piece”. I had neither heard the name nor seen the fruit before which surprised me because in my youth I had eaten my fill of “gru gru boeuf”, “fat pork”, “padu”, “five fingers”, “balata”, “damson” and “primrose” to mention a few of the now almost extinct home-grown produce that so delighted earlier generations. Was I even spelling their names correctly? How then had I never come across the fruit with the strange sounding name of “penny-piece”? “Try it,” he urged. I held the yellow fruit with its soft smooth feel in my hands, and never one to resist a challenge broke it in two. In the centre was a seed embedded in flesh the colour and consistency of butter. I took a bite and paused. It was neither sweet nor sour and the only words I could think of to describe the taste was dry, clawing, clinging to the roof of my mouth in a way I did not like at all. Since I had no idea whether the fruit had been born of a tall tree, a short tree or even on a vine overrun by stinging nettle and even wild bees, how could I tell this kind friend that I didn’t like it? But he read my expression well and I confessed as gently as I could that the penny-piece was not for me and indeed mused that no  wonder it had all but disappeared from the scene.

Who would grow this fruit with the strange taste and even stranger name? What would today’s young people, reared on a lifelong diet of foreign apples and grapes, make of the penny-piece? In the first place what do they know of the word “penny” other than that there was once a Miss Universe of that name? The “penny,” that I remember was a brassy coin with the image of the British Queen’s face, which has long since passed from the realm, at least for us. On one side of the coin was the face of the King/Queen and the other side was the image of Brittania with the Latin motto: “Dei Gratia Brittanica Omnia Fidei Defendor India Imperator” or “by the grace of God King of all Britain, defender of the faith Emperor of India.” In 1949 the title Emperor of India was removed due to Indian independence. The old penny was worth two cents, but indeed even the British have replaced that old penny with the “new pence,” still worth only two cents. But how did this fruit which looks pretty appealing even though of nondescript flavour come by the name of penny-piece? Did it cost a penny for one? Not likely, given the free way we helped ourselves to fruit which grew wild and everywhere in the past? Does anyone know? Would anyone care to enlighten me?