Once upon a time, right after college, I stayed at an island of the coast of Honduras called Utila. On the island were coconut trees. I suppose they were native and you could pay less than a dollar to buy one.
I’m not sure if each tree belonged to a family, or whoever were able to climb up the trunk first would be owner of those.
Then they would be opened with a machete, either at the stall or by one of our own.
I had bought one for my friend Karl to protect himself when he decided to trek through the jungle on the mainland; although I don’t know if he had it when this photo was taken.
Anyway, as you can see that say we just drank the juice straight from the coconut without straws and glasses.
It occurred to me after this photo, this must be the reason all coconuts are disappointing since then. Somehow when I am at a restaurant or when I buy drink at the supermarket or when buy a box of 12 of actual coconuts to drink at home, I feel it’s not as good as it should be.
I suppose I will never be in the Caribbean, on the coast, with no career, children or care in the world drinking a coconut and therefore it will never taste the same.
But this photo has inspired me to make a number of coconut recipes from different parts of the world.
The juice and milk will be from cans but it’s the experiment and experience that matters.