I find using my hands to cook extremely meditative. The tactile expressions of kneading, carving, peeling and using primal tools such as knives, mortars and pestles is so therapeutic. I also like to pick at scabs, peel away pesky stickers from new containers and generally perform any function of adroitness. That’s why, when faced with a whole pomelo, I find nothing but delight.
Unusual fruits and vegetables are to me what Rubik’s cubes are to maths whizzes. I adore being handed something mysterious and asked to open it – my inner primate comes out to play and, for a time, all else fades away.
I suppose that is why tourists love watching fruit-stall sellers everywhere from Thailand to Mexico carve pineapples and durians, or hack the tops off young coconuts with one masterly machete swipe. Most of us spend time in front of screens, and beating familiar tracks into concrete footpaths, so when we see the artistry of people who work with their hands, we feel our deepest desires to play emerge.
Let me start by clarifying that, like every other fruit on the market, there are many varieties available. Their colours range from creamy golden to the rubiest red, and their shapes from perfectly round to ovoid with nipples to squat and slightly flattened. They are one of six core, ancient citrus species that the rest of the citrus available today is cultivated from. The other five, you can Google.
This is the perfect time of the year for Australian-grown pomelos, and they are available at most Asian grocers. The early varieties are now ready, and since Chinese New Year was just last weekend, they are the most common fruit sighted in home shrines and public temples due to their symbolism of continuous prosperity and good health.
Now let’s return back to how to play with a pomelo so that you can get to the juicy kernels – or vesicles – to snack on and cook with.
First, really look at what you have in front of you. Admire the heck out of it, congratulate yourself for not letting it daunt you if you are a pomelo virgin, and ponder this: the heavy fruit you have in front of you grew at the end of a very slim branch, the diameter of a pianist’s pinkie. It has taken months to get to this weight and size, without snapping the slender stalk – talk about resilience.
The best pomelos I’ve had are not eaten straight off the tree. Once picked at maturity, they need time to rest. Their piths will slightly soften and the sugars inside accumulate. The Thais have a charming expression: “The fruit needs to forget its mother plant” to be at its best – not unlike people who need to forge their way out in the world to become our best selves.
Get out a cutting board, a sharp pairing knife and a plate. Start by slicing a sixth off the top of the fruit. Don’t be alarmed if you have cut into the flesh; likewise don’t be alarmed if you don’t come across anything but pith.
Then score down the sides like you are slicing an orange, but without cutting all the way into the flesh – about 2-5cm deep. Do this about four to six times around.
Firmly peel back the rind and pith to reveal a naked pomelo with a few layers of skin left. Don’t be disheartened if the bulk of the pomelo was rind and pith – and don’t discard these, either. It is great for pickling, or slicing thinly for marmalade.
Using your pairing knife, peel back the layers of thin skin that remain. This part is perhaps my favourite bit. Very gently pry apart the pomelo, and from here, break it into segments and peel away at the final layers to reveal the vesicles. The ultimate challenge is to keep the segments intact as you do so.
Don’t worry, no one is judging you if you can’t. Also, it doesn’t matter because you’ll be eating it in a second, if you haven’t started already. They are perfectly addictive, and despite the size it can be hard not to eat a whole pomelo in one sitting.
Practice will lead to dexterity. They are a puzzle worth solving – my idea of perfect Rubik’s cube.
Pomelo Salad
Serves two
2 cups pomelo, peeled and vesicles broken up
3 large tiger or king prawns, shells removed and butterflied
200gr chicken breast
1.5 tbs toasted dried coconut
1.5 tbs ground peanuts
1 tbs fried shallots
1.5 tbs ground dry shrimp whizzed in a grinder or food processor
40g red shallots, finely sliced
1.5 tbs coriander, finely sliced
1 tbs kaffir lime leaves, finely sliced
1.5 tbs nahm prik pao or chili jam
For the dressing
2 tbs lime juice
1.5 tbs fish sauce
1 tbs palm or brown sugar
2 tbs coconut milk
1/2 tbs bird’s eye chili, finely sliced
Prepare the dressing by placing the ingredients into a bowl and whisking until well incorporated. Set aside.
Toast coconut in a dry, small saucepan over medium-high heat, stirring occasionally, until golden brown – about four minutes. Transfer to a small bowl.
Roast peanuts for a couple of minutes until golden brown. Remove from heat, and when cooled, grind in a coffee grinder – not too finely – or crush into a course powder using a mortar and pestle.
Poach the chicken in a saucepan of boiling water until thoroughly cooked, remove and cool. Hand shred chicken into strands, following the grain of the meat.
Poach the prawns until cooked but still a little translucent, remove and set aside.
Place the pomelo vesicles into a large bowl and add half of the dressing, shallots, coriander and kaffir lime leaves.
Using a small saucepan, over medium heat, warm coconut milk and add a pinch of salt. Bring the milk to a soft boil, remove, let it cool then immerse prawns into the coconut milk.
Compose the salad by mixing the pomelo, chicken and herbs, plating onto a serving platter or bowl, and drizzling the remaining dressing over. Sprinkle on the ground peanuts, dried shrimp and toasted coconut. Arrange the prawns on top and drizzle the remaining coconut milk over the whole salad. Serve immediately.