The coconut, who knew?

I sometimes wish I were smarter. Retirement has given me the opportunity to read about all sorts of things. Even things like math and physics. I wish though, that I could understand all of what I've been reading. 

I have enjoyed a book entitled Here's Looking at Euclid, by Alex Bellos. And there was another one I read not long ago called A Certain Ambiguity, A Mathematical Novel,  by Gaurav Suri and Hartosh Singh Bal. I want to read that one again soon. 

Both of these books have math in them that I can understand, but sometimes, just barely. I recognise that the authors know math in a way that I'll never understand. My brain just won't open up wide enough to fully comprehend the concepts they sling around with apparent ease. Things like logarithmic spirals. Those are amazing. I learned that when a Peregrine falcon dives after prey, it doesn't dive straight at it. It uses a 40 degree logarithmic spiral. Who knew?  Math is everywhere you look. That's why I want to try A Certain Ambiguity again. I might follow it better the second time around.  

And then there is physics. I started reading recently about elementary particles. This might be interesting I thought. I knew something about electrons, protons, and neutrons after all. Or I thought I did. 

Somehow, during the years when I was busy earning a living, scientists have come up with a whole new bunch of particles that I never heard of. Oh, I knew about some of them. I was a regular watcher of Star Trek after all so I knew all about positrons, and photons and such, but I wasn't ready to hear that there are now also muons and muon neutrinos, tau and tau neutrinos, w and z bosons, gluons, antiparticles and quarks, and gravitons, just to name a few. 

And, I found out, the existence of these particles has led to all sorts of theories. Grand Unification, Supersymetry, String Theory, Technicolor (??), Preon Theory and Acceleron Theory. 

Yipes. Just read the following short explanation of string theory that I found in Wikipedia. (I chose to look up string theory because it sounded simple) 

"String theory is a model of physics where all "particles" that make up matter are composed of strings (measuring at the Planck length) that exist in an 11-dimensional (according to M-theory, the leading version) or 12-dimensional (according to F-theory^[18]) universe." 

I don't know about you, (maybe I should have looked up Technicolor), but I was lost when I got to the Planck length thing. Then they hit me with 11 dimensions in M-theory, or 12 dimensions in F-theory. Forget it. My brain just isn't up to it.

Is it any wonder then, that new-food exploration has appealed to me like it has? I don't need a world-class brain to understand food, right? Just a decent set of taste buds. Thank Goodness for that. 

The book I read on the subject, The Fruit Hunters, by Adam Leith was fascinating and whetted my appetites, both physical and mental, for more discoveries along fruity lines. But even Adam, in his book, didn't tell the whole story of one certain fruit. The Durian might have been named the 'king' of fruit, but the coconut to me must then be the Emperor. And to think of all the years that I knew the coconut in only two ways. Either the nut itself or the dried, shredded and sweetened stuff you sprinkle on top of cupcake frosting. Maybe everyone else knew how many edibles the coconut provides, but I sure didn't. 

I said several posts ago, in Fruit Hunters, part 2, that I might have to do a post just about the coconut. Well, here it is. In my ignorance, what I thought was an unimportant niche fruit, has turned out to be full of all sorts of surprises.  

There was a store in Escanaba that I frequented years ago, that sold odd lots of food stuffs, at huge discounts.  One day I discovered they had a pallet of cases of coconut water for sale. I don't think I had ever tasted bottled coconut water before. I bought an individual bottle of it from the refrigerator shelves and discovered that I loved it. I went back to the store and emptied the pallet. I bought 13 cases. As I typed this, it seemed proper that I should have a bottle of this nearby to 'nourish the little grey cells.'  (Hercule Poirot, Agatha Christie) 

Here is the jar, with it's easy open cap, that started my fascination with this tropical delight here in NZ.  Let me tell you about this and some of the other amazing products that come from this tree.

This is it. The one that started it all. (Look closely at the strings just under the lid. They're not moving at all, are they?)

Some of you will remember when I e-mailed you with the story of finding this at an Asian market. I was initially astounded that I was actually seeing the words gelatinous and mutant used to describe something meant for human consumption. Then, I was delighted! We had not been in Aotearoa for long at that point, and it suddenly felt to me as if I had been transported to somewhere much father away. Sci-fi scenarios flitted around my brain. I looked up and down the aisle in which I stood to allow me to fully imprint the moment. Then, I went back to re-read the label again and savour the unique description of this unknown stuff. 

I started thinking. The word gelatinous I could deal with. There might be any number of reasons why a foodstuff might be described as gelatinous, but mutant? Again, the part of my brain that had devoured science fiction stories in my youth immediately visualised mad doctors on isolated Pacific islands breeding radiation-crazed monsters in a jungle of glowing plants. Hmm, I detected no glowing from the bottle as I held it, but then, the lighting at the Silver Bell Market was bright enough to hide a low level of visible wave-length radiation. 

Okay, read on a little farther. Ingredients: mutant coconut, sugar and water. They mention mutant coconut like it was a choice I might make everyday! 

"Let's see," I'd say to myself, "I had regular coconut yesterday, so maybe I'll have some mutant coconut today."  What?

Do you mean to tell me that there are really mutant coconuts being grown out here somewhere? All my life I had just assumed that every coconut I would ever come across would be a normal one. Certainly, none of the nuts I ever saw possessed extra 'eyes' or had tentacles instead of brown fuzz on it. Do you mean to tell me that there are actually farms out there with a sign above the entrance that announces, 

Welcome to COCONUT Acres. We grow them big.  Really, really, BIG. 

-and weird

All visitors must report to the office and sign our health waiver forms. Decontamination spray is available for a small fee. 

 And look at the label just to the right of the Ingredients section. The expiry date. Do you see one? Well, guess what? There isn't any!  And why should there be, when you come to think of it? The half-life of carbon 14 is 5,730 years. Apparently mutated stuff, whatever other faults it might have, at least stays fresh a very, very long time.  

I snapped back out of my day-dream at this point, and started reasoning. This stuff has sugar in it, right? It says so. It must taste sweet. Therefore, how bad can it be? The price tag on the shelf says it costs $2.59.  Shoot, why not try it? Actually, truth be told, I'd pay a couple of bucks just to have a label that describes a food I have tried as gelatinous and mutant. How cool is that? 

"Betcha' I'll be the only kid on my block with one of these!"

When I got home, I fired up the computer and settled down to discover just what in the world mutant coconut was. And now I know. 

Macapuno is the Filipino word for a naturally occurring coconut mutation which results in an abnormal endosperm. That means the flesh of this sort of nut is soft and jelly-like. It still tastes like coconut is supposed to taste. It's just gelatinous. 

A close-up of gelatinous mutant coconut from the article in Wikipedia. (No, it is not bubbling, pulsing, or growing, or glowing. Despite my worries, real mutant coconut just sits there being gelatinous.) 

 Of course, you find regular coconuts most of the time. Here's a shot I showed you once before. This is from a night market in the underground car park below K-Mart.

In that post, I also told you that once you finish drinking the water, you can also use a spoon to reach in and eat the thin layer of soft coconut flesh. It has yet to mature and is still soft, almost like a  very thick pudding. It is not as puffy looking as the mutant flesh is though. 

Here are a couple more interesting uses. 

I can't wait to try these products, especially the whipping cream. 

You can rehydrate this into a drink or use it directly in smoothies. No dairy in it. Pure coconut in another form. 

Sometimes you'll find the sugar pressed into the shape of  4 inch tall cones. 

And these are 'coconut jerky.'  Allie found them for me. 

I can taste the sweetness, not so much the saltiness. Very chewy, almost leathery, but let them soften up and the sweet coconut comes out. Very interesting product. 

And now for something completely different...  (Monty Python)

 This is something I really like. I've mentioned it before too, but it bears repeating. This is a spiced vinegar made from coconut palm sap. 

I could not believe what I read when I researched this next one, Nata de Coco. 

Remember when I talked about Quorn, and told you that it is a truly new food?  Well, Nata de Coco is a new food in the same way. It was developed in 1973. It did not exist before then.  

Food scientists in the Philippines were working on a way to preserve coconut water as a jelly. They started with coconut water and fermented it. They added a specific bacteria, Acetobacter xylinum.* This bacteria uses the sugars available in the water and extrudes chains of cellulose through its pores. These microscopic chains form aggregates and continue to clump together, eventually forming ribbons that further form into a gel. This gel is removed from the solution, cut to size, is sweetened and sometimes coloured. 'Voila'. You have Nata de Coco. Amazing.

*If anyone looks up articles on Acetobactor, you'll find that it has since been renamed. You'll also find that research is being done using this bacteria and others that extrude cellulose  for use as a wound dressing. Other possibilities are for use as artificial dura mater (the outer layer of the brain and spinal chord membrane), tissue engineering and artificial blood vessels. 

What a world and what a time we live in. 

I just bought these last two at an organic market.  The first is thickened coconut blossom nectar. I had never even considered that coconuts had nectar, or blossoms, for that matter. But of course they must. Isn't ignorance amazing?

Here is a video of collecting the nectar from the blossoms of a coconut palm. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JLQQHIHUSXA&t=5s

This syrup has the colour of a molasses, but it has a light flavor with, I agree, a hint of lemon in it. Kind of tangy. It's very good. And I noticed something else about it. If you stick a spoon into the jar and then withdraw it quickly, a large ribbon of syrup follows the spoon. Allie described it as looking 'rubbery'. Molasses at the same temperature doesn't act the same way. (I tested it) Interesting. The cohesion shown by the nectar syrup is very unusual. 

Finally, I have a real treasure to show you. 

Once again, the sap from coconut blossoms is harvested and cooked down. Sea salt, hot peppers, and onions are added. It turns into this wonderful, thickish sort of brew. It reminds me of Worchestershire sauce a little, but sweeter and with a fruity after taste. I've heard it compared to soy sauce, but that's nonsense. Its color is the only thing similar in my opinion. The flavors are totally different. 

What a miraculous natural world we've been given. I'm pleased that we have made and continue to make such good use of it. Man is so creative. I wonder what other products will be developed in the future? If so much can be made from the sap of the coconut, maybe more could be done with the sap of the sugar maple too? Nata de Acer?  Maple Aminos? 

Hmm, I've still got some of my own maple syrup on the shelf. Maybe I should do some experimenting...  This could be huge...  -djf