Feijoa Season

One of things I was most upset about while I'm away from New Zealand is that I completely missed feijoa season. I LOVE feijoas, I love them a ridiculous amount. I love them more than I love fries or (Delish) cupcakes, or even hummus. And I love fries and cupcakes and hummus an awful lot. And the thing about feijoas is that every second person has a tree in their backyard so that when feijoa season hits you are bombarded with fresh, free and totally amazing feijoas. Well, in London they don't have feijoas. But, a clever kiwi based store imported them. They were expensive, woah man were they ever expensive. I paid two quid per feijoa. The lady in the store said that they were basically worth their weight in gold to homesick kiwis. I understood what she meant because I shelled out twenty quid for ten.

But oh was it worth it! They smell super sweet, and remind me of home. I've never enjoyed feijoas as much as I have here, when every spoonful was savoured, the taste and the texture and all of it was loved and adored. It was brilliant. Ridiculously good. Ridiculously tasty.

Sadly the store sold out shortly after I'd picked up my ten, but I'm glad to have been able to experience a little bit of home here. And that it still will forever remind me of home, as they aren't super readily available anywhere else. It's the little things, right?