Round, shiny, yellow, with a little belly button — that is how I always pictured this wonderful and delightful fruit called nanche. The first time I ever encountered them was in my grandma Marce's yard. She had a tree growing in her garden, the one she watered every single morning at five o'clock sharp; so when harvest season rolled around, sometime in June and July, the yard would be dotted with tiny yellow specks. Several of her grandchildren who lived with her knew that our job was to pick them up, one by one — either in our hands, which was more tiring because we had to make many trips, or in some container that could hold a larger quantity, since the fruits were so small. Our mission was to gather the day's harvest, sometimes as many as three or four times in a single day, and bring it to my grandma's kitchen, where she would collect them and later work her magic. That part I loved so much — being a witness to the transformation of the nanches. She would make nanche ice pops to sell; she charged five pesos for them, I remember, and she sold every single one. We would pull out a piece of cardboard that read: "Delicious nanche ice pops for sale." The neighbors and people passing by on the street were our customers, and they always said they were absolutely delicious. And how could they not be! My grandma had the perfect recipe: first, she would let the fruit ripen, and then she would mash them with sugar using the bean masher — she never removed the little pits, she left them right in. Once the nanches were well mashed, she would add milk — sweet condensed milk and evaporated milk — and mix everything together. Then, using a funnel, we would fill the small plastic bags used for making ice pops, tie them off in a knot, and put them in the freezer. Now, my grandma is no longer with us, but in the yard of my own home there is a nanche tree that keeps me connected to her, to our story, to our roots. And I am so deeply grateful to her for everything — her example of hard work, creativity, and love.
Isabela Mora / Tierra Blanca, Veracruz
