Don’t know jackfruit? Read this primer
Dear Amy Drew,
I’m curious about jackfruit, but it’s a little intimidating. How about a little more information? No need to print my name.
Amy Drew’s Answer
Dear Jackfruit-Curious: Butchering a jackfruit is a process I can only describe as hyper-biological.
You need gloves. You need tools. You need time. You also need to spread out a newspaper before you start.
Once cut, the jackfruit emits a sap that will stretch fibrously between your fingers and bind bits of itself to your knife, your gloves, your T-shirt, your face — basically anyplace you touch by accident. Anointing your knife and fingers with cooking spray at regular intervals will help prevent this.
I am a small person and so found myself needing a stepstool to get proper leverage because jackfruits also are enormous. The most petite specimen at the iFresh Supermarket on East Colonial Drive clocked in at 21.13 pounds. The largest on record came in at just under 100, but even this one looked pilfered from the nest of a dragon, spiky and leathery with the faintest aroma of Juicy Fruit gum.
“It smells God awful,” Jenn Ross tells me. I like it. We agree to disagree. “Jackfruit is very common in Jamaica, and full disclosure: I hated it growing up.”
This is interesting because her Eatonville restaurant, DaJen Eats (323 E. Kennedy Blvd. in Eatonville, 407-775-5791; dajeneats.com/), serves it on and off with frequency. That’s because later in life, after Ross became a vegan, she discovered that jackfruit in
its green, unripe state has a texture that mimics that of pulled pork.
“This had been going on for years when I finally tried it,” she says, “and one thing I love about cooking plant-based is that it challenges you to look at foods you’re already familiar with
in different ways. I never would have thought of eating green jackfruit.”
But it made sense. The fruit has little to no flavor before it ripens. It has a very malleable texture. And it doesn’t yet have that signature aroma, which Ross finds reminiscent of cilantro’s
love-it-or-hate-it properties. It’s often described as musky.
Jackfruit is a plant, related to both figs and breadfruit. Yet cutting it apart is something — as a fan of the Alien films — I found more akin to Xenomorph dissection.
At no point during my research did the jackfruit latch onto my face and attempt to lay eggs in my mouth, but honestly… There were points where I wouldn’t have been surprised. Despite this dramatic description, it’s quite a beautiful fruit, its interior structures fascinating.
Cutting it apart, though challenging, is straightforward. First, you cut the fruit in half, lengthwise. Then again into quarters. Then you remove the hard core. At this point, you’ve made it past the heaviest part of the sap phase and need a smaller paring knife to
extract the pockets of edible flesh from the fibrous inedible parts. In this way, the jackfruit is like an enormous version of a pomegranate.
Jackfruit flesh comes in what I’d describe as pods. It seems almost pregnant with them. Within each is tucked a large, beautiful seed — also edible, once boiled. I found recipes online that feature roasted, mashed and even curried jackfruit seeds. I am going to try these out.
It has notes of more familiar fruits — mango, pineapple, banana — and can be used to make desserts like ice cream or custard. I bet it would be killer in a coconutty sticky rice dessert. I’ll likely freeze most of mine for smoothies, but there’s a small chance that by the end of June, I’ll be the Forrest Gump of jackfruit, with a roster of preparations under my belt.
I’ve seen jackfruit increasingly in places like Publix, which didn’t carry it with frequency in the past. Ross attributes the uptick in plant-based eating as the likely cause, one she welcomes — but says if you’re interested in making a jackfruit-version of pulled pork, it’s far easier with the canned variety.
My local Publix didn’t carry it, but you’ll find it easily at an Asian market like iFresh.
“It comes packaged in syrup, water or brine,” Ross notes. “You want the brined one, which is even better than fresh in a way because the salt enhances the texture.”
Even easier? Hit up DaJen Eats, where Ross will be serving up some version of jerk BBQ jackfruit as a special this week.
I loved pomegranates when I was little. My mom would cut one in half and set it down on my little TV tray where I’d while away time extracting all the sweet, tart jewel-like seeds. I was like a zoo animal with an enrichment toy. It was fun. Stimulating. A delicious challenge.
These days I spend extra on the fresh cup of seeds and get on with my life.
If you’re jackfruit-curious, there’s something the Asian markets offer that Publix (mine, at least) doesn’t: small, cut slabs that will allow you to experience most of the aforementioned jackfruit traits in just a few minutes, with minimal mess and leftovers.
If you like the Alien movies, though, you may want a more immersive learning experience. And a machete.
Got a food question? Find me on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram @amydroo or on the OSFoodie Instagram account @orlando.foodie or email me at amthompson@orlandosentinel.com, and your question could be answered in my weekly Ask Amy Drew column. For more foodie fun, join the Let’s Eat, Orlando Facebook group.