Back Yard Food Bounty

* Did you know that thousands of tons of food rot here in El Pueblo de Los Angeles? No. I’m not attacking commercial grocery stores. I mean us. You and me. In back-yard gardens and orchards. It may seem inconsequential. One lemon tree, or a solitary orange tree. But put together, it makes a difference. A big difference.

And it’s the best fruit available. Better than store-bought. Fresh, tree-ripened, wholesome, pesticide-free. My home-grown striped Zebra tomatoes are tastier than any they sell at the market, my radishes three times hotter.

I found three abandoned sapote trees a few miles from my home. The lot been abandoned for ages. I think the house burned down 20 or 30 years ago. All that’s left is the concrete stairwell, and these magnificent trees. I didn’t know what the fruit was, so I took a sample to the farmer’s market. One of the merchants there told me it was the most delicious fruit of South America. So this morning I harvested maybe 60 pounds of the green, apple-shaped sapotes. I passed them around to all my neighbors. You should have seen the smiles on their faces. I had never met most of them before.

Within an hour the spirit had spread. My next-door neighbor harvested her persimmon tree. She brought me over a bucketful of squat, brilliant orange persimmons. As beautiful as Christmas ornaments. She speaks only Chinese, but we didn’t need any words. Feelings of love and care are universal.

The Spanish-speaking guy across the street brought me the biggest grapefruit I have ever seen. Maybe seven pounds. Full of sweet, juicy red flesh. I know he couldn’t possibly eat all the fruit his massive tree bore.

An African American neighbor brought me over half a dozen home-grown avocados. I could see my neighbors from my computer terminal in my window, visiting each other, carrying bags of produce to offer. Food that would have rotted on the vine. Extending friendships that had been nipped in the bud.

It doesn’t take any money to share. And sharing the bounty was the thought behind that first day of Thanksgiving, so long ago.

ERNIE ALDERETE

Los Angeles