The Peerless, Popable, Tart, Sweet Cherry Plum

"Well, the skin is tart," said the woman at the Farmer's Market, her shale colored hair tied back with a piece of leather string.

"Tart?" I replied, eyeing the small baskets of curious fruit, what looked like plums but each no bigger than the masher in a bag of marbles. The sign for "Fresh Cherry Plums" caught my eye, and being an enthusiastic fan of both cherries and plums I was pulled in with near gravitic force.

"Extremely tart. From the tip of your tongue till the moment you swallow tart."

"Really!? I've had a tart plum before, but never a tart plum before."

"Oh well these are tart. Tart skinned that is. Some people like their fruit to have layers of subtley. A million different smells and aromas all competing. Who wants a plum with a hint of cherry with a nose of pineapple mysteriously waiting behind the bush ready to jump you? Not cherry plums though. There are two notes: Tart and Sweet. (With a plum taste of course.) In fact, I would say the skin on these plums stand up and shout, 'I'm tart! I'll make you flinch and squeeze your eyes shut!'"

"That doesn't exactly sound appealing."

"It's appealing because it's sweet," she said in a perspicacious tone that brought a sly bit of color to her somewhat pallor complexion.

"But you said it was tart."

"Yes, but I said it was sweet. The flesh is sweet, like juicy candy that's waiting to tell you the sweetest secret you've ever heard. Except the second you try to tell it to someone else you can't."

"Why can't I?"

"Because the juice will dribble down your chin." Obviously. "That's why I suggest you don't try to nibble it and just pop the whole thing in your mouth in a single bite. Swallow the secret, nibbling will just spread it around and make a mess of things like your chin and shirt. The tart will be tart, the sweet will be sweet and that makes it the perfect popable plum."

"A peerless plum! I'm convinced," I said, and handed her a dollar for a basket. Indeed, as I tossed a cherry plum or two in my mouth on the walk back to the car I enjoyed the belligerent tart and the unblemished sweet of the plum, then skillfully spit out the pits with a certain spin, arc and distance that can only be achieved after years of rigorous practice with cherry pits. A peerless plum indeed.