Juice in the United States is a sad affair. It’s one I’ve mentioned a number of times on this blog in various capacities. But I think it’s particularly embarrassing to discuss and confront it when in the company of those who grew up in cultures and countries where, if one chooses to consume juice, one can get it fresh squeezed. If you grew up in that type of culture, you’d be disgusted and aghast to find out that in the U.S., while the label on your orange juice carton from the grocery store may say “100% juice,” what it really means is… an orange that has been completely deconstructed, pasteurized, squeezed, and broken down into so many different forms that it no longer has any flavor that resembles the original fruit. To recreate the taste of “fresh orange juice,” juice companies add “flavor packs,” which are essentially chemical flavorings that are derived from orange essence and oil. Somehow, these do not need to be labeled as separate ingredients since they are derived from oranges, and hence, your juice can be called 100% juice with only “orange juice” as the ingredient. Sick, right?
I’ve never been a big juice drinker as an adult, as I prefer to eat my fruit. But, I do enjoy the occasional fruit smoothie. I’ve gone through phases when I’ve regularly made smoothies at home. Sometimes while on work trips, I’ll get cold-pressed juice (usually green) as a treat. But, when in countries where the fresh squeezed juice culture is strong, like Brazil, Colombia, or in Southeast Asia, I am happy to enjoy them… because they’re freshly squeezed, not heavily processed. They actually taste like what the fruit should taste like.
When we arrived at the Santiago Marriott Hotel this morning, where we’ll be spending the next five nights, we were invited to breakfast. And Chris was excited to see that the “default juices” in the beverage section were passion fruit (maracuya) and cherimoya (custard apple). Both were delicious and tasted like the real fruit, even if they weren’t actually fresh squeezed. Because we are in South America during the Southern Hemisphere winter, we’re not here during peak cherimoya season unfortunately, which is during November-December. So I was a bit bummed about that given how much I love cherimoya, though I rarely eat it because it’s such an expensive fruit almost everywhere we’ve been. Cherimoya’s home is actually in the Andes Mountains, somewhere between Peru and Ecuador. It’s thought to be just a regular summer fruit here in Chile, so when you come here during their spring/summer, you can find it for cheap at any local market. It’s okay, though: I’m still happy to enjoy the juice!