After seeing that post earlier of that branch of Misbelief’s, I decided to revive one of my blogs and map out a plan of where to find a tree today. Other than the huge one I saw on Marginy and St.Claude oneday that had me wanting to go knock the door of who had to be a transplant, because no sane New Orleans person would ever have a big axx tree bearing fruit that we wld let just rot on the tree, fall to the grown and rot and let the birds and squirrels eat the damn fruit 🤦🏾😡
I’m still mad.. they really need to move like why??🤷🏾
My Auntie cut down a pecan tree and I nearly died, but out of blinking in and out I think she said it was dying or something along that line..i hope🤔
A childhood favorite that had me in a many of yards trespassing is what it would be considered now, just to get my fingers on these sweet little things. I remember jumping over fences, looking out for dogs and though I never was told to get out of someone’s yard, I heard a plenty of stories about friends who were. Some who were either really brave or needed the Misbeliefs so bad they would go into yards known for dogs, mean old ladies and climb so high after seeing the ripest ones on higher branches that they fell and more than likely walking around with a fracture that set itself and giving them problems, because they could not and would not be able to tell their Mama they climbed and fell out of a Misbelief Tree..😂⚜
I’m sad to tell yall that on my NOLA walks I have noticed a many of trees with branches of fruit rotting and drying up, because of two things I believe; #1 the “transplants” people who relocated here have no idea what a priceless tasty delicacy they possess and #2 there are not enough natives/locals here to eat them up.
Since, I know it’s Misbelief Season I plan to hit different streets on my NOLA walks and go around my old school areas, I know I will find a few trees around there.
Photo credit Jalis Lewis
These little fruit trees grow all over the city. We have one in the back yard, and the fruit is delicious, like a sweet apricot with a little kiwi or banana mixed in. Loquats are often called “misbeliefs” by local children, and the reason that I have found that makes the most sense is that Italian immigrants long ago, who may have actually brought these trees to New Orleans, called them Mespila or or Nespolo, the common name in Italy. Which somehow was changed to misbelief over time. Ours are still a bit sour to eat, but they’ll be ready by Jazz Fest if not before.