Lovely Bunch of Coconuts

The other day, The Tarzan Tree Company, was here to trim a palm tree.  When I came home from work I saw them finishing their job, but they left the coconuts for the people who wanted them. How nice I thought. This really typifies the thoughtfulness of Key West.  I thought I'd take one home and try it. Actually I took two from a pile of 20. Two coconuts. That was Thursday and I waited until today because I knew it might take a little work to open one.

I thought I wouldn't fool around because I heard they are difficult to crack.  I was after the coconut milk which I've had before and although it tastes like slightly bad kool aid with not enough sugar I know it is full of electrolytes.  That means it's healthy.

I pulled out my electric drill and found the largest bit I had. I then proceeded to drill into the shell. I did this four times in various places at the top.  On the fifth try, I lost the bit in the coconut. I managed to pull that out with a pair of needle-nose pliers.  I turned the nut over expecting it to drip milk into the bowl I had chosen.  Nothing.

Then I thought I probably needed a sharp knife.  Not just any knife, a Henckel's.  Those are heavy duty German knifes.  I dug, I chopped, I shredded.  Turned it over, and nothing.

Next, I pulled out a hammer and screwdriver.  I pounded the screwdriver into the coconut until it wouldn't go any further, figuring along with the drilling, cutting, and screwing, it would definitely give out milk.  Nothing.

I then went outside and did the only mature thing I could think of threw it down on the sidewalk with all the force I could muster. I picked it up.  Nothing.  So, I did it again.  NOTHING.

Now, I was angry that a coconut would not respond to all the tricks I thought would work.  I went online and looked up, "How to open a coconut."  It suggested a hammer and screwdriver and a wine corkscrew.  I tried that only to get the corkscrew stick in the skin that I had partially dug out.

I went outside and threw it on the concrete a few more times until a quarter of the outside skin began to split and I finally was able to get inside and get the milk. I had to put it in a bowl and then strain it so that the shredded pulp wouldn't get in the way.

And here is the result:

And now I know why tree trimmers leave them on the side of the road. Who would want them?