For two decades, I’ve clung to the rules of local and season—aiming to eat citrus, dairy, meats and eventually, grains, too, that came from 100 miles from my home in New York. But when winter hits hard and the CSA box is a repeat of celeriac and red cabbage, when the kids are plowing through more Kleenex than I can count and the nights come at 5 PM, there’s only one thing that can turn this ship around: tropical fruit.

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