It all started with a doughnut. A milk-chocolate and passionfruit doughnut, to be exact. I'd had passionfruit before, but it never really crossed my mind. Maybe I knew it would be so hard to find and unconsciously avoided it. But after one bite of that doughnut, I was madly, obsessively, in love. The infatuation held steady at a tolerable level of interest. It crossed my mind, I would casually look around in the frozen fruit and Latino foods aisles in the grocery stores, hoping I might get lucky and find some passionfruit puree or nectar. I saw plenty of mango and guava and even some dragonfruit, but never any passionfruit. But as the months went on and I had yet to find any, the obsession grew to, well, full on stalker status. It didn't help that the passionfruit seemed to be the new 'it' fruit, making its way into macarons and cocktails and sorbet. Whenever I saw passionfruit anything, I got it. And my obsession grew. Finally it got to be unbearable. Poor little me in this

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