A friend in Austria recently introduced me to a local version of Planter’s Punch, the classic rum cocktail. To my surprise, the recipe substituted passion fruit for the traditional grenadine syrup and, even more unusual, referred to it as maracuyá in the ingredients, rather than passionsfrucht. Maracuyá is one of my favorite tropical fruit delights—its juice can be drunk on its own or used in ceviche marinades as well as in cocktails, including the Maracuyá Sour, a variation of the Pisco Sour (a popular and potent drink served in Peru). This fruit is particularly wonderful in desserts, especially when paired with butter and sweet cream, as in Victoria’s Coconut Passion Fruit Raspberry Layer Cake, featured in Hamptons Entertaining.
Maracuyá is a word I first heard in Peru, and then again in Paraguay where it described the fruit as used in mousse, cheesecake, and ice cream. In Mexico, I learned to eat maracuyá by loosening the seeds from the shell, adding a little chili powder and lime juice, and then slurping it out of its shell. It’s a method that delivers an addictive burst of hot, sour, and sweet flavors all at once and, when served chilled, is quite refreshing. You really can’t have just one! In Thailand, maracuyá is served au naturel, split in half and simply eaten out of its skin with a spoon.
Several years ago, our Columbian cook introduced my family and me to her favorite restaurant in Fort Lauderdale, Las Orquideas, where we shared an authentically wonderful Pollo a la Plancha en Salsa de Maracuyá (Grilled Chicken in Passion Fruit Sauce). The entire family fell in love with this dish and while traveling in South America, Puerto Rico, and the Dominican Republic we requested it often but were always met with a look of dismay. That is why we decided to learn to make it at home—and we do so often!
I was so excited to hear my Austrian friends refer to this flavorful fruit as we do—maracuyá—and I learned that this little round berry (yes, I was surprised, too!) is called chinola in the Dominican Republic and known as parcha in Puerto Rico. Call it what you will (as Shakespeare said, “a rose by any other name would smell as sweet”), I’m sure you will enjoy our version of Salsa de Maracuyá as much as we do. We like it poured over boneless, pounded grilled chicken breasts paired with a simple green vegetable. I also serve a garlic-infused rice or jalapeño bread alongside; after all you need something to soak up all that delicious sauce once the chicken is gone!
Plates by Richard Ginori; glasses by Diane von Furstenberg; placemats and napkins by Windy Hill; napkin rings by Kim Seybert.
Yield: Makes 2/3 cup