The interstice between autumn and winter is, without a doubt, my favorite time of year. Maple trees in New England suddenly transform into brilliant, leafy rainbows; mornings dawn crisp, cool, and wispy with fog; bright, sunny afternoons entice the most reclusive computer lab hermits to take a walk around the lake; nighttime breezes with just a hint of chill are the perfect excuse to linger in the company of good friends and good tea. And the best part of it all is the arrival in the produce aisle of tiny, fresh, juicy, golden-orange orbs of pure deliciousness - it's clementine season.
Those of you who know me, are probably aware of my passion for - nay, obsession with - clementines. There's something very satisfying about digging my thumbnail into the rind of a new, unbroken fruit, and carefully peeling open the sphere in half. Each new orange represents a small challenge of manual dexterity, that requires a combination of luck, precision, timing, and carefully applied force to extract the wedges undamaged. Of course, the reward is there no matter how much I botch up the opening - one bite and each vesicle yields up its juicy droplet of sweet-yet-tart clementine. Mmm.
So this weekend I went shopping for clementines, and came home with an enormous three kilogram bag. I've never seen this many clementines at once, apart from the produce section in supermarkets - I wasn't sure that I could even finish all of them! But three days later I've devoured all but two, and I'm already budgeting clementine purchases for the next week. I've been rationalizing it as extra doses of vitamin C to keep from catching everyone else's colds (doesn't seem to have worked, unfortunately) and as a healthier snack than popcorn or Nutella (Nocillo in Spain). I was also told in Japan that eating too many oranges would turn one's hands yellow, but it hasn't happened so far - knock on wood.
Side note - the clementine excursion was the second time I've been propositioned this year. I had intended to buy from a small business as opposed to a supermarket chain, so first I tried a small fruit stand on a side street near my apartment. There was a man sitting on a stool in front of the stand, so I assumed that he was the owner of the store. While I had my back to him and was looking at the fruit and inspecting the prices and the quality, he made a "tsk" noise at me. When I turned around, I realized that he couldn't talk - he had a hole in his trachea. He pointed at the clementines and showed me five fingers, which confused me because the sign clearly said "1,39 euro/kg". But when I turned back to the fruit, he "tsk"ed at me again. This time he showed the five fingers again, and then closed his fist and brought down to his groin, then pointed up the alley away from the main street. That's when I realized that he had been mouthing "minutos" - five minutes. Needless to say, I was incredibly skeeved out and left immediately.
I bought my clementines from the supermarket this time ... but the "Origen: España" sticker on the bag makes me feel slightly better.
Those of you who know me, are probably aware of my passion for - nay, obsession with - clementines. There's something very satisfying about digging my thumbnail into the rind of a new, unbroken fruit, and carefully peeling open the sphere in half. Each new orange represents a small challenge of manual dexterity, that requires a combination of luck, precision, timing, and carefully applied force to extract the wedges undamaged. Of course, the reward is there no matter how much I botch up the opening - one bite and each vesicle yields up its juicy droplet of sweet-yet-tart clementine. Mmm.
So this weekend I went shopping for clementines, and came home with an enormous three kilogram bag. I've never seen this many clementines at once, apart from the produce section in supermarkets - I wasn't sure that I could even finish all of them! But three days later I've devoured all but two, and I'm already budgeting clementine purchases for the next week. I've been rationalizing it as extra doses of vitamin C to keep from catching everyone else's colds (doesn't seem to have worked, unfortunately) and as a healthier snack than popcorn or Nutella (Nocillo in Spain). I was also told in Japan that eating too many oranges would turn one's hands yellow, but it hasn't happened so far - knock on wood.
Side note - the clementine excursion was the second time I've been propositioned this year. I had intended to buy from a small business as opposed to a supermarket chain, so first I tried a small fruit stand on a side street near my apartment. There was a man sitting on a stool in front of the stand, so I assumed that he was the owner of the store. While I had my back to him and was looking at the fruit and inspecting the prices and the quality, he made a "tsk" noise at me. When I turned around, I realized that he couldn't talk - he had a hole in his trachea. He pointed at the clementines and showed me five fingers, which confused me because the sign clearly said "1,39 euro/kg". But when I turned back to the fruit, he "tsk"ed at me again. This time he showed the five fingers again, and then closed his fist and brought down to his groin, then pointed up the alley away from the main street. That's when I realized that he had been mouthing "minutos" - five minutes. Needless to say, I was incredibly skeeved out and left immediately.
I bought my clementines from the supermarket this time ... but the "Origen: España" sticker on the bag makes me feel slightly better.
