This winter it's been damn hard to find a decent clementine. My theory is that they (and we) are victims of their success. Fifteen years ago, when the charming wooden crates of these delightful fruits began to appear, it seemed impossible to get a bad one. From November to March, we feasted on perfectly tart, seedless little citrus gems. The Spanish beauties festooned our holiday tables and rounded out our brown bag lunches in their bright unassuming way.
Now? They come from Spain, they come from Morocco, they come from California, and they even come from South America in the summer time, but despite this bounty, their quality is spotty. Clever distributors have designed a bright orange mesh to sell them in, making it impossible to see the true color of the fruit, much less its size or the texture of the rind. Everybody loves clementines, but not many of us get what we hoped for once we open the package.
It's to the point where I ask anyone who has a decent looking specimen where it was obtained, and I confess to driving way out of my way just to find some good clementines.
Thankfully, there is another orange that is just as satisfying. I remember my mother buying Temple oranges when I was a little girl. They were always cheaper than the smooth-skinned navals and Valencias, probably because they have A LOT of seeds, but to me they have always been superior-- easy to peel, always juicy, with a flawless balance of sweet and tart.
I don't feel that the Temple orange has received its proper due, but maybe that's a good thing. Their season is very short, so brief in fact that I forget about them from year to year until that day when I walk into the produce section and spy a stack.
Today, like that day every year, I clapped my hands and nearly skipped over to fill my plastic bag.
Shhhhh.
Now? They come from Spain, they come from Morocco, they come from California, and they even come from South America in the summer time, but despite this bounty, their quality is spotty. Clever distributors have designed a bright orange mesh to sell them in, making it impossible to see the true color of the fruit, much less its size or the texture of the rind. Everybody loves clementines, but not many of us get what we hoped for once we open the package.
It's to the point where I ask anyone who has a decent looking specimen where it was obtained, and I confess to driving way out of my way just to find some good clementines.
Thankfully, there is another orange that is just as satisfying. I remember my mother buying Temple oranges when I was a little girl. They were always cheaper than the smooth-skinned navals and Valencias, probably because they have A LOT of seeds, but to me they have always been superior-- easy to peel, always juicy, with a flawless balance of sweet and tart.
I don't feel that the Temple orange has received its proper due, but maybe that's a good thing. Their season is very short, so brief in fact that I forget about them from year to year until that day when I walk into the produce section and spy a stack.
Today, like that day every year, I clapped my hands and nearly skipped over to fill my plastic bag.
Shhhhh.
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