The thing is, well…I’m overwhelmed by the citrus. Where I grew up on the east coast in the mountains, I could only dream of so much citrus. In California, I can go to the back yard and pick a lemon off a tree – any time I want, any day of the year. This blows my mind.
The fruit box comes heaving with citrus fruit – bags and bags! Not just safe fruit, like oranges, but tiny things I had to Google – kumquats. You eat them whole, apparently. The peel and everything!
Citrus is taking over the fridge. I can’t eat it fast enough.
“Look,” I tell my family, “I’m instituting a Citrus Quota. Two pieces, everyone, every day.”
I expand my culinary horizons, throwing citrus into every meal – orange salad, a lemon in every cuppa tea, blood orange sangria, kumquats in stir fry. Sal whips up a dish with black rice and candied orange peels. We’re trying.
At last count we have:
– 4 oranges
– 20 mini oranges (maybe clementines?)
– 2 grapefruits
– 57 kumquats
– 2 lemons
– 1 mystery Monster Citrus
The citrus is winning!
I pull the Monster Citrus out of the bag. Sal says it’s a lemon. I scoff – no lemon could aspire to be so large! I declare it a grapefruit, and tackle it for breakfast one morning.
I cut the thing open and take a bite.
“Oh my God.”
“What?” Sal calls from the dining room.
“It’s a lemon!”
“Do I get any ‘I’m right’ points for that?”
It takes a gallon sized plastic bag to store it. I stand a moment at the fridge, staring at it with awe mingled with trepidation.
Dear Lord, California. What citrus mysteries to behold!