There's really nothing quite like the taste of fresh-squeezed oranges, the tart-sweet juice, full of pulp. It tastes so vibrant, so life-affirming.
Which is exactly what I need right now, on Day 8 of a stubborn cold. OK, yes, I'm feeling a little sorry for myself. I had dodged the usual Christmas crud and was feeling like it was going to be smooth sailing while I house sat for my sister and brother-in-law in Pasadena for a couple of weeks as John's in the Northwest getting his fix of skiing.
Instead, I'm stuck on the couch, exhausting every streaming possibility available. I'm all caught up on the shows I've been missing on Netflix, including Season 3 of The Crown. So good, right? The best kind of history lesson, that series.
In between rounds of coughing and blowing my nose, I'll wander out to the backyard and pick some fruit from Sissy's orange tree. It's been a really good year and I'm so glad to reap the rewards.
Last winter, I went to several farmers markets around Los Angeles and was completely blown away by the varieties of winter citrus I've never heard of before.
Come to think of it, produce in general tastes a whole lot fresher in this part of the world. Just another reason we're grateful for this nomadic lifestyle that includes a generous dose of sunshine and lots of good things to eat.