Walking through the orange groves as Paddy chases the rabbits, I’ve noticed for several weeks now that the oranges are changing colour. However, they are still pretty solid to the touch, and welded firmly to the tree, so I didn’t actually expect to enjoy local fresh orange juice until I returned from the UK. And you cant get more local than a five minute walk from your doorstep, can you?
Just an information point here. If it’s an unfenced grove, the farmers in Spain don’t mind if you take a few oranges for your own use, as long as you’re not too greedy. What they’re not keen on is the likes of the guy who came in at night with a lorry and took €10,000 worth of oranges from various groves to sell on the markets.
Anyway, in the groves yesterday, I noticed that a few oranges had fallen from the trees. Checking them, I found three fairly large oranges that felt soft and smelled wonderful, so I brought them home with me. This morning, I took the juicer out of summer storage and we had our first new season orange juice. It was a little bit sharp, but oh, what a fresh flavour! Far superior to what’s been available through the summer.
I don’t know why, but for some reason, summer juicing oranges just don’t taste as good as the ones you get through the winter. Maybe our region does winter oranges better than summer ones. Or maybe there’s some truth in the adage that free food always tastes better. Either way, we enjoyed our fresh winter orange juice, so when Paddy has his run this afternoon, I’ll keep my eyes peeled for more windfalls. I absolutely love living in Algorfa, with the orange groves on my doorstep!