i love oranges. they’re my favorite fruit. they’re my favorite color. i love blood oranges, navel oranges, valencia oranges…
i love peeling them. when i peel them, i try to peel them in one long strip so that i can put the peel back together in a reasonable facsimile of the orange. navel oranges are the best for this, blood oranges the worst. it’s weird – it’s one of those things that totally lets me escape and still my ever-whirring, busy little brain. and once it’s peeled, i get to eat an orange.
my dad was much the same way – loved oranges, loved peeling them. however, he was far more fastidious than i in MANY ways. so for him, peeling oranges was easily a 15 minute job. to peel an orange like my dad, you’d need a thick-skinned navel orange, two knives, a 3 paper towels, and a plate.
got all that?
- take the first knife – paring, naturally – and peel the outermost layer of the skin. (our peeling techniques were similar in that he’d try to do it in one strip)
- take the outer peel, and place it on the paper towels (stacked, to absorb any stray juice).
- take paring knife and gratifyingly peel off strips of the pith.
- place pith in an increasingly pyramidic pile on the outer peel on the paper towels.
- break the orange into sections.
- take the sections, one at a time, and use the second knife (far thinner, and longer… maybe a vegetable knife?) to slice the section jackets open and slip the orange slice out in a juicy mess
- place naked orange slices on place, section jackets on orange refuse pyramid on paper towels.
- repeat until all sections are naked.
- top pyramid with the navel of the orange.
- eat your orange 16476537 hours after starting to peel it.