Slicing Oranges

There is a lot of citrus in the house these days. There are blood oranges, minneolas, clementines, naval oranges – some even sent from my parents in California, tangarines… It’s the season, and in the depths of winter, they make for a sweet-sour juicy treat.

After dinner we usually have fruit. The other day, the nine year old took the oranges into the kitchen, sliced them, and brought them back, all laid out on a plate.

I took one look and clutched my pearls.

She had cut them into half moon wheels. This was not what I was used to.

I can be a little…. inflexible in the kitchen. The Husband tells me I have a lot of food rules.

“You have to cut it into smiles,” I insisted.

The Husband said, “You can’t tell her how to cut an orange.”

“Yes I can. Oranges are cut into wedges. Or else you can’t put them in your mouth and smile orange smiles.”

“Yes, I can!” the nine year old said, and proceeded to put a half wheel between her teeth and pull her lips over the edges. “Theee?” she said. “Orange thmiles!”

I shook my head, “No, no, no! This is not how you cut oranges to eat after dinner.”

The Husband took a patient breath. “How do you cut them? Can you show us?”

So I took another orange and proceeded to cut it in half from the pedical through the core. Then each half, I cut into three wedges for a total of six smiles. Satisfied with having my teachable moment of the day, we finished our fruit and moved on.

But later that week, as I was slicing oranges for lunch, I thought about it. I asked myself, “Why can’t oranges for after dinner be cut into half moons? I mean it certainly is prettier and makes for nice garnish. It surely doesn’t taste differently?”

So I decided to try it. I took an orange and cut it around its equator into slices, the segments radiating from the core like the sun rays. Then I cut those in half. So far so good. As I picked up the half wheel, I realized that cutting ihe orange in half wheels was a whole different eating experience; rather than struggling with stuffing a huge segment of orange in my mouth, I could peel back the rind and pull the orange segments apart, one small triangle at a time. This also proved a much easier way to share the orange slices with the Baby. It wasn’t what I was used to, but it worked rather well for getting food into bite-sized segments. Well then.

Later that day, I went up to my daughter and said, “Honey? I’m sorry. You can slice your orange however you want.”