Isn’t it nice that, as the days slide darkly and coldly into winter, something as vivid and as citrus fruit would come into season? I love walking into the winter market and finding huge boxes of navel oranges, great piles of tangerines and tangelos, and glowing baskets of Cara Cara oranges (of which I’ve already sung the praises on these pages). They’re as restorative to look at as they are to eat.
Anyhow, my very favorite of all things citrus is the pink grapefruit. Wait, let me rephrase that—my very favorite citrus is a REALLY GOOD pink grapefruit. Hence: I only eat them in season. I worship at the altar of the kind of grapefruit that weighs heavily in your hand, so replete with juice is it, and when you jab your spoon in and taste it—expecting sour—you get sweet. An unexpected burst of sugar, like a gift, but still with that tart jolt of life that those other, more saccharine fruits don’t have. It’s the kind of thing that can set the tone for your entire day, you know?
I like to cut them in half and spoon out each little section or cut them into slices and suck all the pulp and juice out using my teeth. I never peel them and eat them like an orange because that is weird.