knock knock

knock knock

Knock knock.

Who’s there?


Orange who?

Orange you glad I didn’t say banana?

Gadi, Sfat, December 2007.

This is the time of year when I reunite with oranges of all shapes, forms and sizes.

My favorites? Blood oranges. They were ever-present in Italy: as desserts at the mensa (dining hall) and after dinner, or as snacks at the morning markets on a break from class.

It would also be pretty cool to make my own blood-orange juice.