Guest Author!

Please welcome the first-ever guest author to my blog; my godmother, aunt, and friend, Donna Crowe! Donna is a screenwriter and blogger; follow her at; 

www.MsToyWhisperer.Wordpress.com

&

@MsToyWhisperer on Twitter.




Orange You Glad You Asked?

I didn’t realize I was passionate about fruit until I learned my niece wasn’t. Fruit is naturally packaged and often, ready-to-eat. Just polish an apple to enjoy every snapping juicy bite, peel a banana for an instant breakfast or rinse a few grapes for a polyphenol-rich snack.

This oldest niece, Melissa, recently visited one summer night. I offered her some fresh pineapple chunks, leftover from morning breakfast. I learned she didn’t like pineapples - or watermelon. Bananas weren’t a particular favorite either. I was surprised they were all dislikes since she has a healthy diet, appreciates vegan food, and doesn’t eat sweets.

Bing! Melissa finally settled in with a few cherries instead.

She did also mention her love for peaches. If they are peeled. When she said that, I thought she was referring to canned peaches. Melissa explained that she liked the fresh fruit but removes the fuzzy skin; otherwise, the first bite is an off-putting taste of hair.

Don’t even get her started about oranges!

I quickly jumped in to defend my favorite fruit. First of all, oranges are the perfect size, whether as small as a baseball or as large as a softball. Perfect for tossing between my hands, left-to-right, right-to-left, before settling in for a healthy, sunshine-invoked treat.

Oranges are delicate inside and need care and precision to peel. Each attempt requires thought and strategy. If the orange is smaller, with thin outer skin, the first nail puncture must be quick and shallow, peeling away the zest piece by piece, so none of the sweet natural fruit juices are lost along the way. If the rind is dense, Sunkist thick, half a thumb can be injected to start a more competitive peeling process. Ideally, a deep rind can be artfully peeled away in only one big piece.

With the naked fragile fruit exposed, it’s two thumbs of light pressure to split the sphere in half. The protective pith amazingly keeps the delicate fruit intact. Pulling out the stringy center core is oddly gratifying. The final step to a wedge-by-wedge snacking sensation.

I didn’t have any oranges in the house that night but Melissa and I did have a fast, loud, simultaneous debate about our orange points of view.

I do know I can feed her carrots or broccoli if she ever comes over for dinner. Peppers that are green are also a go. I stopped asking about vegetables there though, lest she have an aversion to cruciferous Brussels sprouts.









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