Please forgive me if I've bored you with my orange love. Man, I didn't know I had it.
See, we moved to a new home with an orange tree in the backyard. Big deal.
Just before he left, the previous owner (who had grown up here) told me these were the tastiest oranges he'd ever eaten. Big deal.
I didn't get it.
Until winter, when the huge, lustrous orbs surged into ripeness.
They really were the tastiest oranges, and they needed using.
I went nuts for orange zest. It went into everything.
We used orange juice mainly for mixing with soda water for drinks.
I admit quite a few oranges were eaten out of hand.
But some sort of preserving was needed.
Soon I will be making candied orange peel, "creamsicle" ice cream, and a bit of marmalade.
For now, I've put up a jar of confit of orange slices, based on an idea Sam filched from the LA Times. The original recipe uses Meyer lemons. Aha, sayeth we rich in oranges. We can mimic that. It's nothing more than thin slices simmered in olive oil very slowly over low heat, for about an hour.
And it's lovely. If you look at Sam's sandwich it seems to be topped with a poached egg (but it's a slice of cheese). Inspired, undaunted, I topped some lightly buttered toast with confit of orange slices and a poached egg. Underneath the egg I judiciously sprinkled salt and some dried habanero flakes, just a bit, and boy was that tasty.
I have leftover orange slices in a jar that won't last forever. No problem, I don't intend to wait that long.