For the past several mornings now, we've been enjoying a breakfast of oranges fresh off the tree, still cold from the night. Pick as needed.
These fabulous oranges (They're either Cara Cara or Summer Navel; I must do research) peel, intact, away from the rind as you bite into a sliced section, so you get all the fiber and juice in your mouth and none of the pith. (Because who wants pith in their mouth?) They're not super-juicy, so you feel like you're getting a good, chewable bite. Filling, even.
Yesterday we embellished the plate with a small dish of local ricotta cheese. It was nice, in a Creamsicle way, but not necessary.
The oranges are the star. Don't need some pale, bland starlet stepping on lines.
Behold, an ocean of orange waves and orange bergs.
UPDATE: I believe the oranges are Summer Navels, as I originally suspected. Turns out Cara Caras have a pink flesh, and my babies are orange, like the name says.