a stand at the Morro Bay Farmers' Market (KB'09)

For most of my life, the closest I wanted to get to the concept of tangerine was via a package of tropical fruit LifeSavers. I’ve always been a fan of citrus, especially oranges, but tangerines seemed not quite worth the effort. All that changed when I met the right tangerine.

I was attending a conference in Ojai (south of Santa Barbara) a few years ago in January, and one of the other participants brought in a load of tangerines, which everyone else dug into with gusto. I was, of course, offered some, and took one out of politeness. When everyone else started reaching for more and more, I figured I’d better see what all the fuss was about, and started peeling.

What I discovered was very appealing indeed. Instead of a stubborn rind, this one practically melted off. Instead of small segments with more seeds than flesh, this beauty had no seeds. Instead of tartness, this sweet tangerine left me pucker-free and wanting more. I had succumbed to a Satsuma.

No, that’s not some Middle Eastern dance or a karate move. It’s a type of tangerine, or a mandarin, depending on how you look at it. As Jim Churchill of the esteemed Churchill Orchard in Ojai describes it on his website, “ ‘Mandarin’ and ‘tangerine’ are two words for the same thing, technically Citrus reticulata Blanco. They're called mandarins because they were thought to be native to China; they're called tangerines because they were thought to have come from Tangiers. They are in fact native to southeast Asia someplace, and they did in fact come to this country from North Africa, so both origin myths are correct.”

Egads, all these years, I thought mandarin oranges were, well, oranges! So it turns out I did like tangerines after all -- as long as they were called mandarin and came packed with light syrup in a can with a geisha on it.

At any rate, the next chapters of the tangerine’s journey to our shores read like a sprawling travelogue. Various accounts trace their paths through China, England, Italy, Japan, Saigon, New Orleans, the rest of the Gulf region, California…

Whatever their route, I’m glad they arrived, and that I finally got a clue as to what they are. At this time of year, I’m munching on so many I worry that I’ll start to turn orange and look like a quick tan experiment gone horribly awry. Since the season lasts from January through June, that may yet happen, but nonetheless, I’m still looking forward to the beginning of March. That’s when the Ojai Pixies are slated to be available.

The Ojai Pixies are among the foods that have been nominated to Slow Food USA’s Ark of Taste. This assemblage is described as “a catalog of over 200 delicious foods in danger of extinction. By promoting and eating Ark products we help ensure they remain in production and on our plates.”

Well, there ya have it. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. Bring on the Pixies!

_______________________________

Unfortunately, it seems two of my favorite things – tangerines and bees – are not getting along. Okay, actually it’s the humans – the growers and the beekeepers – that are at odds of late, especially in California’s Central Valley. Seems the beekeepers like having their hives near citrus groves so the bees will produce orange blossom honey. However, the most prized tangerines are self-pollinating and therefore seedless, and it seems that when the bees get in the groves and do their thing, they create tangerines with seeds. Read the whole story here.

________________________________

And, yes, of COURSE I’m giving you the link to the official Tangerine Dream website. Techno-rock on!

________________________________

Totally unrelated to tangerines … ever wonder what people mean by the term “food porn”?  Well, this HAS to be a perfect example!