Thank goodness for blood oranges (because these grey skies are doing my head in)

Blood oranges are heaven-sent at a time of year when the dominant colour palette is grey with splodges of brown. They arrived in local stores last week, perfect timing for our food show on Suffolk Sounds. We ate sliced blood oranges on air, scattered with Tajín Clasico, a favourite way to dress them which I wrote about here.

Talking of local stores, ours came from Phoenix Grocers in Felixstowe en route to the studio. Felixstowe is fortunate to have two independent greengrocers on one street alone. My town, Bury St Edmunds, no longer has one after the closure of Richard Partridge Green’s fruiterer and greengrocers shop on the corner of St Andrew's Street South and Risbygate Street in 1998. A lovely central door opened onto the street corner, framed on both sides by windows filled with displays of fruit and vegetables. Richard’s store shelves were lined with curios and prints of old Bury. He seemed very creative.

Indy greengrocers are flexible. If you need just one apple (for example) it feels a bit weird to go into a supermarket and queue at a till with your lone purchase. When you are on a small budget you don’t want to be reminded of this every time you shop. The relentless abundance in every direction feels like a taunt but being able to drop by the greengrocer where the abundance is limited to what will fit in their (usually) small space feels manageable and approachable. There’s time to chat if you want to and a decent grocer will be able to answer questions. Try asking a supermarket assistant what you might do with celeriac and see how far you get. These interactions are emotionally important. Nigella wrote about this for the Sunday Times:

‘For me, a weak tie adequately describes that loose link I have with people with whom I might do no more than exchange pleasantries: the Ocado delivery van driver (and yes, I do know I’m a middle-class cliché) or the person I see regularly sitting outside the café that I pass on the way to the corner shop or chemist. Neither could be said to be a relationship, but both form part of the network of importantly inconsequential communications that make me feel like a human in the world, rather than a mere isolated individual.’

So I was pleased to hear that an existing business in town, Kitchen Kave, is applying for permission to reopen as a greengrocer in its existing premises. The story is in Suffolk News:

‘Owner, Jay Palfrey, says he is hoping to relaunch the shop after a refurbishment, as a greengrocer… Kitchen Kave, which has been popular with shoppers over the last 13 years, is set to shut up shop at the end of February….. Jay said the shop will close for around a month after the sale ends. He is hoping to reopen as a greengrocer at the end of March.’

---

A Greengrocer’s Tale.

The brilliant Lucy Antal and her grocery bus.

Mr Okra is hugely missed in New Orleans. This documentary is wonderful.

---

Why I hate the term ‘blush oranges’.

Waitrose has re-branded blood oranges as ‘blush oranges’, which sounds like something Hyacinth Bouquet might dream up. I hate it. We don’t call Bloody Mary’s ‘Blushing/Blush Mary’s. So customers ‘might’ be deterred by the word ‘blood’? I don’t understand this logic; on Halloween, stores are filled with party food called ‘slime’, ‘pus’ and ‘snot’. ‘Blush orange’ is confusing too. Have these supermarkets ever seen a human blush? It looks nothing like the flesh of a blood orange!

---

What else can you put on your blood oranges?

Pinches Salt is a West Suffolk-based company that makes hand-blended salt mixes. Try their lime and chilli, rosemary, lemon or an intriguing medley of paprika, cumin seed and black pepper

Smoked salt or seaweed salt from Cornish Sea Salt

Halen Môn celery salt (go easy with this)

Togarashi (Japanese blend of red chilli peppers, Sichuan peppercorns, dried orange peel, sesame seeds, ginger, and seaweed)

Maldon chilli sea salt

Dorset Sea Salt Co fennel-infused salt

Ground White Sarawak pepper

Tapenade (a herbed paste made from black olives and capers)

Grated dried salted plum

A sprinkling of Korean Gim (a blend of black sesame seeds, shredded roasted seaweed, perilla oil and salt)

Olive oil (look for a peppery, grassy, spicy one)

Dukkah

Grated chilli chocolate

---

Other writers on the subject:

One of the most evocative writers on blood oranges is Rachel Roddy who writes for the Guardian Feast and has published three cookbooks. This extract is from her blog:

‘Even though they are blood oranges, they might not be bloody. Each orange is a surprise, anything from yellowy-orange to bleeding scarlet. I like the surprise. I also like the way the natural oil in the zest sprays as you tear the peel – if you bring a flame close it crackles like a sparkler – and the flesh, firm and sweet’- Rachel Roddy

‘I particularly enjoyed reading her description of the migration of oranges in the same piece:

‘from China through India to Persia before they were brought to Europe along with spices, silk and sugar by Arab traders at the end of the Roman empire. The evolution of the name is just as engaging, from the Dravidian Indian, narayam, which means perfume within, to the Persian narandj, Spanish naranja, Portuguese laranja, which the Italians softened to arancia and the French and English, orange.’

Samuel Goldsmith’s Blood Orange Upside Down Cake.

Michael Procopio’s Antidepressant Salad from his newsletter, Spatchcock, is packed with roasted beets, oranges, and hazelnuts in a cider vinegar, mirin and maple syrup dressing.

Ivana from Bluesky: ‘Apart from just eating them as they are, a beetroot and blood orange salad from Oliver Rowe's book. Fairly simple, with a mustard dressing, red onion and marjoram (oregano in this pic because I could not get my hand on marjoram), is a lovely combination.’ She makes a lovely Kohlrabi salad with blood orange and red onion too.

Rachel Roddy’s fennel, orange and onion salad

Nigel Slater’s recipe for baked feta with blood oranges

Edd Kimber’s double cream blood orange white chocolate pound cake is insanely pretty with a white and blood-orange coloured stripey glaze. There’s a recipe for candied blood orange finger buns on his Substack. Or try his blood orange jaffa cakes.

Use blood orange juice in Isabel’s carne asada recipe.

Nigella’s blood orange and passionfruit pavlova.

Yasmin Khan’s lemon pomegranate passion cake but with blood oranges instead.

Claudia Roden’s orange and almond cake.

A salad of small black olives scattered over thin wheels of blood orange and icy anise-scented fennel shards is quick and easy. Douse it with olive oil.

My recipe for torrijas with blood orange syrup.

Helen Graves's recipe for pork cheeks with blood orange and chipotle is wonderful.

Anna Jones's warm sticky blood orange and kale salad uses sherry vinegar, almonds, and honey in a Spanish-style salad.

Ottolenghi’s seared duck breast with blood orange and star anise.

Use them to make Kheer, an Indian and Pakistani rice pudding flavoured with cardamom. Or infuse the milk you use for an English rice pudding with their zest.

José Pizarro’s recipe for leche fritas with caramel blood oranges. Leche frita was, he says, first made by nuns in northern Spain to raise money for their convents and was traditionally made at Easter. Milk, egg yolks, sugar, cornflour and spices are gently heated, cooled, sliced and dipped into beaten egg, and flour then fried and dusted with cinnamon.

Drinks:

Make blood orange margaritas or Palomas.

Try a blood orange sgroppino, a Venetian cocktail made with prosecco, vodka and lemon sorbet. To make the blood orange sorbet place 100g caster sugar and 500ml blood orange juice in a pan. Heat gently until the sugar has dissolved, then simmer for a minute. Cool completely then sieve into a bowl. Freeze until needed. If you don’t have an ice cream machine, pour it into a freezable container and give it a really good stir every couple of hours until frozen. On Bluesky, PlanetMatt uses them in pimms.

Use blood oranges in Sauce Maltese.

Candied blood orange chips with Maldon sea salt and fennel by Nik Sharma where a simple sugar syrup is infused with fennel seeds and used to ‘cook’ slices of blood orange which are then dusted with salt and dried off in the oven. If you love to decorate cakes or cocktails glamorously, these are perfect for the job.

Cookbooks:

Citrus: Recipes That Celebrate the Sour and the Sweet by Catherine Phipps was published in 2017 and is an indispensable guide to cooking with all kinds of citrus fruits. Inside, you will find plenty of specific blood orange recipes but you could experiment with blood oranges instead of lemons, or other varieties of orange (one caveat here: Seville’s are used for their very specific flavour in certain recipes so don’t replace them), and even limes.

(Blood orange and cardamom tarte tatin, blood orange and rhubarb meringue pie, blood orange and rosemary jelly, blood orange, burrata and freekeh salad, blood orange hollandaise, blood orange, pomegranate and hazelnut meringue cake are just some of the recipes in Citrus.)

feast your eyes on this glorious cover

I cannot ignore the fact that it is also marmalade season. A Pot of Marmalade by Sarah Randell is a useful guide.

A special present for the citrus obsessive: J. C. Volkamer. The Book of Citrus Fruits has 170 varieties of citrus fruits illustrated in hand-coloured copper plates. It’s beautiful and dramatic but, like many Taschen books, not a bargain.

The Compleat Confectioner, Or, The Art of Candying and Preserving in Its Utmost Perfection by Mary Eales (1718) has a recipe for orange wine. You could use blood oranges.

'To make Orange Wine. Τo fix Gallons of Spring Water put twelve Pounds of ſingle refin'd Sugar , and the Whites of four Eggs well beaten ; put theſe to the Water cold ; then let it boil three Quarters of an Hour , taking off the Scum as faſt as it riſes . When it is cold put in fix Spoonsful of Yeaſt , and fix Ounces of Syrup of Lemons beaten together . Put in likewiſe the Juice and Rind of fifty large Sevile Oranges thin pared ; the Juice ſhould be ſtrained . Let all this ſtand two Nights and Days in an open Veſſel , or large Pan ; then put it into a cloſe Veſſel , and in three or four Days ſtop it down . When it has ſtood three Weeks draw it off into another Vefſel , or large Pan , and add toit two Quarts of Rhenilh or White - wine ; then ſtop it cloſe again , and in a Month or fix Weeks it will be fine enough to bottle , and ſo drink it a Month after . If you would deſire it ſhould keep put in Brandy inſtead of Rheniſh .'

You can listen to the show on catch-up until Weds 22nd Jan here.