I'm taking the liberty of assuming it is afternoon wherever you are...a huge leap of faith, but we all must make one at some point and I'm taking the plunge early. Today we'll be taking a short but sweet look at blood oranges. Blood oranges, you ask? Why, yes. Yes, indeed, blood oranges.

In the lovely U.S. of A, blood oranges were not something that I came across. At all. I'm sure that they're found in the right markets at the right times for significantly more than the right price, but none of those qualifiers ever crossed my path and I was blood orangeless until I arrived in Europe. I was in an Italian supermarket last February and bought some harmless, normal looking oranges. I did all the things that you must do in Italian supermarkets: I weighed them, punched in the correct number, got my sticker, paid the cashier with exact change, and put them in the "busta" that I had bought. All well and good, yes?
When I arrived back at the ranch, however, I realized that something was wonderfully amiss. I cut open one of my newly purchased oranges and, low and behold, it had VEINS. RED VEINS. The things was practically alive with red...juice?...trickling out of it. Even though it seemed to put me teetering on the edge of cannibalism, I took a bite and fell head over heels in love. I've been eating blood oranges in copious amounts ever since.
The only details that keep me from delighting in them year-round are
the following: 1) I am not in the

Til next time!
Eat one for me! Blood orange juice--now that is spectacular too. I laughed at the busta that you BOUGHT :) love you!
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