Tonari is what he and
my mother often called my “Uncle” Mits, our neighbor with whom we have been
bonded by land. He and Mits periodically compared notes about how
their trees were doing on their adjacent lots, former orange groves. We didn’t have a grapefruit tree, and my dad
liked having one in the morning.
Later
he showed me the label on the tree he brought home from the nursery. It was a then-new hybrid, developed as I now
know, at UC Riverside, a cross between a white grapefruit and a pomelo called oroblanco. The pomelo features make it large and very sweet;
oroblancos are true to their “white
gold” name for eating.
Once
my dad’s tree started bearing fruit and he started giving them away, his became
the grapefruit of choice among our family and friends. After you had tasted one of my dad’s, the smallish
tart ones off the large tree in my front yard just didn’t hack the breakfast
scene any longer. During the season, we would bring his
grapefruit home from Peralta Hills to Pasadena, while my own plentiful but outclassed
grapefruits found their way into marmalades, chutneys, and candied peel.
When
I landscaped my back yard three years ago, I put high priority on planting
three semi-dwarves of exactly the citrus varieties I wanted: a navel orange, a
Meyer lemon, and, yes, an oroblanco
grapefruit. The lemon started bearing
fruit the very first year. Then last
year was the first year the orange kicked in.
I was excited to see my first oranges ripening on the tree, when one
morning, much to my dismay and annoyance, I watched a squirrel scamper off with
first ripe one.
Now
this spring for the first time, my own oroblanco
is crowded with fruit, as well as with buds, ready to pop. In a few days, my backyard will have the
fragrance I love of citrus blossoms.
Maybe this is why my taste in perfume and lotions have gravitated to
citrus and floral scents.
At
the two-week mark after a treatment, I’m feeling much better. I can tell I’m back to normal again, as I’ve
regained interest in eating something besides variations of chicken soup, in
cooking at all, in poking around the garden, now in daylight-savings evening
light, to see what I could collect for dinner.
Some arugula, kale, parsley, mint, and grapefruit segments, tossed with lemon
olive oil? Some baby beets sautéed with
oranges? Some “Bright Lights” Swiss
chard and sugar snap peas in (more) soup or over pasta?
After
a couple of weeks of feeling crummy in body and soul, I’m happy to be happy
with spring springing, and the accomplishment of having my own oroblanco tree. I know; a grapefruit tree might not do much
for you, but it does something good for me.
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