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Without Mom's attention to detail, D. and I found ourselves with a mix of regular and blood oranges, making for a reddish-orange and slightly more tart juice. |
"Geez, Marie... I'm dying. Do you have any orange juice or a vitamin C supplement?"
My suitemate wanted to make a last-ditch effort to fight a cold that was, from the puffy eyes and runny nose, clearly beating her. I couldn't say no, so I opened the mini-fridge in my dorm room and pulled out a water bottle that was filled with orange juice.
"What's with the Arrowhead bottle?" she asked.
"From my mom. Just drink it."
She took it to her room and we didn't speak of it again. Months later, the subject came up randomly in a conversation that was happening outside my door.
"Her mother fresh-squeezes orange juice for her!"
I believe the conversation was about how well (or not well) we were eating at school. I'd become a little infamous for the little Tupperwares of home-cooked food I'd bring back from home. My suitemate came into my room.
"That orange juice. I haven't stopped talking about it! I even called my mother and said, 'See? Marie's mom squeezes orange juice fresh!' She told me she'd give me money to buy some from the store. Do you have any idea how lucky you are?"
Every year, when juicy oranges come into their peak, my mother buys crates and squeezes fresh juice. She has her favorite type, preferring Texan Naval oranges over other varieties. She'd regale you with her thoughts on the rind's thickness, pulpiness, and juicy sweetness of various types of oranges. My father, whose lazy streak I inherited, always asked her why she'd bother squeezing orange juice when it can easily be purchased.
Like Fred and Ethel Mertz, they'd bicker about the practicality versus the unparalleled goodness of fresh squeezed orange juice. I would sit there and drink the juice.
With juice that wonderful, who wants to argue about it? Lucky, indeed.
Happy Mother's Day, Mom!
My suitemate wanted to make a last-ditch effort to fight a cold that was, from the puffy eyes and runny nose, clearly beating her. I couldn't say no, so I opened the mini-fridge in my dorm room and pulled out a water bottle that was filled with orange juice.
"What's with the Arrowhead bottle?" she asked.
"From my mom. Just drink it."
She took it to her room and we didn't speak of it again. Months later, the subject came up randomly in a conversation that was happening outside my door.
"Her mother fresh-squeezes orange juice for her!"
I believe the conversation was about how well (or not well) we were eating at school. I'd become a little infamous for the little Tupperwares of home-cooked food I'd bring back from home. My suitemate came into my room.
"That orange juice. I haven't stopped talking about it! I even called my mother and said, 'See? Marie's mom squeezes orange juice fresh!' She told me she'd give me money to buy some from the store. Do you have any idea how lucky you are?"
Every year, when juicy oranges come into their peak, my mother buys crates and squeezes fresh juice. She has her favorite type, preferring Texan Naval oranges over other varieties. She'd regale you with her thoughts on the rind's thickness, pulpiness, and juicy sweetness of various types of oranges. My father, whose lazy streak I inherited, always asked her why she'd bother squeezing orange juice when it can easily be purchased.
Like Fred and Ethel Mertz, they'd bicker about the practicality versus the unparalleled goodness of fresh squeezed orange juice. I would sit there and drink the juice.
With juice that wonderful, who wants to argue about it? Lucky, indeed.
Happy Mother's Day, Mom!
6 bites:
The color of that juice is so beautiful. I have one lone orange in my kitchen which I bought for a vinegarette, but I'm thinking I might just squeeze it and add it to sparkling water now instead. :)
thanks for your smores kit...I posted about it today!
Oh, your post is wonderful! Thank you so much!
I'm going to agree with your mom on this one: the fresh squeezed stuff rules! :)
and I'm going to agree with
Amber
f
resh squeezed juice is the bomb. Go moms! Now I feel a little guilty for not making fresh orange juice for my kids. I guess I can always start now.
I love that you admit you inherited laziness from your dad. Some of the things we inherit aren't the things to brag about, but then again...they might be. Especially if it means you get the same glass of juice in the end. Yum!