For me, Christmas just wouldn't be the same without mass quantities of mandarin oranges. If you're buying "Cuties" at the grocery store in the Northwest or elsewhere, you're missing out on the deliciousness that is a large, ripe Satsuma from the Sacramento Valley. While visiting Molly's family in Chico, a large bowl of mandarins sat in the living room for consumption throughout the day. It never emptied but I can't recall exactly how many of those delicious fruit segments I consumed over the holiday. Lounging near the fireplace, I'd toss the peels in to be incinerated at the next fire, imparting a mild citrus scent as the flames build.
And while we love mandarins, nothing quite beats our dog's fascination with this fruit. There's an unwritten rule in our house that Drifter gets at least one segment each time a mandarin orange is peeled. He stares, pants, intimidates, begs, and whines until he gets that segment - he even scratched at the gate in front of the fireplace one afternoon after Christmas to let us know he was hungry for a mandarin. At this point, I'm surprised his coat (and our skin) hasn't turned orange from the vast quantities of fruit consumed in the last week.
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Eric
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