Peter Miller: The Citrus Whisperer

In these days of sun and summer drinks, I am reminded of my friend Marco, who is a citrus whisperer. Now retired from teaching classics, he has been a citrus whisperer for probably fifty years, long enough that you might never notice. A citrus whisperer notices all citrus – the slices of orange in a spritz, the wedge of lime or lemon in a tonic, even the grated parts in a salad. Where there is a slice, there is also the rest, the whole.

Marco would never wrap a lemon or lime or orange in plastic wrap or tin foil. There are no partial citrus ends in his fridge, stored to keep them fresh for the next time. If two slices had come off the orange,  and the drinks had moved on, Marco would simply lay the orange on a small cutting board and cut the orange, with a good knife, into quarters. He would do the same with lemons and limes. Then he would eat them. If cut correctly, only the very rind would be left.

I first noticed this detail when Marco and I had volunteered to make a birthday dinner for probably 25 people. It was a part potluck affair and there were many children and many oranges and other fruits. We bustled along and he kept laying out small plates of perfectly cut oranges. They were a big hit with the children, a quick fruit juice. Nothing else had quite the gift, not the cheeses, or nuts or crackers or dip — wet and slightly sweet.

From then on, I had a new tack with the citrus. Use what I need to serve and eat or present the rest. You can quickly get used to a quarter slice of lemon or lime, a quick refresh. And you can make a sweet habit of eating an orange four or five times a week.

Years ago, as a high school football player, I would look forward to the cut oranges at halftime, sliced in a big bowl. Sometimes, the slices had no juice at all.  But then we somehow inherited the perfect team manager, Tyler. With humor and brains, he would research what were the best oranges for that season. Then he would cut them closely, keep them cold, and proudly serve them. He was perhaps my first citrus whisperer. Tyler went on to become one of the leading educators in America and to be the headmaster of two of the country’s best schools.

A final image is from Marlon Brando, in The Godfather, his last scene, set outside in the garden. He is sitting with his grandchildren, eating an orange. He decides to play the monster, putting the orange peel between his teeth, and chasing them, arms out. They shriek and scatter, he falls, dead from a heart attack. A hoarse citrus whisperer.