The Grapefruit Eater
By Robert Lovenheim
Last year I did my good deed for the decade. I drove a cousin suffering from dementia from her home in New York City to an assisted care home in western New York State. Months later a box arrived from Florida. Her sister, out of gratitude, had sent me a box of Florida grapefruit. This was not a random thank you, but an offering steeped in family tradition. Our parents had wintered in Florida for many years and always sent the kids gift boxes of Florida grapefruits, oranges, and a special orange called a “honeybell.”
The older generation’s obsession with gift oranges goes back to their pre-depression youth where oranges and grapefruits were exotic fruits in the northeast. Kids actually got an orange in their Christmas stockings as a unique gift. Apart from the holiday, oranges were only accessible to the upper class.
Along with my cousin’s gift of grapefruits came a special serrated-edge spoon and a curved knife. The second is to carve the grapefruit section and the former to dig them out. Now I ask you, what other citrus fruit requires a special kit to eat? I was hooked. Beyond the new instruments to master, the taste at breakfast was euphoric.
To feed my new obsession I needed a constant supply of grapefruit. This is easier than it sounds. The Florida grapefruit season runs from January through March, some less accustomed would say longer. During the season, acquiring grapefruits in the Poconos is easy. Every market has the standard ruby red and sometimes offers white.
Before and after the season, grapefruit fanatics must turn to imported fruit. I’ve found South African and Peruvian ones at local markets. Given the distance it has traveled and the price, it’s still pretty good. What is the basis of grapefruit obsession? I think it starts with a parent. Much like deer hunting is passed down from generation to generation, grapefruit eating appears to follow the same pattern. If I had not observed my father eating this bitter fruit at breakfast, would I?
Let’s face it, at two for five dollars in the off-season, only those already hooked would allow themselves to indulge. And then there is the ritual aspect of a special knife to carve, and a special spoon to dissect. Now let us consider the nutritional value: two grams of fiber, vitamin C, vitamin A, potassium, thiamine. Outdoing an orange!
As I dig in with my special spoon every morning, one nagging question breaks my pleasure: am I becoming my father? Do all grapefruit eaters ask this question?
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