The Intimacy of Citrus Fruit

Written by Evvy Blatstein

How am I meant to tell you I love you if I don’t have any oranges to peel for you? Tenderly and slowly, I peel the sticky fruit apart. First, separating the peel from the soft flesh of the fruit concealed inside. The scent of sweet citrus fills the air, making it impossible to be lonely because of the orange in my hand. Then, I split each slice with my fingers from its natural sections, taking half and giving it to you.

I save the other half for myself. If you think about it, it is almost as if this fruit were made to be shared; sometimes, I’ll pretend I am two people so I always have someone to share with.

What Makes Citrus Intimate ?

The inherent care and love that is put into peeling an orange, clementine or tangerine is what makes the fruit so special. It is instinctual and natural — a gift from the earth created just to be divided among yourself or others. It is a small labor of love to get your fingers sticky and have the citrus sting the cuts on your hands, but it all becomes worth it after taking that first stringent bite. The juice of the fruit expels from the flesh, flooding the tart taste buds in your mouth, always making you need another slice.

Intimacy does not have to be inherently sexual.

It can be a state of mind, the aura of a room or a sense of closeness — and how much closer can you get when dissecting a piece of fruit, bit by bit? This idea of citrus being intimate is not new, but it is not something often thought about. If you search hard enough, though, you can find examples of love and oranges everywhere: songs, literature and poetry.

Halves and Wholes

In the Frank Ocean song, “Golden Girl,” he says, “She peels an orange for us in the morning, she woke me up to give me half.” She, being this “golden girl” lover of his, shares an orange with him to convey that they are two halves of the same whole. Halves and wholes are a common motif of life, love and citrus. In Spanish, it is common to use the phrase “me media naranja” to reference a friend, soulmate or lover — translating to “my half-orange.”

Maybe we are all a half-soul looking for our complementary part — one half of a clementine looking to be whole again. It is an aspect of silent unification. You are tasting the same wonderful taste — experiencing one moment rather than two — the instant you eat an orange with someone. It is sanguine and uncomplicated, that is what makes it all the more beautiful. Love in its purest form is the sharing of fruit.

Platonic Love

Citrus and its intimacy are not strictly romantic. It is also a perfect representation of platonic love. The poem “Oranges” by Jean Little shows how love and friendship are exemplified through sharing an orange. The poem's narrator talks about how neatly and perfectly she can peel oranges. Her friend, Emily, struggles to separate the fruit from its peel, always making a mess. It is implied that the narrator peels Emily’s oranges for her. By the end of the poem, she hopes her dear friend never learns to peel an orange.

Citrus is not delicate, it has a tougher exterior. You can toss the fruit around, drop it on the ground, pick it up, drop it again and keep it in your pocket — the fruits do not bruise easily. They are a reflection of us in that sense. It takes effort to indulge in the sweet, tender gift that awaits on the inside. It takes work to get to know people — to get past their outer layer and earn the privilege of learning their brains, hearts and souls.

Nature ’s Little Love Letters

These little moments, like the ones represented in the poem or the song, demonstrate how special and pure it is to have someone who you can share life with. Whether you find yourself with a relative, best friend, soulmate or lover, think of these “orange sharing moments” as nature’s gift to remind us of the importance of everyday pleasures. A little love letter packed into something as ordinary as an orange.

Citrus, life and true intimacy is about loving people for their flaws, not despite them, because if everyone could peel oranges perfectly, how could you ever show someone you love them?