… but enough about me

From spring through autumn, sidewalk fruit stands are rampant in New York City. It’s great, because warmer temperatures seem to convince us to eat lighter and fresher, and I like having the options. A couple bucks can get you a light and relatively healthy lunch. I should know, I passed by enough of those stands on my way to Chipotle.

However, you can never be sure of the quality or the flavor. And you should really wash that stuff off before you munch on the go. So it’s a good idea to have some alternative reliable sources.

I could always find the best oranges at this little deli on 46th near Broadway, a couple doors down from my office. I don’t work in New York any more, however, and those oranges are among the things I miss most about my routine there. They were consistently easy to peel. And unlike the typically dull, pulpy monstrosities of grocery store fare, these had an intense flavor every time without fail. I don’t know what voodoo those shopkeepers were working. I have no idea where the fruit came from. But no matter the season, they were always awesome.

Having them there kept me from defaulting to a bagel with butter or a two-egg and cheese on a roll. (Though I miss those things dearly, too.) If they didn’t have any oranges in on a given day, I would walk right back out of the store.

So now that I work in Philadelphia, I need to find a new routine, a new source. I don’t yet know where to get a good bagel near the office, and that’s probably for the best.