Remember how I said I was determined to finish that 10-pound bag of satsumas? Well that was before Richard found out that that 10-pound bag of oranges he bought from a coworker's kid (school fund raiser of some kind) was actually 25 pounds of oranges. 25 pounds! 10 pounds was bad enough, but we figured Richard would probably just eat them all and I'd focus on the satsumas and we'd be fine. But 25 pounds? We are talking one whole heck of a lot of oranges for two people to get through, especially when one of those two people (that would be me) is not really a fan of oranges much at all. Add in the remaining satsumas and we are facing over 30 pounds of citrus fruit, sitting in huge orange mesh bags on the dining room table because there was no where else to put it all.
My little sister, when I poured out our orange plight to her in an email, immediately went online and searched out a whole plethora of recipes that make use of oranges. I have already put out a plea to my parents (both of whom are in Germany now!) for temporary use of their orange juicer (although if we're going to do that I have to borrow their teeny tiny strainer because pulp in juice is nasty and wrong and just the thought of that juice that so proudly announces that it has Extra Pulp makes my stomach churn). If I was determined before with the measly ten pounds of satsumas, I am even more determined now.
Someone please remind me of this in about two weeks when I never want to see another orange fruit ever again. Okay? Please?