Instructions
An orange is orange and we call it an ‘orange’. Simple. So why don’t we call a strawberry a ‘red’, or a banana a ‘yellow’?
The answer is fascinating and tells us something about history. You see the name of the fruit came centuries before the name of the colour.
Sweet oranges were first cultivated in northern India, and were widely eaten by 2000BC. Traders and travellers along the Silk Road eventually brought orange seeds back to Europe, and in time they began to create orchards. In the Sanskrit language of ancient India oranges were known as nãrañgah (pronounced ‘narr-un-jerr’) and the name stuck. It became arangia in Latin, arancia in Spanish, and norenge in old French. Skip a couple of centuries and the word ‘orange’ appears.
The orange season always kicks off with the Navel, a seedless, grafted variety from Brazil that gets its name from the umbilical-looking opening on its base. Later in winter we get the supersweet Valencia for juicing, the blood orange for desserts, the Satsuma for snacking, and the bitter Seville for marmalades.
While the flavour of orange juice can be powerful, the real punch is in its skin or zest. This is packed with highly-perfumed essential oil glands designed to protect the fruit from disease. You see not only is the skin a great culinary asset, orange oil has natural anti-fungal and anti-bacterial properties. In fact, gardeners have for centuries used orange peel as a natural slug-repellent to protect their prized flowers.
The orange trees give us more than just the fruit. Orange blossoms are delicately fragrant and can be used fresh to steep into syrups or desserts, or dried to add to your favourite tea. Earl Grey tea gets its unique aroma from the dried petals and skin of the Italian bergamot orange.
But one question still plagued me. Oranges were grown in Europe from the time of Christ, and in Britain by the 12th century. Yet the use of ‘orange’ to describe a colour between red and yellow did not emerge until the 1540’s. So, what did we English speakers call the colour orange before we called it ‘orange’? With great thanks to Bruce at the Australian National Dictionary Centre I can report that it was known as ‘geolu-read’ (yellow-red) or ‘tenne’ (tawny). This compromise would hardly do for such a fine colour. In short, thank heavens for Indian fruit because this poor colour was desperate for a name of its own.
Orange Créme Brulee