Our family history goes back at least 4,000 years, when we were already well established in the south of China, and the classical texts the Book of History, the Records of the Grand Historian, and The Songs of the South all record our name. During the Sung dynasty (960-1279) a man named Han Yen-chih wrote the Chulu, or A Record of the Tangerine Orange, which details our characteristics, varieties, and methods of cultivation.
It was during the K'ang Hsi era (1662-1723) of the Ching dynasty that we first came to Ilha Formosa, the beautiful island of Taiwan. Came and stayed, because the soil and climate here are just right for us. We turned out plumper and juicier than ever, and we soon became the number-one fruit on the island.
According to a 1988 government report, we tangerines rank first among fruits on Taiwan in production quantity, production value, and cultivated acreage. Besides supplying the local market, we also travel overseas to places like Hong Kong, Singapore, Malaysia, Canada, and Japan, in numbers that make us second only to bananas as an export.
Every autumn, as soon as the weather turns chilly and the leaves start to fall, we quietly turn up in stores and marketplaces, where few of our friends can resist taking us home for a taste. Actually, when we first come on the market we're not only expensive but pretty sour too. But if people have a little patience, we'll be ripe and ready around November, when we hang from our branches like golden bells flashing in the winter sunlight.
It takes us about three years to grow from a sapling to a tree of eligible age. The peak of the wedding season comes every March, when we march down the aisle decked out in gowns of lovely white blossoms, with bees and butterflies as our bridesmaids.
The glad news arrives soon after the honeymoon, but being with child is no easier for us than it is for humans. Pregnancy lasts a full seven months, and we've got to be carefully attended to--fertilized, sprayed, trimmed, and watered--if the infants are to turn out right.
Actually, we're pretty hardy most of the time--we don't need protective clothing like grapes or pears--but when delivery (harvest) time rolls around we need special pampering. The weather should be clear and fair, and the dew on our skins should already have dried away. The midwives should wear gloves and use round-tipped clippers so as not to cut our skins, and they shouldn't just grab our bodies and yank--they should hold the stems and clip. Otherwise there'll be problems in storage later.
After we've been collected together, we should be set aside for three or four days to allow us to form juice inside and decrease respiration and evaporation. After that comes a beauty contest, where we're separated by an automatic machine according to our measurements (19, 21, 25, 27, 30 cm) and then graded for looks and personality. A thorough job of classification can save labor and increase packaging efficiency for exporters and enable domestic wholesalers to rely on the label instead of picking through boxes and subjecting us to rough treatment.
Smart shoppers know that when we're in season the sweetest ones among us have thick skins and protruding bellybuttons (bases), but that when we've been stored the ones to look for have thin, glossy skins and flat stomachs.
The reason they store us is supply and demand. If we flooded the market all at once we'd go down in price, so storing not only lengthens our selling season but raises our price.
Our sleeping quarters must have good drainage and be properly controlled for moisture and temperature. When the time comes to bed down, we slip into our pyjamas and nestle down quietly in our crates, knowing that when we wake up we'll be more precious than ever.
We're especially popular at Chinese New Year, when we're given as presents to children or displayed on a table in the shape of a pyramid. Chinese people think we're auspicious because their name for us (chu) sounds similar to their word for good luck (chi). They see our round shape as representing family unity and our gold color as rare and precious.
I've been in China for a long time, and Chinese people are my best friends. I've even inspired a lot of poets. One of my favorite descriptions comes from "Eating Tangerines" by Li Kang of the Sung dynasty:
Yellow gold the outer skin,
the pulp a pearly white;
filled with nectar, storing deep
a savor rich and ripe.
When broken open on a plate,
they seep a liquid dew;
when bitten into, all at once
they burst with luscious juice.
Aroma, flavor, luster, taste,
each a rare delight.
Compared with these all other fruits
are scarcely worth a bite.
Li Kang was a real connoisseur and knew how to appreciate my finer qualities. Unfortunately, friends like him are few and far between. Everyone's in a big hurry these days. They polish me off in a few bites, and I'm down in their stomachs before I've really been savored!
[Picture Caption]
Flashing golden in the sunlight, we can't wait to visit your home for the New Year.
Tangerines this year are plentiful and high in quality. Each of these could take part in a Miss Tangerine contest.
A dying person leaves behind his name, a tangerine its peel.
Dried tangerine peels may not look so pretty but they flavor with age.
The Cantonese turn orange peeling into a fine art.
Fresh and juicy, for just NT$15 a pound--is that a bargain or isn't it?
Tangerines make auspicious companions on festive occasions. (photo by Wang Wei-chang)
Come on everybody! Strike a pose for the camera!
Flashing golden in the sunlight, we can't wait to visit your home for the New Year.
Tangerines this year are plentiful and high in quality. Each of these could take part in a Miss Tangerine contest.
A dying person leaves behind his name, a tangerine its peel.
Dried tangerine peels may not look so pretty but they flavor with age.
The Cantonese turn orange peeling into a fine art.
Fresh and juicy, for just NT$15 a pound--is that a bargain or isn't it?
Tangerines make auspicious companions on festive occasions. （photo by Wang Wei-chang）
Come on everybody! Strike a pose for the camera!
