Transport

As it's more the dead of winter than ever, here, I'll take refuge in the song Omana Penne, and fruit salad. A friend sent me the song because listening to it transports him to another place. "This song--" he said, "The whole movie has such amazing songs. I cannot even explain what paradise I go to..."

The song is from Vinnaithaandi Varuvaayaa (Will You Cross the Skies with Me is the English translation), a movie that is, itself, a series of journeys to possible worlds. We're never quite sure which world we're in, watching it. The main character, a would-be movie director, acts out what we discover is his own script, occasionally interjecting directorial comments, or changing or cutting scenes. While all movies provide an escape--one reason we watch them--this one offers multiple types of escape, on multiple levels.

So it is, or should be, with fruit salad. The authors of one of the Moosewood cookbooks--I wish I could remember which one, so I could quote and credit them properly--say that fruit salad is meant to transport diners away from the cares of the world. For this reason, they advocate cutting all citrus fruit segments out of their potentially bitter and tough membranes. I agree. A bowl of membrane-free citrus segments is a lovely gift. The care involved in its preparation benefits both giver and receiver.

I made this fruit salad from cara-cara oranges, pink grapefruit, blueberries, persimmon, mint and pistachios. On some levels, it provides a similar escape-from-winter-through-color-and-flavor to last week's kumquats. The labor of freeing the citrus fruit from its membranes provides escape on other levels.