The Most Beautiful Oranges in the World : Citrus: The flesh is attractively mottled with red, the juice is beautiful, and the flavor is unusually complex, both sweet and sour and very aromatic.

In the Middle Ages, the orange was a precious rarity in Northern Europe, a sign of wealth and a symbol of luxury. Of course, the orange known then was the Seville, or bitter, orange ( Citrus aurantium ) -- wonderful for cooking, but too sour to eat out of hand.

The sweet orange ( Citrus sinensis ) arrived in Europe from China in the mid-17th Century. It was an immediate hit and was soon introduced to Florida and California. Still, until quite recently, oranges were expensive. An eating orange was the crowning sweet of Christmas: fleeting and special, in every sense a treat.

Now sweet oranges are an expensive staple, flooding the markets year-round in considerable variety. There are juice oranges such as Valencias and Parson Browns, and Temples and Navels for eating out of hand, and a myriad of lesser varieties: tangelos and tangerines. All of them delicious and all too often taken for granted.

Blood oranges, on the other hand, are still scarce, expensive and worth seeking out, precious to us now in just the way all oranges used to be. The flesh is attractively mottled with red, the juice is beautiful, anywhere from cherry pink to a deep carmine, and the flavor is unusually complex, both sweet and sour and very aromatic.

Choosing and Using Blood Oranges

The fruit should be heavy in the hand (an indicator of juiciness) and there should be no soft spots. Size will vary, but even the largest are no more than medium-sized compared to large Valencias or Navels. Though darker-skinned fruits generally do have darker flesh, this indicator is not absolute, and different oranges from the same bin may vary markedly. As this variation is part of the charm, it’s nothing to worry about.

Somewhat more worrisome is the fact that most of the blood oranges available are imported, and all, except an occasional back-yard orchardist’s fruit, are raised and prepared for shipment by conventional methods. Imported fruit is far more likely than domestic to carry pesticide residues; and just about all conventional citrus, regardless of origin, is treated with fungicides and waxed. These additions remain on the peel, which would be fine except that the peel is a delicious flavoring agent. There’s nothing to do but buy organic when possible and wash thoroughly but gently with warm water, regardless.

Most blood oranges are seedless, or nearly so, and most types have comparatively tender membranes, making blood oranges good candidates for those dishes in which the fruit is sliced across, rather than sectioned. If a recipe calls for orange sections, you may find that the fruit is so tender it collapses as you work. You can fix this by putting the peeled oranges in the freezer just long enough to become firm without actually freezing.

Their slightly acid edge makes blood oranges good companions for fish, rich meats such as pork, duck and lamb, and for sweet root vegetables such as parsnips, beets and carrots. Sections look beautiful on top of custard tarts; slices make an especially lovely version of ambrosia, the layered orange-and-coconut dessert that was once so common in the Deep South.

For a quick, dressy main dish, saute strips of chicken breast with lengths of green onions and snow peas, season to taste with ginger, garlic, hot pepper and tamari, then add a handful of blood orange sections and crown with a sprinkling of chopped toasted almonds. To honor artichokes and asparagus, make a Maltaise mayonnaise, using a favorite recipe, substituting blood orange juice for lemon juice and using twice as much. In menu parlance, “Maltaise” now means anything with orange, but it once signified blood orange in particular. Blood oranges make wonderful salads, with onions, with spinach, with cooked beets. And a plate of sliced blood oranges, lightly dressed with olive oil and pepper, sprinkled with oil-cured black olives, is an appetizer to be reckoned with.

A combination of parsnips and blood oranges gives this soup its special character. The flavor is spicy, slightly flowery, indefinable, the color a very pale coral pink. Although it tastes very rich and creamy, there is no cream in this recipe; the soup gets its suave texture from pureed vegetables and rice. The whole production is quite lean and low-calorie, but there is a small amount of butter to bind and bring out the flavors, to round the spiciness of the parsnips and cut the sharpness of the citrus. (If you want to see why totally fat-free cuisine will never fly, try making and taste-testing two batches of this soup, one with the butter and one without.)

SPRING CORAL SOUP

2 tablespoons butter

1 large onion, finely diced, about 1 1/2 cups

Coarsely shredded zest 1 blood orange

1 pound parsnips, peeled and sliced 1/4-inch thick

1/4 teaspoon ground coriander

3 cups homemade chicken broth

1 cup water

2 tablespoons white rice, preferably basmati

Juice and pulp from 2 medium blood oranges, about 3/4 cup

Salt

1 blood orange, thinly sliced

Thin slices French bread, toasted crisp

Melt butter in heavy, non-reactive kettle over medium heat. Add onion and cook, stirring often, until translucent and thoroughly tender, about 10 to 15 minutes.

Stir in orange zest and cook until fragrance is released. Add parsnips, coriander, broth, water and rice. Bring liquid to simmer. Cover pan and continue cooking over very low heat until parsnips are completely tender, about 50 minutes.

Puree soup, return to kettle and add orange juice. Cook over low heat, stirring often, about 5 minutes. Season to taste with salt. Transfer to warmed bowls, float slice of orange on each and serve at once, accompanied by toast. Makes 6 servings.

Note: In place of homemade chicken broth and water, you may use 2 cups canned chicken broth and 2 cups water.