SpiceLines

Right now the kitchen is overflowing with gorgeous citrus—we’ve devoured the fresh mandarin oranges, but there are two bowls of blood oranges and Meyer lemons. A single lumpen ugli fruit is lurking next to the clementines. Yesterday B appeared with a bag of plump tangerines.

I have always loved the shocking crimson flesh of blood oranges, almost as much as the luscious sweet-tart juice. This year they are so cheap that I’ve been profligate, squeezing jugs of juice, experimenting with wickedly buttery curd and just this morning, making a snowy blood orange sorbet scented with warm spices.

I intended to do this yesterday, but instead spent the afternoon slowly losing my mind while a certain someone stretched out on the kitchen floor, for at least an hour and a half, meticulously cleaning the refrigerator coils, which, of course, hadn’t been touched in 15 years. This required the use of a leaf blower and various other tools which should never be allowed inside the house.

Naturally our creaky refrigerator is now working perfectly and my dreams of a gleaming Sub Zero are receding into the misty future.

But about the sorbet…

Blood oranges get their rosy hue--ranging from light vermilion to deep burgundy-- from a pigment called anthocyamin, rarely found in citrus, but often in other red fruit and flowers. Although it originated in Sicily, possibly in the 17th century, the orange is widely grown around the Mediterranean, as well as in California and Texas. Each of the main varieties--the Moro, the Tarocco and the Sanguinello--has a distinctive flavor.

My latest batch of Moros have been quite tart, without much of the raspberry flavor for which they are renowned. But as I poured simple syrup perfumed with cinnamon, black pepper and cloves into the juice, I made a discovery: the red berry flavor, along with that of black cherries, suddenly blossomed with the addition of sugar and spice.

Cinnamon, black pepper and clove play well with oranges, but in this sorbet you really shouldn’t detect them. Here the spices have a minor role, coaxing other fruit flavors from the citrus, pulling sweet and sour tastes together, imbuing the whole with a sultry elusive scent. I used true Ceylon cinnamon since its soft citrusy flavor seemed more appropriate than the pungent cassia we normally buy as “cinnamon.”

Ordinarily I make simple syrup with a 1:1 ratio of sugar and water. For the sorbet, however, I made the syrup a little thicker, using ¾ cup water to 1 cup sugar. Infusing was easy: I put all the spices in a little cotton steeping bag, crushed them with a rolling pin to release their pungent oils, and let them infuse the syrup for 15 to 20 minutes. (If you use cassia instead of Ceylon cinnamon, you may want to shorten the steeping time since it is considerably stronger.)

You can strain the blood orange juice if you are stickler about such things, but I made the sorbet both ways and actually prefer it with the odd filament of citrus pulp. The choice is yours.

Could anything be sweeter than eating blood orange sorbet while it snows and Barack Obama takes the oath of office?

Happy Inauguration Day!

Snowy Blood Orange Sorbet with Cinnamon, Black Pepper and Clove

Serves 4 to 6

Ingredients:

A 1-inch piece of Ceylon cinnamon
4 black peppercorns
2 cloves
1 cup white sugar
¾ cup water
1-2/3 cups blood orange juice, strained if desired
1 or 2 teaspoons lemon juice (optional)
Thin slices of blood orange for garnish (optional)

Method:

1. Combine the cinnamon, peppercorns and cloves in a small cloth bag, or tie them up in several layers of cheesecloth. Crush the spices lightly with a rolling pin to release their fragrant oils. Set aside.
2. Combine the sugar and water in a small pot over a medium flame, and stir until the sugar dissolves. Turn off the heat and add the spice bag to the syrup. Allow it to infuse for 15 to 20 minutes. Taste: The syrup should be well flavored with the spices, but not overpoweringly so. Remove the bag and let the syrup cool to room temperature.
3. When cool, combine the simple syrup with the blood orange juice. Taste: If it seems too sweet, slowly dribble in a teaspoon or two of lemon juice to increase the acidity. Go slow, however, and try to keep the flavors balanced.
4. Refrigerate until the mixture is very cold, at least 2 to 3 hours, or overnight.
5. Use an ice cream maker to freeze the sorbet. Serve at once, garnished with a thin slice of blood orange if desired.
6. If you are making it ahead, put the sorbet in the freezer, but remove it about 15 to 20 minutes before serving so that it can soften. The flavor is more vivid when the sorbet is not frozen solid.