Bitter oranges
Spanish cuisine is fantastic, better than I imagined it would be before I moved, but there are a few foods that I miss and can’t get here, like sweet corn on the cob and pumpkin pie. One I do not miss is mass-produced, homogenized orange juice. When I first tasted real Valencia oranges (not the variety of the same name that grows elsewhere) and mandarins from my grocery store in Barcelona, they tasted as sweet as candy. Many stores around the city have self-serve machines that cut and press Valencia oranges and fill an unmarked bottle with fresh juice. My kids love putting the bottle under the spout, holding down the lever, and watching the oranges move through the machine and the squeezed-out halves fall into a bin underneath. The results have to be consumed within a day or two, but the taste is divine.
Spain is the third largest exporter of fruits and vegetables after China and the U.S. and the world’s leading producer of citrus. It has a good climate for citrus and devotes a substantial amount of land to production for domestic consumption as well as foreign. Nearly half of all Europeans believe that eating seasonable, local food is part of a sustainable and healthy diet, and that’s apparent in the locality and seasonality of available produce. In Barcelona, much of the produce in grocery stores comes from nearby Lleida, a town in Catalonia known for its agriculture, and simply isn’t to be found for sale unless it’s in season.*
I’ve found that Spaniards seem to generally appreciate and take pride in the quality of produce available in their country. Why import fruits or vegetables when you can get them, recently picked, from a farm a few dozen kilometers away? A few weeks ago, Valencia native and owner of the Spanish grocery chain Mercadona was roasted on social media by former Spanish politician Pablo Iglesias (and his followers) for selling imported oranges at his stores, after Iglesias published a podcast revealing the store’s shady labor practices and importation of cheap produce that can be found locally.
During our first winter in Barcelona, I noticed scattered oranges on the ground one day on my afternoon walk to pick up my son at school. A few days later, there were more. Only then did I realize all the trees planted along the streets in my neighborhood were growing oranges. I was surprised that the fruit was in such abundance right next to residential balconies and windows (not mine, unfortunately). Yet no one seemed to be picking them. I asked a neighbor if they were edible. “Oh, they’re just bitter oranges, ornamental,” she dismissed my question. Over the rest of the winter, I noticed when ripe oranges fell to the ground, they were swiftly discarded by street cleaners.
It turns out, bitter orange is a popular choice of ornamental tree not just around Barcelona, but also in Valencia, Málaga, and many cities around Andalucía. A good choice, because they stay green year-round, have fragrant flowers, and the root growth doesn’t disturb the pavement.
This winter, when I saw the ubiquitous bitter oranges appear on the trees along my daily commute again, I wondered if anyone would find use for them. Since childhood, I’d known them as a key ingredient in mojo criollo, a typical marinade in the cuisine of my grandfather’s native Cuba. I did a little research and was thrilled to learn that the bitter oranges of Barcelona did not go to waste. “La Marga,” a local project launched in 2021 by a group called espigoladors (‘harvesters’ in Catalan), organizes volunteers to pick bitter oranges from the more than 3,300 trees in five different Barcelona neighborhoods: Gràcia, Les Corts, Ciutat Vella, Sant Andreu, and Sant Martí.
Last year, 2,650 kilos of bitter oranges were harvested, inspected, and turned into 13,000 jars of marmalade. This “solidarity marmalade” is donated to food pantries, schools, nursing homes, and other organizations that work with special needs residents all over Barcelona.
Barcelona is known for air quality problems, and concern expressed about the use of the bitter oranges for food production seems warranted. But “La Marga” ensures that all harvested fruit for their project is inspected by the Barcelona Department of Public Health before it’s deemed safe for consumption.
Another fall has come and gone in Barcelona for me without any sweet corn, but I’m glad for orange season and for the abundance of marmalade for those who need it.
*Data from CaixaBank and the European Union.