Oranges and Christmas go together like red and green

Come Christmas morning my stocking always had a big bulge where my toes would go if I were to actually put the stocking Grandma Mary made on my foot. An orange would manage to maneuver past the mittens, lip gloss and Avon cologne and settle there.

I still associate Christmas with oranges. Giving oranges to friends and loved ones dates way back; while oranges are commonplace today, they were considered luxury items until well into the last century.

There's much to love about oranges. The bright orange skin, or zest, offers aromatic oils and the juicy flesh is rich in vitamins and fiber. Even the spongy pith, which most of us avoid, contains healthful flavonoids and antioxidants.

Today, Santa still fills my family's stockings with oranges (and sometimes clementines).

Should you find a bulge in your stocking Christmas morning, consider making candied zest with this recipe from the American Institute of Cancer Research.

With a vegetable peeler, remove 4 strips of zest, each 1 inch by 3 inches, from an orange. Into a heavy saucepan over medium-high heat, place the zest, ¼ cup sugar and ½ cup water. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer 10 minutes or until the zest looks translucent and shiny. Use a fork to remove it to a wire rack to dry 8 to 24 hours.

With a sharp knife, cut the candied zest crosswise into thin strips. Use to garnish desserts or cocktails.

Gianormous orange: That's how my son described the fruit I set down on the cutting board.

Gianormous, yes. Orange, no. Pomelo. Huh?

Maybe you've spotted the pale green skin in the produce section. Looking like a grapefruit on steroids, pomelos, the largest fruit in the citrus family, are native to Malaysia and are cultivated in California and Israel. According to Wikipedia, they can grow to be as large as a foot in diameter and up to 25 pounds. The one I picked up was about the size of a cantaloupe; I can't imagine it fitting in anyone's stocking.

The rind is very thick but soft, and it seems like there's more pith than fruit. The flesh in mine was pinkish, but some can have light yellow fruit. Flavorwise, I expected something bolder from such a big fruit. The taste was not as tart as a grapefruit, not as sweet as an orange.

You definitely want to cut the sections from the thick membranes, so I think pomelos would be better for salads than for eating on their own.

Bubbly soup: Chances are you plan to buy a couple of bottles of champange or sparkling wine for holiday festivities. Pick up an extra bottle so you can make Onion Soup With Champagne, Port and Camembert from Beth Hensperger and Julie Kaufmann's "Not Your Mother's Slow Cooker: Recipes for Entertaining" (2007, Harvard Common Press, $18.95). That's right -- it cooks in a crockpot, allowing you to finish last-minute shopping or clean the house for guests.

Place 3 tablespoons butter in a medium or large slow cooker, cover and cook on high until the butter melts. Thinly slice 4 large white onions; add to butter and toss to coat. Cover and cook on high until the onions are dark brown and caramelized, but not burned, about 8 to 9 hours.

Add 3 cups beef broth, cover and cook on high for 15 minutes. Add 3 cups dry Champagne and 3 1-inch rounds of Camembert cheese (remove rinds first); cover and cook another 10-30 minutes, or long enough to melt the cheese into the soup. Stir the soup to mix in the cheese.

In a medium bowl, whisk together 3 eggs and ¼ cup Port. While whisking, ladle about a cup of the hot soup into the egg mixture. Then, while whisking the soup in the slow cooker, pour in the egg mixture. Stir until slightly thickened. Cover and cook for 10 minutes. Serve immediately with crusty bread. Serves six.

-- Deborah Pankey