Satsuma Me

I’ve eaten gator, and turtle and squirrel, and carp, and possum, and coon; but, of that list the only curious thing eaten here was gator. And, I don’t think breaded and fried on a stick with 14 different spices at a booth at the Breaux Bridge Crawfish Festival is an exacting way to neither judge alligator nor consider it unusual and exotically treated. But the point I set out to make was really about eating unusual and exotic which brings me back to the Satsuma.

Dramatic pause, I am waiting for the chorus of heavenly voices to quite before I continue. Yes, the Satsuma the jewel of Louisiana, found elegantly displayed at every Farmers Market and touted for its heavenly taste, both sweet and tart at once, from Grand Isle to Ruston. It’s delicate sweetness, enveloped by a bright tartness, its fragrant aroma. Sincerely the poets wax lyrically in odes to the Satsuma, brought from Asia and nurtured lovingly by a devoted citrus grower now to be revered by all who plant, grow and share this jewel.

I say, are you serious! For me the Satsuma has been pimped by the southern office of Madison Avenue. For me it is no sweet talked up jewel. Drinking the kool aid, when I first heard about the Satsuma, I bought a huge bag. Fail, but I was undaunted I knew the jewel resided there so I tried again and again and again to experience the fairy tale I was sold. Instead I encountered a beautiful, puckery, and limited on sweet, piece of citrus. Now I am not discounting the romantic history of the Satsuma, nor the predilection for a regional favorite, but for me, I’ll stick to my California Navel Orange with its sweet, sunny swag until something else prevails.

I will be sitting, in the meantime, on the Crown Stone.

Though historically the Mason/Dixon Line is the demarcation of the Eastern part of the United States that would remain  free states and the Southern part of the United States that would be slave states, in popular culture the Mason/Dixon line is that empirical boundary that separates the North from the South and for my soul stirrings, from the West as well.

Crown Stones are markers placed at every fifth mile of the Mason Dixon Line bearing the family coat of arms of the state it faced.