I have an important tradition I like to uphold: every winter storm, I like to eat citrus fruit. Sumo oranges are typical, but lemons and limes will suffice too. I started this tradition when I was a visiting scholar at Syracuse University. Being in Central New York and close to Lake Ontario, winter storms happen. A lot. It starts snowing in October and doesn’t stop until May. Temperatures plummet and the wind sucks the very soul from your body. Mab, the Fairy Queen of Winter, rules supreme there for a good portion of the year.
Despite winter’s icy grip, citrus is plentiful. Walk into any grocery store, and you will find mountains of fresh, high quality citrus. Indeed, because of the Alchian-Allen Effect, these citrus are often of higher quality in New York than they are in Florida! And so, whenever a storm was predicted, I’d get some citrus, snuggle up with my cat, and enjoy watching the storm howl from my window, safe and warm from the Winter Queen’s wrath (pictured below is the view from my apartment in one such storm).
Of course, some readers may dismiss my story here as commonplace. True. But that is exactly the point! The fact that tropical fruits, unknown to Central New York for millennia, are commonplace even in the dead of winter is a miracle. It is a miracle of human cooperation: Sumo oranges, developed in Japan, grown in Florida (or some other tropical location), picked and transported thousands of miles to an icy climate just so little ol’ me could enjoy them. Untold multitudes spanning the globe coordinating with each other. And it is commonplace! Thanks not to the central or industrial plans of some ideologue who thinks he knows what’s best, but due to the invisible hand of the market.
So, to celebrate this miracle, I enjoy oranges whenever there is a winter storm. Ever since I moved to Louisiana, those celebrations have been significantly more limited. But as I write this, a significant storm is set to hit (“significant” for the area. 3-5 inches of snow predicted in an area that gets a coating of snow once a decade). But traditions must be upheld. I have a Sumo orange waiting for me; a sweet, citrusy defense against Winter’s wrath.
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