Size does matter. When it comes to cutting up fruit for a macedonia you want perfect tiny cubes of fruit combined in every spoonful. My first macedonia consisted of the simplest fruit, readily available; peeled apple, naked orange and banana, doused with some good quality orange juice. Sounds simple, is simple to make, tastes divine. So, what are naked oranges you ask? Oranges without any pith. Simply guide a sharp knife along each of the ends so that the fruit stands flat, then slice down to reveal the bright fruit, removing the pith along with the outer skin. Finally, insert your knife between each segment to release it, before chopping it into tiny bits. The reason for adding the orange juice is to keep the other fruits from oxidizing, with the added benefit of keeping yourself from oxidizing – hence oranges are just another antioxidant - hoorah!
In Italy macedonia is frequently doused in sweet liquor. Not my favorite, but freely indulge your inner lush, taking this simply divine dessert to another level. Other dressings include lemon, wine or sweetener – such as dastardly sugar. I find that the orange juice does the trick in bringing out the sweetness without drowning the simple fruit flavours.
Shel Silverstein has written an ode to Italian food that exploits the beauty of the language. But unlike all the pasta names included in his poem, this macedonia is guaranteed not to split your jeani.
Oh, how I love Italian food.
I eat it all the time,
Not just ’cause how good it tastes
But ’cause how good it rhymes.
Insalata, cremolata, manicotti,
Shrimp francese, Bolognese,
Fried zucchini, rollatini,
Fettuccine, green linguine,
Oops—I think I split my jeani.