by eating china
On the day of Chinese New Year's Eve, just as I was leaving our local produce market, a car swerved towards the curb. I noticed the car because it pulled up with a jerk just a couple of feet from a family trying to cross the road. The driver bolted from the car to a stall in front of the market. The back seat of her car was already packed with groceries. Clearly, it seemed, the banquet that evening for her large extended family, was her responsibility. She had stopped at the market for a last minute purchase. When I say, 'a car swerved towards the curb', towards is all I mean, as there remained between the curb and the side of her car, enough space for a skilled driver to manoeuvre another very compact car, such as a Mini. A couple of minutes later she rushed back carrying a potted kumquat bush bearing dozens of tiny orange fruit. She placed it on the passenger seat beside her and drove off, ether oblivious or unconcerned at the line of cars she had been blocking on the narrow street behind. I was glad I didn't feel as harried as she looked, but I was only cooking for three while she might be cooking for thirteen, including a domineering mother-in-law.
Just before Chinese New Year fruiting kumquat bushes can be seen for sale all over Taiwan. Because the ripe kumquat (cumquat) symbolizes prosperity, Chinese like to give the plants to relatives and friends. My own potted tree never seems to bear fruit at this time. This year, as we saw in the Year of the Dog (February), it was blossoming, and so we will have to wait until late April for fruit. Fortunately the prosperity faculty of kumquats applies all year round, not only to the New Year period. Supposedly. A couple of years ago, when I pointed out our tree, heavy with ripening fruit to my wife, she was nearly gleeful. We were going to have a fantastic year she announced; a year in which everything goes well, a year of great health and happiness, a year when the heavens rain great bounties down on our humble heads! That sounded ridiculous, but not so ridiculous as to prevent me making a mental note to start buying weekly lottery tickets. In the final rinse, that year did turn out relatively calamity-free, but the only real bounty I recall was an abundance of kumquats, which, ironically, my wife finds too sour to eat. Who knows, perhaps things might have been different if mental note to self regarding lottery had not been forgotten as soon as it was filed.
The kumquat plant was originally assumed to be a citrus but was later revealed to have a somewhat simpler structure than citrus and was alloted its own genus, Fortunella, after well-known Scots botanist Robert Fortune who first bought the kumquat from its native south east China to Europe in 1846.
There is something oddly amusing about the name kumquat, which derives from Cantonese, gam gwat, Just the thought of the fruit brings out the worst of puns in me: kumquat may (come what may). Unlike oranges, lemons and grapefruits, the kumquat has never really achieved mainstream market acceptance. It has remained on the fringe – a cutesy-wutesy, doll's house fruit.
The small size of the thorny evergreen kumquat plant makes it ideal for urban gardeners with limited space – which describes about 99 percent of Taiwanese urban green thumbs. The wonderful thing about the kumquat bush is that it will bear fruit more than once a year if the weather is warm enough. The fruit grows to about 3 cm (1 inch) round. With thin, finely textured peel, and tiny seeds, kumquats are normally eaten whole, peel, seeds and all. The taste runs quite tart – the peel is sweeter than the fruit itself. As far as I can tell there are two basic varieties in Taiwan: round (Marumi F. japonica Swing), and oblong (Nagami F. margarita Swing). Except at New Year when the fruit is left on the bush to ripen fully, the round type is usually sold green or semi-ripe, and is used to make kumquat tea. The oblong fruits are sweeter and are eaten ripe.
Health-wise, kumquats house a good measure of vitamin C, plus potassium, and beta-carotene. And because the fruit is usually eaten whole, there is an extra nutritional boost from the peel and seeds. According to traditional Chinese medicine, kumquat helps eliminate phlegm and is a good remedy for a sore throat or a nagging cough. Last week I happened to be down with a cold myself, and the two or three pots of kumquat tea I drank did seem helpful. Chinese pharmacies sell a traditional throat lozenge made of dried kumquat peel. According to Henry C. Lu, the fruit, prepared in specific ways is also useful in treating indigestion, whooping cough, hernial pain, ad poor appetite.
In Taiwan kumquats are also sold dried, and used to make preserves. I was once given a bottle of kumquat sauce, though I was at a total loss as to how to use it, and still am. Kumquat assumes its major role at any of Taiwan's thousands of tea shops and tea stands in the form of kumquat tea.
How to make kumquat tea
10 kumquats
Honey or rock sugar (optional)
Wash kumquats well – do not peel. Slice in half. Squeeze most of the juice from each piece into the pot, then toss the peel into the pot For a sweeter drink add some honey or rock sugar. Pour boiling water into the pot, steep for a few minutes and serve.
Resourses
http://www.hort.purdue.edu/newcrop/morton/kumquat.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cumquat
http://www.kumquatgrowers.com/what.html
http://www.phoenixtropicals.com/citrus.html
To search for cold sore excitability genes, the U researchers used linkage analysis, which traces genetic markers in families to identify regions on chromosomes that harbor disease genes. When genetic mutations are passed from parent to offspring, genetic markers near the disease gene are passed along as well. By identifying markers shared among family members, researchers can locate regions of chromosomes at what place genes responsible for disease may lie. The U of U study was the first whole- genome study...
Posted by: Home Remedy for Cold Sore | 15 April 2008 at 13:16