Hey there!
A few days ago, we received a message asking what exactly does "artisanal" mean, a term we use on our website. As I was checking the orange trees at dawn, a great way to explain it came to me.
I'm going to ask you for a small favor. Let's use our imagination and visualize an orange tree with me.
Here in Valencia, I see it every day, but today I'm lending it to you for a moment.
Look closely. At first glance, it seems all the oranges are the same, neatly arranged as if they were screws in a box. Well, they're not.
Each tree is a small universe and within that universe, there are oranges that go at their own pace. Why does this happen? Because the climate dictates it, and within the tree itself, there are distinct microclimates.
I'll start with what's easiest to see. The side facing direct sunlight tans earlier. There, the fruit receives more light and heat and develops sweetness a bit sooner than its cousins on the other side, which lives more in the shade and takes its time.
It's not that that part is bad; it just needs a few more days. Just like at the beach, there are those who plant their umbrella right at the front and those who prefer their towel in the shade of the pine grove. Both enjoy themselves, but at different rhythms ☀️
Now, climb with me to the top of the tree. Up there, there's more sun and more wind. The wind cools, but it also dries and tightens, so those oranges tend to color earlier and sometimes ripen faster.
Down below, close to the ground, life is different. There's a bit more humidity at night, and the air moves less. It's a calm area where the fruit tends to fill with a lot of juice and sometimes takes a little longer to fully develop its flavor.
In summary, the upper and lower parts don't follow the same clock, and the wind, which seems like an extra, turns out to be a main actor in this tree movie 💨
With all this dance within a single orange tree, what do we do? The artisanal approach starts right here. We don't treat the tree like a factory. We don't just go, harvest everything at once, and whistle our way out. We visit the same tree multiple times.
On the first pass, we pick the oranges that are already at their peak; then we return for those on the shady side, and later for those at the bottom that have finished ripening.
It's like when your grandmother makes stew. You don't rush her. You keep peeking with a spoon until she calls you quietly and says, "Now, my dear."
And the best part. We do all of this upon order. Every morning, we check what you've ordered, go out to the fields, and harvest what's due that day, fruit by fruit, tree by tree.
Then we ship it directly from our fields to your home to offer it at a fair price. It's work we do here in Valencia and also with fellow farmers across Spain, people who care for their crops the way their grandparents did.
It's unique in our country, and I promise you can tell when you open the box and it smells like a real field 🍊
If you ever receive an orange with a slightly greenish tint or a charming freckle, don't be alarmed. It's the tree's way of telling you where it caught the sun, which corner protected it from the wind, or at what height it spent the autumn.
Behind it, there are many visits from us to the same tree and many small decisions to ensure that each piece reaches you at its optimal moment.
And I'll conclude now, the orange tree is looking at me for talking so much about it. That's what artisanal means. Following the tree's rhythm, listening to it, and returning as many times as necessary.
Not treating it like an orange factory, but as it is, a living being that works with us and to whom we must show patience and respect.
A big hug and I wish you a beautiful week.
Tomorrow at dawn, I'll return to the tree and give it your regards,
