That's not always a bad thing. The American Woman's Cook Book (ed. Ruth Berolzheimer, 1942) suggests a twist on marmalade that would probably be pretty tasty:
Carrot and Orange Marmalade would probably be pretty tasty on a fresh muffin for breakfast. A pop of tartness from the lemon, sweetness from the oranges, maybe a little crunch from the carrot....
Some of the orange-and-veggie suggestions look quite whimsical, like this flamenco-dancing feather duster from Good Housekeeping's Soups/ Salads/ Sandwiches (1971):
The recipe is pretty basic, though:
It's just chicory and oranges arranged around a bottle of salad dressing (though the dressing does have a little rum, for a bit of a kick!). It looks like whoever owned this book actually made the salad, but I only have check marks and underlines-- no comments. 😕 I wish I knew what they thought of it.
Betty Crocker's Good and Easy Cookbook (6th printing, 1974) offers a similarly simple recipe, but one that sounds way more potentially offensive:
I guess Orange and Onion Salad is for the days when you want both a fruit salad AND bad breath.
Betty Crocker also offers up a pretty orange salad:
Nice contrast from the deep green spinach to the orange oranges to the ... white cauliflower?
I guess this one is for when you want a fruit salad that will leave you with cauliflower burps for the rest of the day.
For a spring twist on oranges, The Wise Encyclopedia of Cookery (1971) suggests pairing them with asparagus:
I have a sneaking suspicion that someone made this with canned asparagus at some point. I'm sure it was a slimy, army-green delight.
This post won't be complete without an orange and bean combo, though, so here is a recommendation from Jacqueline Hériteau's The Complete Book of Beans (1978):
"This dish tastes best when the oranges and beans have a chance to marinate in the tart French dressing before it is served, so try to prepare it in advance." Sounds like good advice. I'd combine the beans, dressing, and oranges, put them in the back of the fridge, forget about them for a year or until the next time I cleaned the fridge (whichever came first), and then pitch the whole mess without even trying to figure out whether I could still identify what it was.
That's it for today! Orange you sad you read all the way to the end to find out I did use that lame pun after all?