For some reason I have thought that kumquats were like quince – that is, inedible unless cooked or processed somehow. Wow, was I wrong! A week or so ago in Chinatown (and oh how enriched is a city with such a place) I chanced on some tiny sugar oranges and purchased a handful. Delicious. The lady who sold them to me said I would be back for more, told me she ate one and then she ate nineteen more. Well, she was right. I went back for more. This time there seemed to be two piles of them, side by side, one pile brighter and shinier. A seller saw me puzzling over them and said, "Try them. Take one and try it." "Is it a different kind of sugar orange?" I asked, then saw the sign saying Kumquats. In the meantime the nice Chinese man was indicating in that universal communication of hand motions how one would wipe off a kumquat and pop it in one’s mouth. "You don’t peel it!?" I asked. "No, no," he assured me. I bought three. When I got home I ate one. And then ate the other two. I possibly could have eaten nine more, if not nineteen. They are delicious. The essence of orange. Which lingers on the palate in a chummy sort of way. A small pile is now on my counter.