Believe it or not, when I hear these words I usually dash out the front door of the house and chase down the moving white pickup truck for a bag of these blackened oranges (naranja is orange in Spanish). The woman sitting in the back of the truck yells, “naranjas! naranjas!” while her companion drives. They pass by our house at least once a week selling their truckload of Santa Cruz island-grown naranjas. While they may not appear very tasty, they are a close runner-up to the sweetest, most delicious oranges I have ever tasted, not to mention you get ten for a dollar. The San Cristobal island-grown naranjas are the best and don’t look much different.