19-Dec-04. It's that time again — when I can step outside and forage for breakfast from a tree.
My childhood memory of grapefruit is that they were sour things, eaten with the same relish that one approaches a tablespoon of cod liver oil. But then, for grapefruit to have arrived in the frozen northland back then, they must have been picked long before becoming ripe.
But grapefruit plucked ripe from the tree by one's own front door — that's different.
It is said that the best grapefruit come in alternate years, and this is supposed to be the good year. Who knows if that's so? All I know is that they are sweet and juicy. The sense of luxury that comes from knowing that no more than a minute has elapsed between picking and the plate has not gone away.
I intend to eat more than my fill of grapefruit this season. My health insurance plan has decided in its infinite wisdom that Pravachol, my cholesterol medication, has become too expensive and will be moved effective January 1 to the list of "non-preferred brand name" drugs, meaning that the price to me would double. Instead, Pravachol users are being urged — coerced, really — to switch to less expensive statins, such as Lipitor, Zocor, or the generic lovastatin.
To some extent, a statin is a statin, and switching would not be objectionable, but Pravachol is unique among the statins in that it does not interact with grapefruit. All the other statins carry admonitions not to take with grapefruit. Accordingly, I just laid in a three-month supply of Pravachol.