For someone who really enjoys a good mandarin, I don't ever buy them.
Nervous, after wasting dollar after dollar on sub-par mandarins from the grocery store, I know just live the season out without buying a single one.
Luckily, once a year, if I time it well, I can visit my Aunt on Tamborine Mountain and collect these palm-sized mandarins.
And once you have tasted perfection, you can never go back.
I visited a few weeks back and when I tumble my bounty into the platter at home, their skins glistened with remnant raindrops.
It looked like this...