Sylvain takes out a plate and a sharp knife, then reaches into the large glass bowl on the coffee table and helps himself to an orange. He proceeds to peel it carefully with his knife. Once the peel is gone, he starts on the pith, which he removes meticulously until he is left with a little pile of yellow on his plate. He removes the last of the white veins from the centre of the orange.
Then, and only then, he eats the orange. Piece by pithless piece.
I grab an orange from the same bowl, and crouch beside the coffee table. I bite into the peel with my teeth, trying not to let my tongue or lips touch the acidy shower that inevitably sprays out and hits me in the nose. I pull off the peel, quickly, and rip the orange in half, chomping down on it, bit by delicious bit.
Juice drips down my chin and I wipe it off with a tissue that I find in my pocket.
I realise that Sylvain is looking at me in horror.
Lucky I have other charming qualities that endear me to him.
Not sure what they are yet, but they've gotta be in there somewhere.
I think he was just waiting until you spit out the pith and turn to him to say: "Whatcha lookin' at, mate?". :-p
...and does he quarter and peel an apple before eating it? That's something I always get caught out on. I'm always chomping away with my teeth before I realise that everyone else has their knives prone for dissection.
Although... I'm working at it slowly by subversion. I taught the kids I'm au-pairing for how to eat a mango "aussie style" the other day. The mangoes taste like crap here, admittedly, but there's still no reason you shouldn't have the juice dripping as far as your elbows. Just like slurping soup in Japan, it's all about the taste... (or so I keep telling myself!)