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Suddenly everything orange is new, again As a person raised in the era of harvest gold shag carpeting and avocado green kitchen appliances, I possess a finely tuned aversion to ugly colors. Of all the hideous hues that highlighted my 1970s youth, the most awful, of course, was orange. I still have nightmares about sherbet-colored crop tops and pumpkin-shaded short shorts, never mind the burnt-orange velvet hip huggers I bought the summer before 10th grade. So when I started seeing the stories a few months ago, the pieces touting the return of orange as a hip hue, I refused to believe it. Did you see them? The magazine articles and TV fashion shows that garbed brave models in clothes the color of carrots? They even gave the old shade new names -- "persimmon" and "flame" and "antique brick," hoping to hide the fact that it was still orange, orange, orange. At first, I pooh-poohed the trend. Not even nostalgia could resurrect a shade that looks so bad on so many, I told myself. No one would willingly wear squash-colored clothing into the new millennium. Would they? Turns out they would. Just take a look around any local department store and you'll see what I mean. Everywhere this spring there is orange. Orange shirts, orange shorts, orange socks, even orange hats, orange purses, orange sandals. I spent a recent vacation in northern California, where every Old Navy and Macy's and Nordstrom store flamed like a field of poppies. Orange-Avocado Salad 2 large navel oranges 2 tablespoons olive oil 2 teaspoons cider vinegar 2 teaspoons honey 1 teaspoon Dijon-style mustard 1/2 teaspoon salt 1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper 2 medium avocados, peeled, pitted and sliced 1 head curly greenleaf lettuce, washed and dried 1/4 sliced almonds, toasted Peel oranges and separate into segments. In a small bowl or shaker jar, combine oil, vinegar, honey, mustard, salt and cayenne pepper. Whisk or shake until well combined. In a large bowl, combine lettuce, oranges and avocado. Drizzle dressing over all; toss gently to mix. Serve immediately. Makes 4 servings. "Ooh, this is cute," my sister said, holding up a baseball shirt with sleeves the color of a Tootsie Pop. "And I didn't even think I liked orange." But she bought it. You know what's worse? So did I. Call it peer pressure, call it marketing run amok, but I came home with clothing in colors I swore I'd never buy. An orange-and-tan checked top. One of the orange-sleeved baseball shirts. Even a bright plaid job for my husband, who stared at it and said: "Do I look good in orange?" "Now you do," I replied. About the only comfort I can take from my colorful hypocrisy is that all this orange enthusiasm has spilled over into my kitchen. Suddenly, I seem to crave the hit of citrus. Salads, entrees, breads, desserts: No dish of mine has missed the kick of orange. That's a good thing, of course, from a health perspective. As the folks at Sunkist -- the ultimate orange-growers -- note, oranges are low in all the things that are bad for you and high in all the good stuff, yielding only about 70 calories and no fat for one medium piece of fruit. They contain a natural source of pectin, a water-soluable fiber that helps curb the appetite and healthy doses of folic acid, potassium and, of course, Vitamin C. The bright orbs also have a romantic history that appeals to my sweeter side. They've long been associated with fertility -- think orange blossoms in wedding bouquets -- because evergreen orange trees can simultaneously produce flowers, fruit and foliage. Oranges are also sturdy fruit that can stay fresh and juicy a few days at room temperature and up to two weeks in the refrigerator. Best of all, of course, oranges taste great. From zest grated into muffin batter and juice squeezed into a chicken dish to fruit segments nestled in a piquant salad, oranges enhance a range of dishes. So try the recipe below for one of my favorite foods, an orange-infused salad that combines the fruit in a savory mustard vinaigrette, then adds almonds for a kick. I plan to munch the dish on one of these sunny spring days we've been having, out on the patio, perhaps, while wearing my new orange-checked shirt. Careful readers will notice the salad also includes avocado, but for my wardrobe's sake, I'll choose to ignore it. (Send questions to A la carte, P.O. Box 1108, Medford, OR 97501. Reach JoNel Aleccia at 776-4465 or by e-mail at [email protected] ) Mail Tribune Copyright � The Mail Tribune 2000, Medford, Oregon USA