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Oranges and other fruit

Whether it's true or not, rumour says the Eskimos have twenty (fifty? a hundred?) different words for snow. So it wouldn't be surprising to find the Spanish had an extraordinary number of words for orange. After all, here, the trees grow wild (or under the protection of the Ayuntamiento, which is pretty much the same thing) and the fruit drops and rots in the streets. Sin embargo, the language seems no more provided with "citric" words than English, and the variety available in the shops is surprisingly limited.

Mostly, there are naranjas and limones, mandarinas and clementinas. Here in the village, I can't remember the last time I saw a pomelo, and although there have been occasional glimpses of blood oranges - naranja sanguina, I believe; definitely not sanguijuelas! - I don't think I've ever seen a lime. I don't know the difference between a mandarin and a tangerine, but that hardly matters, as the latter don't seem to exist here. In the supermercado we get naranjas de mesa and naranjas para zumo, but nothing more complex. No seville oranges to make marmalade; no naval oranges (well, not labelled as such, anyway).

Of course, as those of us of a certain age are well aware, oranges are not the only fruit. And other fruit are far more complicated.
 

The strawberry season ya ha terminado, odd though this may seem to Brits who associate them with Wimbledon. But at any time of year, buying strawberries in Spain is a problem. I've asked for fresas while looking straight at a box of them before now, only to be told, "No hay fresas. Hay fresones." That seems to me like saying, "We haven't got any eggs: we only have jumbo eggs." What difference is there between a fresa and a fresón? And should the greengrocer really be boasting about the size of his strawberries?!

If you ask for "cherries" in a Spanish shop, they'll try and sell you tomatoes. Perhaps asking for cerezas (like beers without the "v") will work. Just hope to goodness that the verdulero doesn't refuse to sell them because all he has are picotas. These are sold without stalks, but whether they are a separate species from ordinary cerezas is probably a matter that could only be determined by una prueba de adn.

Since the Spanish are so pedantic about differences that I don't even notice, I made a special effort when I tried to buy greengages; I knew there was a proper word, not the usual ciruela that covers ordinary plums, but I couldn't remember it. So I pointed and asked what they were called. The greengrocer assured me, "Son ciruelas." So, ok, I asked for medio kilo de ciruelas. At which point he turned to his assistant: "¡Ponle medio de claudias!"

The whole peach scenario is similar: I know a nectarine - nectarina - is a bald peach. But are the fuzzy ones melocotones, duraznos or something altogether more obscure such as piesco?

Maybe I should just shop in the supermarket where it's autoservicio and no language is involved.