One of the best culinary treats I received recently was a large bag of oranges from my neighbour in Għajnsielem. Full of fragrance and flavour, it was tempting to do nothing more than turn them into a large jug of juice.

In fact, I made a medium-sized jug of juice and used the rest of the oranges in my kitchen. I am always so thrilled to find quantities of bitter oranges too. In London I have to hunt them out and, even then, for only a very short season.

This puzzles me, as the oranges, imported from Seville and its environs grow for a much longer season, as they do in Malta.

In the 18th century, Malta was the main supplier of oranges and orange flower water to France. The crowned heads of Europe were accustomed to receiving both as gifts from the Knights of St John.

In addition, oil of neroli was produced, as well as jasmine pommade, and a pommade à la gazia, which was an acacia flower, or mimosa, oil.

A fascinating correspondence of the period, between a Parisian grocer and his son Louis Savoye, a young cleric attached to the Knights, shows a rather impatient father, urging his son to make sure the orange trees are only watered every fortnight, that he chooses only the very best oranges, and that he packs them carefully in wood chips or wraps them in cotton.

He even gives detailed instructions for making the orange crates. Sometimes he wants the neroli oil decanted from the orange flower water and sent separately; sometimes he says he will do it himself.

Very rarely is he satisfied with what his son sends according to Parfum de Cour, Gourmandise des Rois – Le commerce des oranges entre Malte et la France au XVIIIe siècle, a fascinating study by Alain Blondy, published by Editions Bouchène et Fondation de Malte in 2003.

The flavour of citrus is indispensable to the cook, and I doubt whether there are any kitchens without a couple of lemons in the fruit bowl or veg drawer. Limes and grapefruit too have their afficionados; can’t make a proper Peruvian ceviche or tiradito without limes and, as Peruvian is one of the flavours of the moment, how fortunate that limes are increasingly available in Malta.

Try also a monkfish tartare with freshly squeezed grapefruit juice and plenty of grated ginger. But at this time of year, why not adapt all your favourite citrus recipes to sour oranges? Even the gin and tonic takes on a new look with a slice and spritz of this orange instead of lemon.

It was in Andalucia that I first used the bitter, sour Seville oranges other than in the annual marmalade-making frenzy which overtakes us in January, and discovered that sour oranges can be used almost anywhere you would use a lemon.

And while one would naturally expect sour oranges to work well in savoury dishes, with fish as well as with pork, veal and duck, they are even better in desserts than sweet oranges, their sharpness offering the perfect foil to cream and sugar.