If Life Gives You Lemons, Preserve Them.

My sister and I were discussing the merits of “make it yourself” v. “buy it at the store” the other day, after my post about making Nutella and chocolate syrup.

And she sent me this link where some smart lady did a bunch of comparisons between homemade items and storebought ones.

We talked about what, among her attempts, we think we’d like to make ourselves, and I said pretty much none except maybe the Greek yogurt and the lemon preserves, because I love anything lemon almost as much as I love sharing with people too many details about what pregnancy has done to my gastrointestinal system, which is to say, A WHOLE LOT.

But, I cannot make lemon preserves, because I have a Great Fear of canning, much like I have a Great Fear of baking bread. (I did, however, make my own pizza crust, from scratch, the other night, and it turned out pretty good, and I think this is the first of many baby steps toward a real future in bread making.)

But I got to thinking that, while I cannot (at least, not yet) make lemon preserves, I CERTAINLY can make preserved lemons.

My friend Sherry has kept a jar of preserved lemons in her fridge for as long as I can remember, and occasionally I have seen her open the jar and surreptitiously pop half a lemon in her mouth and suck on it, just like that. But this is the same girl who will take the citrus out of her Pimm’s cup and eat it whole, which is to say, SHE IS NOT OKAY.

Still, preserved lemons are really, really good, and quite versatile in the kitchen. You have to have an iota of patience, because it takes about three weeks for them to be ready, and that makes it really difficult for me because I am all about Instant Gratification. But they are fun to do, and you can look at them every day with anticipation, like you did your grade school science experiment, to see how juicy they are and how they seem to be changing in the jar.

The way this recipe from David Lebovitz describes the process is about perfect, and he also kindly links you to recipes wherein you can use your lemons, and ideas for all kinds of applications.

My favorite preserved lemon application, though, is salad:

Ingredients

3 or 4 T olive oil

1 small jar capers, drained

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 whole preserved lemon

1 bag pasta – I usually use farfalle for this

2 C sugar snap peas

4 salmon steaks, skin removed

salt and pepper

1 bunch dill, leaves picked

Step 1) Start some water boiling.

Step 2) Heat 2 of the 4 T of olive oil in a large skillet and saute the capers for 6 to 8 minutes, and then add the garlic for another minute or two. Remove from the skillet and set aside.

Step 3) Cut the rind off of the flesh of the preserved lemon, and rinse the rind thoroughly under cold water. Trust me on the rinsing. Also, I always remove the white pith. I hate to eat pith. Chop up the rind – that’s what is going in your salad. I mean it. Do it.

Step 4) By now your water should be boiling, so throw in your farfalle for about 10 minutes, and in the last two minutes, add your peas as well – same pot.

Step 5) Meanwhile, back at the ranch, you could be putting a little of that leftover olive oil on your skinless salmon steaks, and seasoning them with some sea salt (or kosher) and pepper. Plop them in that frying pan over medium heat, and cook them to your desired doneness. I like my salmon steaks a little rare.

Step 6) Drain the peas and pasta (if you haven’t already) and put them in your favorite big bowl, and mix in the caper/garlic mix, and flake your salmon into large hunks with a fork, and put that in there too. Drizzle in the rest of the olive oil, a dash more of salt and pepper, and the dill, and then gently stir in the lemon rind so it mingles with all the parts.

I always feel like this is sort of “chick food”, but maybe I’m wrong. Nonetheless, you can rest assured I’ve never tried to get it past the lips of Mr. Meat and Potatoes. So maybe it’s something to serve at your next wedding or baby shower, or maybe you just want to carry some around in your purse.