A Lemon in Winter

January 23, 2012 · 16 comments

There comes a point in every local food-loving New Englander’s life when, during the dark snowy days of mid-winter, she puts her hands on her hips, stamps her feet, and says If I eat one more freaking turnip, I’m going to throw up. 

I am officially at that point.

This generally happens to me towards the end of January, so it’s not like I should be surprised or anything. Still, as someone who believes in local, seasonal eating (as much as I can, living in western Connecticut), I wind up feeling guilty for even thinking about my favorite wintertime flavor — lemon — when by the fact of my geography, I should be hunkered down over my seven quart Creuset while it burbles away on the back of the stove, filled with the brownish, earthy murkiness of the season.

“It’s Meyer Lemon season here!” my California friends wrote to me the other day. “We have so many of them, we just don’t know what to do with them all!”

I know what you can do with them all, I thought, gazing virtuously out the window at our stone garden Buddha, buried under eight inches of snow.

“Well,” I wrote back to her, “if you have to live every day with the knowledge that your city might slip into the bay at any moment, you might as well have the best Meyer Lemons in the world. After all, you have to have something.”

And suddenly, just like that — just like it was God’s little joke — they started showing up everywhere I looked: shrink-wrapped in my supermarket. (I will not buy shrink-wrapped produce. Not. Not. Not.) In the San Francisco Chronicle (which I read on line every day, so I can feel like I’m right there even if I’m on the other side of the country). All over the bloody blogosphere. All over the little food television I actually watch. I finally threw in the towel when I clicked over to 101Cookbooks.com and found Heidi Swanson in the throes of a citrus takeover of her kitchen.

“I’m not kidding when I tell you it looks like a citrus orchard shook out its limbs in my kitchen,” she wrote in her most recent post.

I’m stuck here in root vegetable hell, so just shut up, Heidi, I wanted to say. But I didn’t. I really like Heidi. I took it as a sign: I needed to give myself a break. In the depths of winter, I needed to be kind to myself. So I drove to my local healthy foods market, bought myself some Meyer Lemons that had been shipped over from the other side of the country, and smugly drove home. Between the .75 metric tons of carbon dioxide it took to fly the damned things here and the gallon and a half of gas it took my Subaru to get to the store and home again, I was feeling fairly guilty. The small package of mint and bag of frozen organic peas I bought to go with them didn’t help.

But when it gets to be this time of year and you don’t live anywhere near Berkeley and you’re drowning in turnips and rutabagas and those cute little acorn squash you managed to grow last summer before the hurricane wiped out your garden, and it’s freezing and snowing and the days are short and all you can think about is spring, you need a little brightness and spark and zip in your culinary life. At least I do. A few hours after coming home from my shopping trip, I was standing in the kitchen making barley risotto with a significant splash of the sweet lemon juice, a good amount of zest, chopped fresh mint, a handful of peas, and a crumbling of good sheep’s milk feta.

And just for a little while, it felt ever so slightly like spring.

 Barley Risotto with Meyer Lemon, Peas, and Feta

Adapted from Deborah Madison’s Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone

I don’t know why it took me so long, but it wasn’t until years ago, when I came upon Amanda Hesser’s sloshy pappardelle with lemon, ricotta salata, and herbs in Cooking with Mr. Latte that I really fell in love with the idea of combining pasta with lemon, cheese, and herbs. Oddly enough, I’d been making an unofficial version of it for years in my tiny Manhattan apartment kitchen — it almost always involved bare cupboards and the kind of after-midnight, carb-laden cooking necessitated by too much youthful imbibing — but I wouldn’t have dared make it for anyone else. Fast forward twelve years, and the combination is one of my favorites: Meyer lemon, because of its sweetness, works beautifully with so many herbs and types of cheese — thyme, rosemary, mint, marjoram, pecorino, feta, Parmigiana Reggiano, chevre — that the possibilities are endless. In this version, I’ve married the flavors to Deborah Madison‘s wonderfully earthy barley risotto; farro would work beautifully, too. (Note: Because of the salt in the stock and the salty feta, I’ve omitted any additional salt.)

Serves 4

4-1/2 cups vegetable stock (I prefer Rapunzel Vegetable Stock with Sea Salt)

1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil

1/2 cup finely diced onion

1 garlic clove, minced

1 cup pearl barley

2 tablespoons fresh Meyer Lemon juice

1 tablespoon unsalted butter

3/4 cup frozen peas

1 tablespoon Meyer Lemon zest, minced

1/4 cup finely chopped fresh mint leaves

1/2 cup crumbled feta plus more for serving

In a medium saucepan, bring the stock to a slow simmer. Heat the oil in a large, straight-sided, deep saute pan set over medium heat. Add the onion and garlic and cook until barely translucent. Add the barley to the pan, stir well to coat the grains with oil.

Add about a cup of the stock and continue to stir until it’s nearly absorbed. Continue to add about a half a cup of stock at a time, stirring constantly and waiting for each addition to be almost absorbed before adding more. The risotto is done when the barley is tender and the dish is creamy. Fold in the lemon juice and the butter, and then add the peas, stirring well to combine (the heat from the dish will cook the peas).

Stir in the zest, the mint, and the feta and let rest for five minutes before serving, topped with more crumbled feta.



{ 14 comments… read them below or add one }

1 Victoria January 23, 2012 at 2:35 pm

In October 2006 my darling 84 and 11-month old father died after a very brief illness. The following February when I cleaned out the house he lived in for seven months shy of fifty years, I came across a number of unopened bottles of blended Scotch whisky. Apparently, for lack of a better idea, people had been giving them to him for Christmas, and he didn’t drink them, he just collected them.

Now they were mine.

Just then, a friend, who lives in Palm Springs, sent me a HUGE (I am not kidding) box of Meyer lemons she plucked from a tree in her front yard. I dutifully juiced them all, which wasn’t difficult since they are so soft and thin-skinned, and froze the juice in Ziplock bags in my freezer.

For the rest of the long, dark winter on Saturday nights my friend Walter and I each drank a Scotch Sour and toasted my lovely dad Anthony and my lemon-plucking friend, Joan .

2 eM January 23, 2012 at 3:51 pm

I am in Seattle feeling the very same way about Kale.
Even though we only had 3 days of snowy weather and it’s sunny here at the moment, I can’t help but feel that there is no reason on earth not to go home to San Francisco. Meyer Lemons (and Pink Jasmine) in January seal the deal

3 Glamorous Glutton January 23, 2012 at 4:03 pm

I’ve never had Meyer lemons, i’m not sure if it’s possible to get them here, but after your description of their sweetness and taste I’m going to search them out. Love the idea of combining them with risotto. GG

4 Jennifer January 24, 2012 at 2:02 am

I grew up in a house with two meyer lemon trees, one of which was always bearing fruit and then lived in a home for 16 years with a tree that bore fruit all year long. Not to gloat – but – for the first time in the 10 years since we moved to this house in North Orange County California my meyer lemon tree is full of lemons.
I think you should enjoy your decadance!!!

5 Tracy January 24, 2012 at 10:56 am

We have a lemon tree that spends winter in our living room and summer in the back yard. It just dropped its last lemon the other day. I’m not looking forward to buying market lemons, but it’s inevitable.

6 Angelina January 24, 2012 at 4:24 pm

eM – pink jasmine! I haven’t smelled any since living in CA and I miss it so much.

I feel the same way here in Oregon. We don’t grow lemons here. I’ve been seeing lemons everywhere too and am dying to make some lemonade. I think perhaps a version of that whiskey sour would do as well (but with some other liquor?) I’ve been promised a few by a friend but they haven’t come and I’m afraid to hope too hard that she doesn’t forget. I do not get tired of root vegetables but I crave bright flavors to break them up. I’m glad you got the lemons. I eat mostly locally and seasonally too but once in a while I will buy avocados or lemons from the store for a treat.

7 Rebecca Harrach January 25, 2012 at 12:37 am

Haha I just choked down an entire turnip julienned into a salad in an attempt to disguise it from myself. So many turnips. So much bok choy. When does Spring hit?? But I do live in California and the salad did have Meyer lemon vinaigrette. Thanks for the post.

8 alyssa January 25, 2012 at 10:07 am

i need to make this. but. i bought a giant box of them at costco and i’m currently using them for cocktails. am feeling like cocktail hour trumps dinner.

9 mimi January 26, 2012 at 1:21 pm

This is a fabulous recipe!! Offered by a fabulous writer!

10 Elissa January 26, 2012 at 1:23 pm

Thank you—xxE

11 Kelly Red January 26, 2012 at 5:35 pm

I am heading from wintery Minnesota to sunny Pasadena in 2 weeks to visit a friend. He has a Meyer lemon tree in his backyard and I have already told him I am leaving extra room in my carry-on to bring back lemons. Does that violate eating local when I’m already going myself? Oh well. I’m also searching out finger limes which he says are at the local asian markets in abundance. We NEVER get those in MN, even at the gourmet shops. And maybe a Buddha Hand or real citrons, oh the glories of sunny CA.

12 heidi January 27, 2012 at 11:00 am

I go through this every winter.I hate the guilt that goes along with it, but, sometimes you just HAVE to have SOMETHING.And, when I do succumb , I try to really enjoy it as the treat that it is. Be gentle with yourself, it all balances out somewhere.

13 Rocky Mountain Woman January 27, 2012 at 5:51 pm

I am wrapped up in winter squash right now and loving it! This looks amazing and well, I don’t want to get scurvy or anything, so maybe I should try it!

14 Lorrie April 18, 2012 at 9:24 pm

It was so interesting to read your lemony story! I come from the north island of New Zealand, where we have a Mediterranean climate. I had never bought a lemon in the 50 years I lived there, until moving to London for 7 years, then to Sydney for the past 2 years. I will never get used to buying lemons, and cry inwardly when I think of the ones we let go to waste due to the over-abundance of our crop. Our two Meyer lemon trees kept us, and friends and family in lemons all year round! One tree in particular had blossoms, green fruit and ripe lemons all at the same time, and the flavour was superb. The waxed, hard and dry lemons I have had to purchase in the past few years do not compare with our golden treasures.

Leave a Comment

{ 2 trackbacks }

Previous post:

Next post:



©2009, ©2010, Poor Man's Feast. All rights reserved. To reprint any content herein, including recipes and photography, please contact rights@poormansfeast.com