All posts filed under: lemons

naturally sweet food in jars giveaway | a raisin & a porpoise

musings about foods in jars (with a Food In Jars Giveaway!)

  I’m a hoarder. In the fall, knowing that winter and its limited access to fresh, local food is looming, I can and I freeze in a rodent-esque frenzy, rushing with stuffed cheeks from tree to larder. Over the winter I mete out the jars and bags hoping-just-hoping we’ll make them last until the food returns. Then the mercury climbs and the world begins to green up again, as it currently is greening like a time-lapse film outside my window, and though we’ve inevitably run out of tomatoes more or less by Christmas, equally inevitably I realize that I have over-hoarded, over-meted, over-parsed. THERE IS A LOT OF FRUIT IN THE BASEMENT, just FYI if you are in the area. Every March I vow that next year will be the year that I’ll just Annie Dillard right through the stash instead of doling it out like a miser. And then we go around again. Despite its lack of snow, the winter we just ended was as foodless (in local terms) as it usually is, but …

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caching in on lemon season | a raisin & a porpoise

caching in

  I have a lemon problem.  It takes enormous self-control to vary the content for you here, because basically all the time I am working against the urge to say “put some lemon in that.” On top of that personal issue, we just got back from a trip to heavily-lemoned California, where lemons are not only for sale in markets at prices to make an Easterner weep, but on most streets they are just tumbling to the ground and rotting in heaps, dripping from the branches of trees that people drive by without stopping to sing hymns of gratitude, let alone picking or eating them. To the bafflement of my West Coast family, I packed myself a flat-rate box of lemons and shipped it back here, where I could sing hymns and go all nose-to-tail on them in the privacy of my wintry home. I set out below to give you a brief, simple recipe for taking what is essentially refuse or compost, stuffing it into a machine, grinding it up–pulverizing it, really; just absolutely …

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germ war pear

Let us talk, once again, of apples. Let us talk of nothing else, in fact, unless we are talking about pears. And then, when we are resting or perhaps slightly delirious, let us speak of what happens when it seems that apples have met pears, and been careless, producing a hybrid. One of the fruits that has gone into hyperdrive in the orchard that we are lucky to border on is the Asian Pear, which is also known (for reasons that are obvious enough when you eat one but seem to have no scientific basis) as the ‘apple pear’.  When my children were tots and prone to malaprops, one of them garbled the name into ‘angel apples,’ which is how we referred to them for a while. Apples in fact are blameless for these items, which are just a hybrid of some other kinds of very fecund pears that know no limits. For quite a while it was my belief that the only thing one of these was good for was eating out of hand, …

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