All posts filed under: preserved lemons

sweet potato + blood orange salad | a raisin + a porpoise

all the rest have 31

A very long time ago, my sister and I went on a spa vacation. This took place in pre-internet days, to give you a sense of the amount of time that has passed between then and now. Such a thing as a Yelp review had not yet been invented to assist the clueless traveler. Imperfect as that tool may be, a person can increase the accuracy of their expectations at least a little by skimming over the aggregate natterings of many people who have visited a place. We had a paper brochure to go on (remember those?), which very possibly came from a human travel agent (remember those?). The place sounded nice enough, and it suited our budget, and so off we went for a little girly getaway. There was much truth to the marketing: one feature of the palm-tree sprinkled property was in fact a health spa, with scrubs and wraps and rubs and various cosmetic applications and fitness options available all the live long day, and which we quickly surmised catered mainly to …

grilling peaches and some other good stuff for dinner | a raisin + a porpoise

warmly

What a weird summer we’re having. If I were writing a six-word memoir of this season, that sentence above would have to make the short list, along with ‘What Is Up With The Dog?’ and ‘Try Starting Dryer Before Clothes Rot’ and possibly ‘Let’s Put Kombucha In That Hat.’  It’s a weird-weather summer, dry and yet humid, and the plants (and the people) are showing the strain. It’s a weird summer of keeping a watchful, helpless-feeling eye on politics and on various relatives and on an increasingly senile house pet, a weird-in-general, hodgy-podgy summer of things both coming together and falling apart, of things being limp and drippy, yet parched. It’s still summer, though. Which means popsicles and more popsicles, as many as possible, and being certain, late at night, that as summer wanes (didn’t it just begin?!), there is more fun to be had than I am making time for. And it means enjoying unscheduled stretches of minutes and hours with my three kiddos, all home under one roof by dint of a miracle …

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 …