When Winter Gives You Lemons . . .Make Lemon Curd

When Winter Gives You Lemons . . . Make Lemon Curd

Lemons don’t grow in Vermont in the winter – or any other time of the year.

Not much grows in Vermont during the winter – not when they’re cold and snowy. Sure, there’s a traditional and mostly predictable January thaw, but it’s usually followed by sun-blinding fields of snow, blue skies and good skiing.

Not this year.

This year, it’s the weather that’s delivered the metaphorical lemons: good snowfalls ruined by saturating rain were bad enough, but the last few days have brought something even worse: Heat.

Yesterday, the thermometer approached 60 degrees; today the temperature’s pushing 70. The snow’s melting, the ground thawing, the birds active.

I like the birds. I even like the melt and the thaw in season – at the end of March.

When The World Gives You Lemons . . .

On Sunday, we made metaphoric lemonade. Taking advantage of a few inches of fresh snow and temperatures around freezing, we whistled up the dog and headed out for some backcountry skiing in the Green Mountain National Forest. We had a grand day of winter fun breaking trail, working up a sweat in the cold, joyfully outdoors in the austere winter woods.

When Lemons Arrive in the Mail . . .

But gray rain closed in on Monday, washing away what little color winter offers. Thankfully, I received a box of lemons in in the mail.

They came from my brother who lives in California, where lemon trees grow along the sidewalk – and in my brother’s in-laws’ back yard, just south of San Francisco.

These are Meyer lemons, a cross between a lemon and a mandarin orange, making them sweeter and juicer than the ordinary kind. I added them to the platter of clementines in the center of the dining room table. Clemintines, it turns out, are cross between an orange and a mandarin. These citrus cousins punctuated

the gray with their bright color, and their tangy aroma filled the room.

Outside, rain rinsed away the possibility of local, weekday, winter play. I sighed, despondent at another February day ruined by rain. Then I inhaled a whiff of bright citrus.

With just a few keystrokes, I found Molly O’Neill’s recipe for Lemon Curd. Ten minutes later, it was chilling in the fridge while a yellow cake from the freezer defrosted.

It’s not the same as frolicking in good winter weather, but when winter’s a lemon, lemon curd will do.