The Mediterranean climate of Southern California doesn't always bring a traditional fall or winter. Ember leaves and falling snow can be very selective here, and on the two rare occasions in my lifetime when it snowed at the beach, I appropriately danced in the falling flakes amidst cresting waves.
More certain is the annual harvest I get from my Meyer Lemon tree this time of year. It's a wee thing, kept around five feet tall and twelve feet wide with meticulous pruning, regular feeding, and measured watering. Two hundred or more yellow spheres annually ripen on my proud tree that plays host to finches, hummingbirds, bee and butterflies year round.
Some of the crop is zested, and the product frozen for year-round use. Most is juiced, then also frozen in one-third cup cubes. Then the baking and cooking begins. I celebrate them by making foods that highlight their rich, less tart flavor that invites experimentation. Meyer Lemon Scones became a regular a few years back. Seared Scallops in a Meyer Lemon Beurre Blanc, served with a crisp Sauvignon Blanc, welcomes in the transition the spring each year. And Lemon Curd? Well, that's become a product friends and family asks for, and they diligently return the containers to ensure a spot in next year's distribution.
Today's creation is my second attempt at Limoncello in recent years. I had done some decades ago, when the tree began bearing fruit. It wasn't great, as I tried incorporating sweeteners other than white sugar like organic white or honey. This year, I decides to go traditional.
The process begins with washing the lemons. I like to rid them of any bits of bug casings and such while washing them. The lemons are then peeled by cutting them into wedges and removing the fruit. What's left is segments of firm peel that makes up the outer layer, and the spongy white barrier called the pith. That inner layer has to be removed, as it is bitter and would ruin the drink flavor. It's easy enough to do by holding the peel flat and scraping the pith with the edge of a spoon, as shown here.
The cleaned peels then go into a canning jar with Everclear, a clear, potent alcohol. a week later, after the lemon has infused the alcohol, I'll strain it and add enough simple syrup to reach a hopeful level of perfection. Until then, my lips are smacking at the thought of serving it on ice on a temperate winter evening, with logs on the fire and a cuddle blanket for two.
(All photos are property of the author. The dog is property of another, but likes to think he owns the yard. Whatever.)
