worth the wait

the end of the 2008

and the beginning

of 2009

have made for

a rather gloomy

new jersey 

winter.

right now it's grey,

looming somewhere between

light snow and

heavy rain.

this follows the tease of

a couple pretty days,

but mostly

mornings and 

nights 

battling snow:

brushing off the car

and shoveling out spots

every morning on 

the way to work

and 

every evening on the way

home, both of which 

are only meant to

prepare you for

risky, scary, wintry

drives.

once home,

all you want to do is 

change into 

pajamas,

dive under the covers

with a mug of

tea

or 

hot chocolate

and cross your fingers 

that someone broke

into your house while

you were gone

to make a hot pot

of stew.

or maybe that's just me.

on one of these days,

cranky from

frozen fingers and toes,

and the snow plow that

had gotten dangerously

close to me

(not my car, me)

in the parking lot,

i walked into the 

supermarket and 

saw a sea of 

gorgeous

smooth, 

shiny

and 

bright yellow

meyer lemons.

there were so many

and they were so pretty

and cheerful

and even though i was

without a plan,

i bought four. they were

my only purchase and

when i ran through 

the parking lot,

i clutched them against

my chest

until i got into the car

and promised myself

to make something uplifting.

when i got home,

i kicked off my slush-covered

sneakers

and ran for the computer, 

looking for the recipe 

that called out to me.

meyer lemons, unlike their common

extremely tart and bitter relatives -

lemons, as we know them -

are bursting with floral notes

and have balanced their acidity

with sweetness, which

in some circles

makes them 

reminiscent of

oranges, and perfect

for desserts. 

they don't stick around for

long. their season is fleeting,

so when i saw them,

i knew i should make something

special. i tossed around

the idea of 

a budino,

or a mousse

or curd,

before realizing that i had

nothing going on

in my life

that required sweets

to be made.

and, then, 

i saw a recipe,

that before i even clicked 

on, i knew would be the 

winner:

preserved meyer lemons.

i loved that by saving them

in a jar,

i could enjoy the slivers

year-round,

that they could be

used for savory dishes

and, that

i could always 

look at

bright yellow

lemons,

when things got

too grey

outside.

the only problem?

i only had four.

the recipe called for 10-12.

i waited patiently and crossed

my fingers for 3 days that they 

would still be there when

i returned to the store. they were.

then, i realized that i didn't actually

have a jar with a tight fitting lid.

jars, when you can't

get to a craft store

right away,

are surprisingly hard to find.

so, i stared at them on my counter,

talked to them,

pleaded with them to not go 

bad before i had the

jar,

opportunity

and 

time

to toss them into a pot of

boiling water

and bury

them in mountains

of coarse salt.

a week later,

i set to work early

in the morning with

coffee in hand, expecting 

a tedious task.

it was surprisingly easy.

i boiled six of the lemons

while juicing the other ones.

when they were cool,

i cut the fruits into 8ths, 

removed the seeds

tossed them with salt,

packed the wedges into 

a jar, covered them 

with juice

and then reality set

in.

i had to wait even longer

to enjoy them. only

five days, if i'm being 

honest, but i've never been

especially good

at waiting it out.

when i was younger,

i always opted for the 

one-hour photo 

after a big event 

and refused 

to leave the store 

until the pictures

were in my hand, 

and even then,

i inspected each one in 

the checkout line. 

my senior year

was torture, a daily parade 

of mailbox checking, in

search of college

acceptances.

and every week,

i become legitimately

upset when i realize

that i have to wait

7 more days 

before finding out

the next quickfire on

top chef,

or what's really

happening to izzy

on grey's anatomy.

so five days felt like 

a lot. because, in spite

of lacking a certain

amount of patience,

i'm not a cheater.

in spite of the temptation

to open the jar each

day, and taste one,

i worried more that 

it was wrong and that 

one slip of oxygen

would ruin the whole

batch. and in spite

of wanting to 

taste one

every day,

i worried that they would

ultimately be delicious, and i would

regret the five 

progress-taste tests

because it would mean

five less wedges to use

throughout the year

if i loved them.

when the time was up,

i did nibble on a wedge.

the thin rind, was tender,

the flavor of the whole thing

sweet and salty

and slightly, just slightly,

spicy.

the result, was 

undoubtedly lemon-like,

but so much more.

with one bite, i could 

imagine

adding them to 

dish

after dish

as my secret ingredient.

i resisted the

urge to "try" another,

and instead,

poured in a splash of

olive oil 

and

tightened the lid.

i couldn't wait to play. 

preserved meyer lemons

if you cannot find meyer lemons, you can still preserve the traditional ones. also, make sure that you have extra lemons ready if need be. in spite of using a jar that was one cup smaller than should be, i still didn't have quite enough to pack tightly (as is best) or enough juice to cover. i did have traditonal lemons, so i used some of their juice to make up the difference. also, don't worry if the salt seems to settle for the first day or two. thanks to the soaking and the once-a-day-shake, it all absorbs and evens out.

3 lbs. meyer lemons (about 12), divided

2/3 cup coarse salt

1/4 cup olive oil

5 cup jar with a tight fitting lid

bring pot of water to a boil; add 6 lemons. when cool enough to handle, cut each lemon into 8 wedges; using sharp knife, remove seeds. place salt in bowl; add lemon wedges and toss to coat. pack lemons into jar.

meanwhile, squeeze enough juice from remaining lemons to measure 1 cup. add enough juice to jar to cover lemons. cover jar with lid, making sure it is on tightly. shake jar once a day for five days. pour olive oil into jar. cover tightly with lid. store in fridge for up to one year.