Just one lemon. One
lemon. My tree looks like a Charlie
Brown Christmas tree with a lone yellow ornament. I had visions of my kitchen
counter crowded with woven baskets spilling over with bright yellow
sunshine balls, still warm from the afternoon sun. Nope, just one lemon. But I am still grateful
for the one lemon. Did I tell you
there’s only one lemon?
But there is a gravitas to what to do with the one
lemon. My first thought was to make a
bold mouth-puckering cocktail. Would
that be special enough to celebrate this lovely lemon? Squeeze every ounce of
the juice, mix it with a simple syrup add vodka, shake, spill the liquid
sunshine into a chilled martini glass rimmed with lemon sugar. AIn’t one thing wrong with that. But one cocktail, and by one I mean one for
me and one for Sweet Michael, didn’t seem squeeze worthy. Please remember this the next time you’re
filling up the produce bag at your supermarket, this lemon took almost a year
from bloom to ripe. A year. And this only child lemon has not had a
moment of privacy. Every morning while I
am making my morning tea, yes dear, sweet tea, I peek out my window and make
sure the lemon is still hanging out on the end of the branch. This is not citrus OCD, I have to check each
morning and evening because the lemon tree’s neighbor is a guava tree which
right now, looks like some scary Tim Burton harvest. The birds love to feast on the guavas but
apparently, the feasters do follow the stereotype of eating like a bird,
leaving half of the fruit. So the lemon
has been spared from the guava marauders.
Tart sweet cookies or a cake would seem to fulfill the
destiny of this lemon. But with only one
lemon (remember?) there is simply not
enough juice. And I would feel awful if I dishonored the fruit by blending with
store-bought lemons. Yes, that sounds
like total citrus snobbery and I’m going to own it this time. There is a definite lemon hierarchy with the
homegrown lemon sparkling at the very top.
But I can’t get my mind off of baking with the lemon. So I remembered a southern lemon cake with a
thin lemon-powdered sugar glaze. This cake was more of a coffee cake baked in a loaf pan. With the additional tartness of added
buttermilk , to compensate for the one lemon, this lemon loaf was a sweet
success. So let me leave you with a little southern thought for the day; when
life hands you lemons, squeeze a wedge into your sweet iced tea and count your lucky
stars you can call yourself a southern gal!
