What I think about when I’m already not ready for Christmas.
What’s your position on the mass carnage of lemons?
It’s been weighing on me. I haven’t started my limoncello because of lemon guilt. Well, that and the capricious and arbitrary limit of 24 hours to a day and 7 days to a week, but - I digress.
Did you know it takes fourteen lemons to make a liter of limoncello? Fourteen large lemons. But just the zest of the lemon. And therein lies the problem. The remaining lemon, naked and vulnerable to the ravages of decay, sits in a Ziploc bag in the fruit drawer of the refrigerator waiting for my husband to use it in iced tea. My husband drinks a lot of iced tea (no, really, a lot), but even he can’t keep up with the naked lemons this month. I know this because I’ve been using two to four small lemons per day in my springerle production and the naked lemons have accumulated at an alarming rate. If two to four lemons a day are getting some notice, imagine dumping fourteen denuded lemons in at once.
I’ve wanted to try my hand at limoncello since the success of the sour cherry liqueur experiment this past summer.
Syncing lemon procurement with the time required to clean and zest fourteen of them has been something of an issue - a fantasy I’ve been having since the cherry nectar was bottled. Then there’s the waste to consider. Unlike the lemons, there’s no waste with the cherries, the pickled cherries are as good as the liqueur.
I currently have the required fourteen lemons on hand, and at $1 per lemon, I don’t want to lose my $14 investment, either through neglect or by harvesting the zest and tossing the rest. Time and the sour taste of guilt inextricably entwined.
Until last week when I happened upon a suggestion to freeze fresh squeezed lemon juice in ice cube trays and use the cubes in drinks or recipes or what-have-you. Brilliant. And yet…the thought of juicing fourteen lemons by hand…maybe a negative three on a scale of one to ten.
What do we do when life hands us lemons, Jeri?
What I really want to know is: how did I get to be this old without a citrus juicer?! It might be due to an aversion to appliance clutter, or a preference for somebody else doing the work, or C) all of the above, but no matter, Google had the answer. I was led to Juicing Nation’s Top Five Juicers of 2017 and number three was right in my wheelhouse: 50 bucks, sized to fit some open real estate in my cabinet and on schedule - Amazon Prime, baby.
In theory, though at this writing the fourteen lemons remain intact, limoncello is right around the corner. In practice, I’ve tested the juicer on the back log of small lemons used for baking, with spectacular results. Prit-tee sure this is where the expression ‘easy peasy lemon squeezy’ originated.
So that’s my last minute gift guide…juicer, lemons, vodka. If you’re really nice, throw in a life changing zester, as well. (pictured in foreground of first photo).
That, my friends, is how you make lemonade.