There is a particular kind of Saturday where the light comes in low and the kitchen is the only room I want to be in. I had eight lemons on the counter and no plan for any of them.
I started with the peel. Then the juice, then the pith, which I usually throw out and this time did not. A curd for the fridge, a syrup for the week, one lemon left whole on the windowsill because it looked right there.
Cooking has never been about the food for me, not entirely. It is about having something to do with my hands while the rest of me catches up. By the time the curd had thickened I had made three decisions I had been avoiding for a month.
The recipe, if you want it: six lemons, four eggs, a cup of sugar, a stick of butter, and forty minutes where nobody needs anything from you.
Written by Rez