Curdish

God gave me lemons so I made lemon curd. Well it wasn’t exactly God, it was my neighbor, who through her work has access to free produce - not good enough to sell and not so far gone it needs to be thrown away. Certain mornings, my day begins with a box of perishable food sitting on my porch and like Kiefer Sutherland I have about 24 hours to do something heroic before it all goes bad. Well, maybe not heroic but at the very least decisive.

The lemons weren’t the usual pebbly skinned Eureka lemons, they were Meyer lemons. This variety of lemon tree was first introduced into California in 1908. Imported to the States from China by a US Agricultural Employee named Meyer - probably not a coincidence. The variety was promulgated as an ornamental plant rather than nursery stock.

The tree’s history is easy, the fruit is a little more complicated. Some believe the Meyer lemon is a cross between a lemon and a mandarin (orange, a mandarin orange). Others speculate the Meyer is the result of a spontaneous hybrid of a lemon and sweet orange. Others theorize the first Meyer lemon was randomly pollinated by a mutant sweet orange/tangerine combination. The fruit can mature year around, but the trees bear the most fruit in the spring and fall. Friends have told stories about parents cutting down Meyer trees because the fruit was a nuisance, but I have always considered those anecdotes more apocryphal commentary about their parents inability to catch trends or enjoy the pleasures of life, than actual chainsaw tales.

Even though the juice of the Meyer is sweeter and less acidic than your standard lemon, the use of the fruit wasn't promoted until recently. Alice Waters, through her Chez Panisse’s cookbooks was an early champion of the actual lemon. Unfortunately, books ship and store easier than the thin skinned Meyer. As a result, the Meyer tends to be less traveled than its more popular relatives - That and the fruit sells for a premium, so people who have read about the Meyer might not have had first hand experience with the perishable fresh fruit.

Curd, in the instance of lemon curd, has nothing to do with cheese making, it is akin to apples transmogrifying into apple butter. According to my big book of etymology, curd as a noun possibly derives from an old English verb crudan meaning to drive. Rose Levy Beranbaum fills in some history by stating Lemon Curd was familiar to colonists who were used to a product in England called lemon cheese or lemon butter.

Equally as obtuse as the word's origins are the recipes for lemon curd. There is not a standardized recipe and technique for making Lemon Curd. Some authors recommend all yolks, some direct the use of whole eggs. Book-to-book there is disparity in the amounts of juice, eggs, sugar and butter that recipes call for. The great Shirley Corriher advises using a double boiler – placing a bowl over a pan of boiling water allowing for better temperature control - to make curd. While Pastry Chefs Beranbaum and Bo Friberg instruct cooks and readers to throw everything in a pan, place over a burner and strain out any of the bigger pieces.

I tend to side with the down and dirty practitioners, here is my quick recipe –

4 whole eggs
½ cup of sugar
1 and 1/4 cups lemon juice
zest of 3 lemons

3 oz.of butter, 3/4 of a stick

Whisk everything together and place in a stainless steel pan over medium heat on the stove - Once the sugar and eggs are combined, you must keep stirring until the mixture thickens (the sugar will 'scorch' the eggs and the eggs will scramble if not kept in constant motion). You can pronounce it curd when you can pull a spoon through the pan and the spoon leaves permanent trails or wakes behind.

Pour the mixture trough a strainer into a bowl and stir in butter a tablespoon at a time. The whole process can be sped up by warming the eggs in a bowl of hot tap water for a couple minutes.

Let cool and refrigerate – It will keep months in a clean container.

Fill tarts with curd, stuff in crepes with blueberries, serve it over French toast in lieu of syrup or dollop it on scones or biscuits. Sandwich the curd between 2 thin butter cookies and dust with powdered sugar. Mix lemon curd with chantilly (sweetened whip cream) and serve with whole strawberries.