Lemons are the king of fruits. They are unbeatable, with their pithy skins and cheek-pinching sourness. From cocktails and pasta to scented candles and colour, lemons are, quite frankly, superior. In a word: immaculate. Here are 3 lessons we can learn from lemons.
Lesson #1: lemons last
If you've ever attempted to grow a lemon tree, you'll know that they are basically indestructible. Even when the undersides of the leaves are coated in a fluffy fungus or mischievous bugs have gnawed away at them, they grow.
Sure, they may produce the smallest, gnarliest lemons you've ever seen... The tiny, hard fruits may be devoid of moisture. And yes, the skins may look acne-ridden... But they try their darnedest, even when all their efforts result in embarrassing, ugly fruits.
They're slow and temperamental, but they get the job done. Slowness and stubbornness go a long way; remember that the next time you're working yourself into a lather.
Lesson #2: workhorses, not show ponies
At work a few weeks ago, I was asked what ingredient I think I am. With garlic, chilli, butter, and salt chosen, I went with lemon. And truly, I am a lemon, just like your cousin's crappy old car that squeals when it reverses.
But on a more practical, serious note: you should always have lemons in the kitchen. There's basically no savoury dish that cannot be improved with a squeeze of citrus. Disagree? Fight me in the comments.
When life gives you lemons, make lemonade, lemon drizzle cake, seared fresh fish, a creamy lemon pasta sauce, salted margarita rims, lush lemon bars, and candied lemon rind. Why? Well, simply because you can. Because lemons are the workhorses of the kitchen - and yes, limes are the show ponies.
Lesson #3: an acquired taste
My dad doesn't eat lemons. In reality, he can't really. One bite of lemon and he's all sweats. Allergies aside, I think he's also just come to associate the taste with a gross physical sensation. So it's a pass on lemon for Fred - unless there's lemon meringue being dished.
In general though, they're an acquired taste. Like me. Like I believe we all should be. I'd be a zesty lemon over a bland apple any day. As American memoirist Patricia Hampl says, "Maybe being oneself is always an acquired taste."
🍋 So, here's me encouraging you to be a lemon:
Grow at your own pace, no matter how many pests are at your neck
It's okay to be a bit shitty, but just be reliable (most of the time)
Adaptable workhorses > trendy show ponies
To mangle Oscar Wilde's famous quote - be a lemon, the rest of the banal apples are already taken.
I'm always reminded of Miem's tree and how strangers would come to the gate and ask if we'd share them and we always did. When life gave us lemons we shared them with others.
And when there are way too many try pickling them with salt and olive oil and next you will be making Ottolenghi look like an amateur