It all started with a trip to Costco a few days ago for such things as laundry detergent, dish soap, dish washer pods, potty paper and facial tissues. There was no intention of coming home with any food items at all. Indeed, both pantry and refrigerator are well stocked, and I had firmly resolved NOT to bring any edibles home.
Then bags of Meyer lemons came into view, and that was the end of that. I simply had to have them. Meyers are sunlight in a bowl, and seeing a whole dish of them on the kitchen counter lights me up. Ditto, their sublime fragrance, and besides, they pose for photos cheerfully, always a happy thing. I told myself that they were an absolute necessity and tucked a bag into my shopping cart. What other shoppers thought of the dotty old hen muttering to a towering display of golden fruit, I have no idea.
Whenever I lurch out to the kitchen to make yet another pot of tea or throw some sorry culinary effort or other together, the Meyers make me smile. Zen teacher, writer and chef Dana Velden says that a bowl of lemons can offer us the world, and I agree with her. On a dismal morning in the depths of winter, a little sunlight in a bowl is a fine old thing, especially when there is a whopper of a snow storm in the offing.
Sitting in a bowl, floating in beakers of tea, or tenderly squeezed into muffins, scones, pudding cakes and salad drizzles, Meyers delight the eye and gladden the senses. Like clementines, another splendid seasonal offering, they conjure warm climes, gentle breezes and faraway places. One should indulge, every chance she gets.
1 comment:
Flowers on the kitchen table do the same for me as your lemons for you. I might just try them -- they'll last longer than flowers and won't need their water changed every day!
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