Showing posts with label Lemon Curd. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lemon Curd. Show all posts

Saturday, May 4, 2013

Ok, it's really, really spring now. For real.

Apple tree still alive, unmarred by deer, and
surrounded by violets.
Yesterday, we harvested the first huge bunch of kale from four plants that we over-wintered. This morning we sautéed some and topped toast with our girls' eggs, local salsa from the CSA, and the kale. Add a side of hash browns made from local taters, and it was a great saturday morning feast.

This does make finding a corner of table on
which to eat breakfast a little tricky.
Most of the herbs I was certain had died are looking great all of a sudden, the strawberry plants look ready to get down to business, and I transplanted a ton of healthy tomato seedlings into larger pots this morning. Yesssssssss!

I also dug out my seed potatoes from the back of the fridge, cut the ones that needed separating, and set them out on newspaper to dry. If all goes well, they'll be in the ground in the next few days.


The kitchen is back in production mode.



But perhaps the most spring-y part of today, is that I did our first round of canning. Huzzah! We had a few of the lemons left that Alex's aunt and uncle sent, and managed 4.5 cups worth. I love this stuff, and I love giving it out to people, which means you can never have enough. The curd is yellowier than I was last time we made it because the girls' eggs are so much more colorful than the ones you get in the store. It's gorgeous.
I finally got little jars!

If you are interested in trying it for yourself, the recipe is below. Adapted from Sheri Brooks Vinton's Put Em Up Cookbook because I like my curd tangier and thicker than her recipe suggests.

1.5 sticks of unsalted organic butter
1 c sugar (preferably raw or unrefined, fair trade and vegetarian)
1/2 tsp salt
4 eggs (our girls eggs are a little smaller than the store-bought kind, so I add a 5th sometimes)
1 c lemon juice (from 5-ish organic lemons)
1 T lemon zest (or just whatever comes from the lemons you juiced.)

Combine all in a double boiler, and whisk until it's a custard, around 10 minutes. You can store this in the fridge in an airtight container for 2 weeks, or can in a water bath canner for 10 minutes so it's shelf stable for a year. Yumm-o! If you don't have lemons, limes or oranges would work too.

Friday, June 15, 2012

When Life Gives You Lemons...

Make Lemon Curd!

Yesterday we got an incredibly exciting package in the mail. A relative who lives in San Diego sent Alex (and I) a huge box of his home-grown lemons. These things were big, and their juice is so delicious. Since they weren't from the store, I know they aren't waxed, and so they won't last very long. I'd never made lemon curd before, so I decided to give it a try. Particularly since this is what our fruit bowl currently looks like:

We have a lot of lemons!
What a Thoughtful Treat!! I may have promised to play video games in return for these puppies, though.

I halved the sugar in the recipe, and used local eggs for the custard. Yuuuum! It is delicious and tart. This is no mild, namby-pamby lemon curd you get at the specialty food store. It's bright and gorgeously yellow and it will add flavor and creamy texture to shortbread and pound cakes all year! I'll probably do another round to give as present, but I didn't have enough butter on hand to make it happen this morning.
Add 1 cup lemon juice and 1 T zest to double boiler

Add 1 1/2 sticks butter, 1 cup sugar, and 4 eggs and whisk constantly until it thickens


These are the eggs we just picked up from the Phipps Farmer's Market

Strain through a mesh sieve if you want, but I always skip that in any recipe.
Laddle into jars and process 10 minutes.


Lemon curd is great because it employs both the juice and the zest. The spent lemon peels didn't go to waste either, because I mixed up a batch of lemon cucumber water as well. It's like the spa is right in my kitchen! For people who don't like drinking water, this is a great way to feel luxurious while you're hydrating.