Preservation

We have a Valley lemon tree in the backyard. (That's Meyer lemons to everyone else in the world.) There is a lot of fruit on the tree, and some of it is already starting to ripen. This tree is one of my favorite things about this house. I love lemons and limes to an extreme degree, just ask my dentist. I especially love Valley lemons. They are large, with a smooth creamy yellow skin that is easy to peel. I vividly remember grabbing one from the veggie drawer of the refridgerator in our old house, this is the fridge that Mom and I had covered in cow print contact paper because it was rusting and ugly. I peeled it, thinking it was an orange that hadn't gotten all its color. It was sour, but a smooth sour, with just a hint of sweetness behind it. That's when I knew what true love felt like. So, of course I was a very happy girl when I found five of them on the kitchen table the other day. I squeezed one into a glass, intending to mix it with iced tea. While waiting for the tea to brew, I drank the juice straight. Whoops. It was only supposed to be a taste, but it went too far.
Finally, with lemony tea in hand, I contemplated the remaining lemons. For reasons unknown to neither me nor my parents, the ends of a few of the lemons had already begun to rot. Something had to be done. That's when I remembered the recipe I had seen for preserved lemons on Stuttercut.org. We aren't talking lemon preserves here, all glossy smooth and sweet. No, these are preserved lemons made by tossing lemon quarters with salt, layering them in a jar with some more salt, and then covering the whole mess with more lemon juice. Considering the fact that I had just eaten two of the lemons with a hearty sprinkling of salt, I knew what had to be done.
For some reason, Mom has a couple of cases of little canning jars just sitting around. These aren't the full on big ones, but small cute ones. The lids are white and have strawberries on them. But why does she have them? Mom always has a couple of projects in the wings. That's where I get it from. I feel odd if I don't have two or three things that need doing. I think the feeling is called sanity. At some point, Mom had decided that she really liked sweet jalapeno relish and would someday make her own, hence the jars. I'm not sure that project ever really took off, hence the completely unopened box of jars that I am not allowed to get rid of, because she's retired now. Truly these are the years of put up or shut up with my Mom. We'll see how many of the projects she has been talking about doing once she "has time" actually get done.
I snagged one of the jars, quartered the remaining lemons, carefully slicing away the rotted bits, and taking judicious taste tests to ensure what was left was edible. They were tossed with salt, and packed in and covered with more juice. I've been shaking the jar everyday, as per the recipe. Soon I'll have to come up with something to do with them beyond "open jar, eat." I can't wait for the rest of the tree to ripen. Truly, these are exciting, lemony, times.