In Praise of Preserved Lemons!

My jar of preserved lemons. The gadgetry on top is from Kraut Source — it’s a simple spring-loaded kit that lets you make small-batch fermented foods with a Mason jar. https://www.krautsource.com/

They’ve been around for almost a century, yet are unknown to many cooks and chefs. They’re used in Moroccan dishes such as tagine and mechouia, and in a Cambodian soup known as ngam nguv. Mention them in Turkey, Iran, and Israel and you’ll definitely get enthusiastic nods of recognition.

If all that makes you think preserved lemons are just an exotic ingredient, think again! These silken beauties are right at home in any cuisine.

The sky’s the limit once you explore the flavor profiles of preserved lemons, also known as county lemons or leems. They can be used anywhere you want a little dash of dazzle. Use a bit of the minced rind as a bright pick-me-up in pastas and pilafs. Put a dollop of the citrusy brine in salad dressings and Bloody Marys. Add one or two of the quartered lemons to grilling marinades, especially for fish. Prepared lemons are also my go-to stuffing for roast chicken – the combo of the rind and pulp lends a nice hint of citrus and helps keep the chicken moist.

A quartered preserved lemon — when cutting them, don’t slice all the way through. These little gems have become my go-to stuffing for roast chicken.

Your head may have cocked at the suggestion of using chopped up lemon rind, and rightly so. Usually, the yellow skin is only a zesty supporting player at best, and its bitter white pith is discarded. However, in preserved lemons, the whole rind gets a starring role, and it’s the fruity pulp that’s often ignored entirely.

There’s something about the process of preserving the lemons that turns the often neglected rind into a sublime ingredient.  It becomes silky, with an element of tangy umami.

As with many foods, preserving is just a way to maintain the use of a food long after its season has passed, and preserving lemons is easy peasy. You’ll need a clean quart jar and lid, a lot of Kosher (or similar coarse) salt, and four to six lemons.  Wash the fruit well, but don’t scrub – you want the lively flavor of the essential oils in the rind.

Without cutting all the way through them, carefully quarter two or three of the lemons and remove the seeds. Rub a good amount of salt onto the pulp of each lemon and cuddle them back together. Put a ¼-inch or so layer of salt in the bottom of the jar and tightly tuck the lemons into it, sprinkling more salt after each lemon. Don’t be stingy with the salt – that’s what does the preserving. (If your jar comfortably allows for a fourth lemon, have at it.)

Cover the jar and let the lemons sit out for a couple days so they slowly release their juice to make a brine. You’ll want liquid covering them, so if you need more juice within a day or so, that’s where those extra lemons come in. By entirely covering the lemons with liquid, you’re eliminating their contact with oxygen and preserving them by fermentation. This qualifies them as a probiotic food, with a purported increase in Vitamin B.

You could even add the juice of some Meyer lemons, which will impart a slightly sweeter taste. Meyers can also be preserved, though their thinner rinds aren’t the best for this application. Adding orange juice is also an option, though be mindful that it’s a lemon flavor you’re aiming for – preserved oranges (and other citrus) are a thing in their own right.

Some recipes also call for adding other spices – cinnamon sticks, juniper berries, etc. I don’t do that because it leaves the lemons as more of a blank slate for recipes, but … up to you.

As the lemons do their thing, there will be a white cloudy substance that forms, but don’t panic! It’s just part of the briny goodness, so give your lemons a stir or shake to incorporate it. (Obviously, if full-on mold develops, that’s another story, but that’s unlikely to happen if you’ve used enough salt, so – again — don’t be stingy.)

Usually you’ll get a whitish substance in the jar. It’s just part of the briny goodness, so give your lemons a stir or shake to incorporate it.

I like to leave my lemons out for at least a couple of weeks, then stick them in the fridge. Some recipes say you don’t need to refrigerate at all, so that’s up to you, especially if you fall in love with these golden beauties and are going through your jars lickety-split. As for shelf life, I’ve yet to have lemons go bad – their texture just seems to improve and gain depth, even after almost a year.

Whether or not you rinse some of the salt off before using will depend on your recipe and your taste. I use the preserved lemons straight from the jar for my roast chicken, but do give them a quick rinse before using them in recipes such as hummus or quick breads where I want more citrus zip than salt.

Hopefully, this inspires you to give this “exotic ingredient” a tour of your own kitchen. Indeed, when life gives you lemons, who cares about lemonade – make some preserved lemons!

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