Charred Lemons or Charwoman, amirite??
I can’t get out this first sentence, because, well, I’m horny for that charred lemon look. I’m in their thrall, I’m lusty for lemons, I’m stopping to rephrase, look up and delete. Because I just - I’m vv into burnt citrus. It glistens, the colour goes crazy, there’s a savoury acidity to the air. Mmm! And charring the lemons is the most satisfying1 part of this recipe. You just cut ‘em in half and put them bare-faced down into the oil. And it sizzles and pops a little and you think it’s burning and then - you keep it there! Keep it burning until darkness creeps up the sides too. Oh! It’s so satisfying - like the signifier in a fantasy novel that the POV character isn’t just in a dream, but that dream is trouble - the tendrils of darkness consume you! Mwah ha ha2
It’s also as easy as it sounds. You put it in hot oil and let it do its thing. Then, when charred, you take it out, let it rest and do the two other main things required: toast the rice, add water. They also sound like easy tasks.
But.
I don’t have a medium Dutch oven3. Or, well, I do, but I think it’s more small than big, and it’s an oval shape.
And all of my hobs? Drastically, unabashedly, circular. So while the concept of toasting rice is fairly straightforward, the whole thing took so so so long. And I still wasn’t sure - is that a hiss of water still steaming from the washed rice, or a hiss-pop of rice dried to poppingness? I think think that if I did this again in a wider pot more suited to its gas-fired underquarters, then, yes, it would be easy. I just spent way, waaay longer than suggested 3 -5 minutes on this part, dashing the rice from hot centre to cool edges and back again.
The same problem occurred with the addition of water - it just took soo long to absorb. Luckily I had a nice bit of - was it Boston Legal? Yes, James Spader pottering about, harassing the Supreme Court4 on in the background. It really did take such a time that all my post-its looked on in vein.
Look, it was delicious. And if you’ve ever thought you might make sushi and then, just, not, AND you’re the type of girlie5 that keeps putting fresh lemons in her basket without exact plans for them AND you sub parmesan for nutritional yeast (or always have parmesan), then, yes, like Nigel Slater6, I say to you: this is a store-cupboard-ingredients, inexplicable-laundry-day-of-shopping, how-do-I-have-no-food? kind of meal. And if you use a proper saucepan (probably quite wide, shall test soon), then it probably does take one, not three, episodes of your binge-drama of choice.
I will not let up the charwoman comparison though. Girl was SWEATING by the end. My arms were aching like I skipped leg AND chest day to build up those sweet, sweet bis and tris.
But yeah, would eat/make/moan about again.
6/10 workout 8/10 meal
Another is pressing their cooled halves through a sieve. Ohh, it’s so gooey and nasty 😍 ↩
No, I haven’t seen the latest season of Wheel of Time, I’m saving it! Get off my back! ↩
Le Creuset, that’s what I‘m thinking, everytime, and when I read Dutch oven, I then need to regoogle it. Everytime. Yes, it’s just one of those Le Crueset pots (unbranded) ↩
Oh, halcyon days! The jokes they made about Roe Vs Wade, Brown vs Board of Education, NRA, Big Pharma - all the wild spins you might make about something so sturdy that any failure is just a feint. And yes, a few times each season Candice Bergen or Spader might testify about how the US Supreme Court has already started eroding those rights, but hey, still fun to joke about!7 Boston Legal is best accompanied with a serving of 5-4 pod. ↩
Gender-fluid term imo. ↩
Saturday Kitchen, you have three types of soft cheese and various fresh herbs knocking about. How Nigel!? Who does not have plans for that much cheese? ↩
I would never make such jokes about human rights in the E- oh, UK, I mean! ↩