Volume 2

Fall/Winter 2023

COMING TOGETHER

In this, the second Volume of Digest, we have found our inspiration in the Fall and Winter months—the time of year when abundance leads to preservation, which then becomes sustenance at a time of scarcity. Our gardens and farms begin to tuck into the long hibernation they embrace as we meander through the shorter days and colder temperatures. The forests become quieter, and a stillness blankets the ground. The sun begins to distance itself as the days become shorter.

Admittedly, I struggle with this transition most years. The freedom and carefreeness associated with summer are difficult to halt as we shift back into our routines whether they be at school or work or home. However, the challenge is often short-lived, in that somehow, I’m quickly able to embrace the crispness in the air and the shifting colors of the landscape. Perhaps it’s the reemergence of my favorite sweater or the first few scarlet leaves on the side of The Corson Building or the realization that it’s soup season and (and I LOVE soup!) that helps make the transition easier.

As we settle into the cooler months, we begin to consider the rapidly approaching festive time of year when we gather around the table and share time with friends and family over a thoughtful meal. To me, the table symbolizes togetherness, collaboration, community, connection, sharing, reflection, and experience. At both The Corson Building and in our home, we cherish these collective moments as a time to reconnect and give thanks. Indeed, there are many difficulties we all face every day as both individuals and as a collective whole, but it’s when we take a moment and share a meal that these challenges either take the back seat or are discussed, considered, and maybe even resolved.

In the fall, we are overwhelmed with the abundance of the harvest. Summer collides into autumn, and we’re flush with everything from still-ripening tomatoes to the very first winter squash. The beginning of the apples, pears, and quince, along with the last of the myriad peppers and sweet corn fill our shelves as we embrace this bounty. In the kitchen, we experience an embarrassment of riches. There are days when we struggle to incorporate all that we have for it’s just too much! One must remind oneself that this won’t be the case in five months’ time when we are scraping the bottom of the barrel for the last of the winter roots as we anxiously await the arrival of spring. This adds even more motivation to attempt to preserve this moment for the time when a whisper of summer can be achieved simply by opening a jar of pickled peppers or unzipping a freezer bag of tomato paste.

Autumn rain and cooler temperatures assist in transitioning our pallets to more decadent flavors. The woods provide us with many wild mushrooms, such as chanterelles, porcini, and the coveted matsutake. Our gardens and fields are flush with hearty fall greens like kale, cabbage, and brussel sprouts. We pull sweet parsnips, turnips, and my favorite cold-weather root, celeriac, from the cold ground filling our pantries and coolers with a wealth of sustenance.

As fall fades into winter, we shift into the leaner months. The ground is too cold to produce much nourishment and the sun too scarce to be of any help. In its absence, we tuck in and begin the cozy gathering time of year. This season begins as a time of celebration for many, as we come together to share in festive meals and long-standing traditions. While this time can be busy and hectic, it’s not long before we are fully ensconced in the heart of winter. The mountains are (fingers crossed) cloaked in a deep blanket of snow and our fields and forests shimmer with frost. There’s a beauty and stillness that this season evokes. We tend to slow down and possibly find time to reflect and consider the past, the present, and the future.

For me, the colder temperatures provide a distinct clarity and perspective while outdoors. Although nature is in its dormancy, it still provides us with a tremendous allure and pleasure if we so desire. Often considered a challenging time to cook, winter’s roots and leaves sustain us through the sparseness of the season with their versatility and storability. While indoors, we find ways to nurture ourselves with hearty stews, slowly cooked braises and healing broths. We’re also drawn to faraway locales, turning to warmer climates for inspiration. The fresh ginger, lemongrass, and lime of Southeast Asian cuisines and the toasted spices and chilies of the Indian sub-continent and the Middle East work their way into our dishes achieving a boost of flavor and vibrancy.

From abundance to scarcity, the transition from fall to winter can be dramatic. Occasionally inhospitable, this time of year often brings us indoors. With this in mind, we consider coming together to be an imperative component of these seasons. In many cases, these gatherings will likely be around a table. Large or small, simple or elaborate, sharing a meal embodies togetherness. It keeps us connected, it keeps us whole. It’s through cooking that I feel most connected. Connected to my community and the earth, to the ingredients and myself. I’m profoundly grateful to be able to share my craft in a way that can bring people together as well as nourish them. It’s my hope that this volume assists in igniting your ability to come together in a way that feels meaningful and enriching for you and yours. 

-Emily Crawford Dann

INGREDIENT

Quince

Being our favorite autumnal fruit, the delightfully particular quince makes us work just a little bit harder to enjoy the deliciousness that it possesses. For thousands of years, quince has captivated both historians and the culinarily inclined for its symbolism, versatility, and uniqueness. With two trees in the garden at The Corson Building, we are lucky enough to have had many opportunities to work with this intriguing fruit. 

The quince is in the rosacea family and is closely related to the more familiar pome fruits, apple, and pear. A deciduous tree, the quince bears a striking similarity in looks to a pear, but is more oblong, with golden wooly down skin. Quite possibly the most intoxicating trait of the quince is its aroma, which is somewhere between an apple, a pineapple, and a pear, but with the sweeter floral notes only a quince’s perfume can hold.  

In season from October through December, this provocative fruit can’t be eaten raw. It’s hard and astringent flesh requires cooking for it to be palatable. Although there is arising curiosity regarding quince, its popularity today is minimal. It was, however, considered a kitchen staple until recently. We can speculate that it’s been relegated to the specialty produce category due to this need to be cooked. It preserves very well due to the high amount of pectin in its flesh, making it an ideal candidate for jams, jellies, and marmalades. In fact, the word marmalade comes from the Portuguese word for quince, marmelo.  

Commonly linked with the ancient civilizations of the Caucus Mountains, quince once grew wild in the foothills between modern-day Iran and Turkmenistan. The valleys below were frequented trade routes and quince quickly spread both eastward and westward, claiming names such as golden apple. In addition to playing a role in many different regions’ cooking, quince has a rich cultural and historical significance. As a symbol of love and fertility, ancient Greek mythology associates quince with the goddess of love, Aphrodite. According to this myth, wherever she walked, quince trees sprouted up in her path. A mainstay in Greek wedding ceremonies, quince baked into a cake with honey and sesame symbolizes the couple’s eternal commitment to each other through good times and bad. Given as a gift, quince represents a declaration of love. We like to think that this is true when it’s present in the food we cook. 

Although quinces need to be cooked before eating, they are quite versatile in the kitchen. Commonly used in preserves or desserts, they are equally delicious when added to savory preparations. Quince pairs particularly well with braised or grilled lamb or duck, baked ham or roasted pork loin, as well as with sheep and goat’s milk cheeses and even blue cheese. As a sweet ingredient, quince can almost always be swapped out for apple or pear in most recipes. One of our favorite sweet preparations is the traditional French dessert, Tarte Tatin. Instead of the more common apples or pears, we swap the former out for gently poached quince wedges. The result is a wildly delicious and beautifully pink upside-down tart, nicely caramelized, and offers just a touch of bitterness to offset the sweetness of the fruit. A simple poach or oven roast will yield delicate quince that can then be added to myriad other dishes. Simply spoon over ice cream or add to yogurt with some toasted nuts. You can also incorporate the fruit into salads such as watercress, slivered fennel, and hazelnuts or radicchio, raw celery root, and roasted squash. The poaching liquid can be reduced into a decadent syrup for glazing roasted meats or pastries, whisked into a sweet and savory vinaigrette for salads, as well as simply mixed with sparkling water or wine and lemon zest as a refreshing beverage.  

The evolution away from the “quick is best” approach to cooking is likely good news for our beloved outcast the quince. Just as beautiful on the branch as in a tart, quince remains an evocative fruit fit for any occasion. From wedding cakes to holiday roasts to spiced tagines and expressive preserves, quince maintains its uniqueness in all its iterations. While it’s likely not the most common fruit, quince continues to be cherished and appreciated by those of us who seek its distinctive flavor and charm.  

Poached Quince

WHAT YOU’LL NEED

  • 8 cups water

  • 3 cups organic sugar or honey

  • 2 fresh bay leaves (optional)

  • 1 vanilla bean, split

  • 1 teaspoon kosher salt

  • 6 quince

Quince is quite firm and can be a little tricky to cut so be extra careful when preparing it to poach.

  1. In a large pot that can accommodate all the quince in a single layer, add the water, sugar/honey, bay, vanilla bean and salt. Bring to a boil.  Simmer until sugar/honey is dissolved. Turn off heat and allow to cool to body temperature.

  2. While the syrup is cooling, start to prep the quince. Working carefully, peel, quarter and cut out the seeds.

  3. Add the fruit to the syrup. Bring to a simmer over medium heat. Once simmering, turn off the heat and allow the quince to cool in the syrup fully immersed.

  4. Store in the refrigerator. It will keep in syrup for several days.

  5. The leftover syrup can be used as a glaze when reduced down until it coats the back of a spoon.Delicious in sparkling water or in a salad dressing!

Quince Tarte Tatin

WHAT YOU’LL NEED

  • 10-inch circle of chilled puff pastry or pastry dough (rolled 1/8inch thick)

  • 2 tablespoons butter

  • 8 tablespoons sugar

  • 4 quince, quartered and poached

Preheat oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit.

In a 9-inch cast iron frying pan, melt the butter. Add the sugar and stir occasionally while it caramelizes over medium heat until the sugar melts into a dark amber color. To avoid burning, pull the pan from the heat just before it reaches the golden-brown color you’re hoping to achieve (it will continue to cook from residual heat).Make a ring of the poached quince pieces over the caramel in the pan, rounded side down. Make another circle in the center and fill in with more quince to cover the entire pan. Place the chilled pastry circle on top of the arranged quince. 

Bake in the oven for 30-40 minutes until the pastry is golden brown and the caramel is bubbling around the edges. Let cool for 5 minutes to firm slightly but not so much that it sticks. 

Set the serving plate upside down on top of the pan. Lift the two together, holding the plate as tightly as you can against the pan with a towel being super careful not to burn yourself with the warm pan or the hot caramel. Flip them over quickly inverting the tart onto the serving plate. Make sure to drizzle all the remaining caramel syrup on to the tart. There may be a few pieces of quince stuck to the pan—if so, simply remove them from the pan and arrange them onto the tart.

Serve with whipped cream, creme fraiche or vanilla ice cream. 

EVENT

Fall Floral Brunch
with Brita Fisher

I was recently asked how I define collaboration. Is it the integration of different skills to accomplish something greater than what would be achieved on one’s own? Is it combining different perspectives from the same discipline to achieve a more robust interpretation of the task at hand? At its core, a collaboration represents a confluence of efforts by two or more entities who decide to join forces for a specific and mutually beneficial purpose. I consider collaboration an opportunity—a way to learn, share and create something that may have otherwise been lacking if it weren’t for the coming together of more than one perspective. At The Corson Building, we try to incorporate these cooperative endeavors into our repertoire as often as we can. It allows us to work with interesting and talented people that we respect and admire. It’s within the vast parameters of collaboration that we continue to be inspired and motivated.

If there were another career I could choose for myself, it would likely be arranging flowers. It’s conceivable that I feel this way due to my proximity to the illustrious and talented Brita Fisher. Brita has been adorning The Corson Building with her beautiful floral masterpieces for many years and her gifted abilities are awe-inspiring. It’s with an effortless hand that she arranges whatever natural wonders the season has provided allowing the characteristics of each specimen to shine. Whether it’s the large arrangement that greets you as you walk in the front door of the restaurant, or the perfectly executed version of one of my poorly articulated visions of suspended branches in our private dining room, she always manages to capture the spirit of the space as well as the materials. 

At least once a year, we try to collaborate on a brunch and floral workshop at Corson.  This year, the very beginning of autumn was our calling. Inspired by a profusion of autumnal blooms and branches as well as an abundance of late summer produce, we invited folks to join us for an afternoon of floral arranging and eating. The day was crisp and grey—a perfect start to autumn. The workshop began with a demonstration of designing an arrangement. Choosing several selections from the floral offerings on hand, Brita articulated her thoughts and busied her hands while we sent out plates of squash hummus, marinated feta, tomato preserves, boiled eggs and vegetable crudité for everyone to snack on. 

As the demo wrapped up and we cleared the plates originally holding smoked sockeye salmon, green beans, our yogurt and za’atar, the attendees went to work on their creations. Over the course of an hour, everyone managed to construct their own unique masterpiece. Even with everyone equipped with the same collection of materials, it’s always so extraordinary to see all the personalized interpretations come together.

It’s the act of collaboration that leads us to this fruitful conclusion. It’s a coming together of talents to create a greater sum, which in turn enriched the lives of others. Food and flowers hold the power to nourish us (both literally and figuratively). This truth is one of the most fulfilling aspects of my work. The most remarkable part of it, however, is having the chance to do this work alongside such a gifted and inspired friend.

WINE

Why We Love Beaujolais

Yet, what would great terroir and unique grapes be without outstanding vignerons capable of writing their narrative? It’s here that the recent history of Beaujolais becomes really exciting. For much of the 19th Century, the best Crus of the region had a reputation that rivaled and occasionally even surpassed that of their more illustrious Burgundian neighbors. The ravages of the vine louse phylloxera and the tragedy of two World Wars, however, would have a withering effect on Beaujolais and by the middle of the 20th Century, things weren’t looking great. With the rise of powerful negociants who purchased much of the best fruit from growers, and the financial incentives to tailor production to the lucrative Beaujolais Nouveau, the prospects for finely tailored and terroir-driven wines were grim.

Into this void stepped a number of upstanding Vigneron with a commitment to producing wine of great quality. The so called “Gang of Four” (really a gang of six or more, but who’s counting) consisted of growers like Marcel Lapierre, Jean Foillard and Guy Breton who were able to appreciate the great potential of Beaujolais’ Crus and work with the passion necessary to produce wines of outstanding quality and character. The values that were paramount for these producers—organic farming, minimal use of sulfur, native yeast fermentation—all seem de rigueur for today’s contemporary natural wine producers, but they were truly groundbreaking in Beaujolais at the time. The wines that emerged from this revolution were nothing short of breathtaking and they changed both the perception and the direction of the region going into the 21st Century.

Here at The Corson Building, our wine program is inspired by stories like these and we aim to make the selections for our list and our Prix Fixe wine pairings deeply connected to these protagonists. At any given time, we might have 5-7 different Crus represented on our list, with the hope of providing our guests with a spectrum of Beaujolais to drink depending on their meal, the season or even the occasion. At the moment, our offerings range from the classic Fleurie of Clos de la Roilette—a wine of great depth and structure that still maintains the versatility of Gamay—to the “Les Michelons” Moulin-A-Vent bottling from young upstart Yohan Lardy. Lardy’s wine seems to walk the tightrope between a firm, almost brooding classic Moulin and the fruit and exuberance of a fresh-faced upstart looking to upend tradition. We are so grateful to the generosity of these Vignerons, who are providing us with such thrilling examples of the heights great Beaujolais can reach.

I’m somewhat ashamed to admit it, but it’s been almost 15 years since I last set foot in Beaujolais. I was lucky enough to be a part of trip organized by a national import and distribution company and they were proud to bring our group to the region, as their stable of producers operating in the area was really impressive. We arrived in late January amidst a substantial cold snap that had blanketed the vineyards in snow and made the tiny farm roads treacherous. As we entered the region and spent the next four days visiting its villages and Crus, meeting its Vigneron and tasting its delicious wines, it struck me how incredibly authentic this place really was. Yes, there was a youthful energy about the region (I remember meeting the then 17- or 18-year-old Damien Coquelet and being blown away by his talent), but the producers we met were clearly proud to be a part of the legacy of reinvigorating a culture that had such a deep history but had somehow lost its way. I encourage you to take a deep dive into the wines of Beaujolais. If you do, you will most certainly be rewarded with bottles that are incredibly unique, but also have a rich history to share.


- Matt Dann

As we enter November, the days here in the Northwest have become incredibly short, the rains have begun to intensify and the warm, rich and comforting food of the fall is on our minds. With the deep autumn as our backdrop, we wanted to consider the perfect wine for the season. Here at The Corson Building, we believe that no region produces better wines to accompany Fall and early Winter food than the humble Appellations of Beaujolais, France. The red wines from this region—produced from the oft-underrated Gamay grape varietal—range from the fruity and generous to the structured and dense. Across the board, however, they are a thrilling match for autumn food. The acidity and structure afforded by the best Beaujolais has a way of piercing the richness of the fall’s opulent stews and broths and its generous fruit almost always succeeds in drawing out the more subtle elements of this satisfying fare. While we could write a multi-page treatise on Beaujolais (and many have), our aim in this article will be to provide a gateway for exploration into this exceptional and unique place.

From a geographical and viticultural perspective, the borders of Beaujolais are the last vestiges of Burgundy in the north (personified by the limestone of the Mâcon) and the final reaches of the Northern Rhone region around the city of Lyon to the south. Despite its proximity and viticultural connections to Burgundy, it turns out that Lyon is the city where Beaujolais truly finds its home. From the red and white checkered table clothes of the city’s traditional Bouchons to the hallowed halls of Haute Cuisine, Lyon makes a great case as the culinary capital of France. It’s no wonder, therefore, that the city and its restaurants have come to embrace the wines of Beaujolais. To us, the appreciation for this linkage of culinary and viticultural tradition is an inspiration that reinforces our love for these wines.

Leaving Lyon and heading north, we begin our journey into the beautiful rolling hills of southern Beaujolais. This is the zone of humble Beaujolais AOC and the golden limestone soils that are the signature of this area. Most of the grapes grown for Beaujolais Nouveau (a sort of novelty wine bottled and consumed within just a few months of harvest) come from this region and its reputation for fine wines is limited. That’s not to say, however, that its grapes can’t produce excellent bottles and top producers like Jean-Paul Brun have made this area their home. It is not until we pass the small city of Villefranche-sur-Saone and head north that we reach the land of Beaujolais’ greatest potential. In truth, limestone is not the best conduit for growing great Gamay Noir. The granite soils of Haut Beaujolais in the north are Gamay’s natural home and this link between grape and terroir is one of the viticultural world’s great success stories.

When describing the Appellations of Beaujolais that produce the greatest wines, we must invariably reference the region’s 10 crus (from north to south)—St-Amour, Juliénas, Chénas, Moulin-à-Vent, Fleurie, Chiroubles, Morgon, Régnié, Brouilly, and Côte de Brouilly. Each of these crus, most named after a village or a geographical feature adjacent to a village, have their own characteristics, trademarks and idiosyncrasies. What’s remarkable, however, is that in such a small geographic area (perhaps no more than 20 miles in length from the north to the south) such a broad diversity of styles can exist from wines produced by the same varietal. Terroir certainly plays a major part in this process, as each cru varies somewhat significantly in both elevation and mineral composition of the soil. From the sandy granite and clay of St-Amour and Chénas, to the manganese rich pink granite of Moulin-à-Vent to the famous iron-laden decomposed schist soils of Morgon’s roches pourries or “rotten rocks”, each of these distinctive Crus boast a terroir with a story to tell.

PRODUCER

Local Roots Farm

Without a doubt, farming must be solidly positioned at the top of the “most challenging career” list. Physically demanding, chronically undervalued, and at the whims of Mother Nature, agriculture is rigorously hard work. Although we’ve seen some of our favorite farms make the difficult decision to shut down their operations, we’re still fortunate in the Seattle area to have access to many small properties owned and operated by incredibly gifted, motivated, and dedicated individuals. In the heart of the Snoqualmie Valley, our friends and accomplished farmers Siri Erikson-Brown and Jason Salvo nurture the better part of 15 acres on their fertile, river-adjacent farm. We met Jason and Siri nearly 20 years ago when they first started as young, ambitious farmers motivated by their love of food and their desire to be their own bosses. We continue to be in awe of their commitment to growing beautiful, delicious, and nutritious food along with their devotion to building community through food and farming.

After several months in Italy working on a farm, shopping at local markets, and cooking a lot, Jason and Siri returned home to realize that many of the ingredients they came to love weren’t readily available. So, what does an ambitious, soon-to-be farmer do? Grow the vegetables themselves in their home garden, of course. One thing led to another, and they went from growing fennel, Jerusalem artichokes, radicchio, and romanesco in their back yard, to renting land to farm themselves. Eventually, they made the leap to becoming farm owners. In the beginning, they grew a long list of crops and varieties while keeping detailed records about what thrived in this climate. Being especially interested in Italian vegetables (Jason’s dad lives in Sicily and they both studied Italian in college), they would buy anything Italian they could source stateside. When trying new varieties, they were most interested in which ones tasted the best. Siri says, “We are lucky to have a strong network of seed breeders and small seed companies in the PNW who care a lot about flavor. Any seed I buy from Uprising Seeds, Adaptive Seeds, and Wild Garden Seed I know is likely to grow well here and taste good.”

Being a consumer of what they grow, I can attest to their years of diligence in this department. As an ingredient-driven cook, I’m inspired by what the season is providing, particularly when it has been grown with thoughtfulness and integrity. I never doubt that what arrives from Jason and Siri will be supremely delicious and at its peak. I’ve fallen in love with many of the unique vegetables they grow and we’ve quickly aligned as co-conspirators to embrace these delicious but often underrepresented ingredients—most notably, radicchio. These bitter leaves are praised by some but avoided by many. Jason and Siri admit to becoming authorities on radicchio as a sort of accident. “In an effort to grow high-quality radicchio like we had seen and eaten in Italy, we ended up learning a lot about it. Our Italian skills enabled us to eventually connect with seed producers in the Veneto, and our friend Lane Selman (also of Sicilian descent) helped us create the Sagra del Radicchio in 2018, to get more people connected with and excited about radicchio.” says Siri.

Along with chicories, the two manage to cultivate many of the other extraordinary veggies we incorporate into our ever-evolving repertoire of seasonally inspired dishes. Year-round, we are the lucky recipients of Jason, Siri, and their entire team’s hard work and commitment to nurturing the land that they so diligently manage. The work they do is a vital part of our community’s culture and well-being. As caretakers of the land, we trust them to listen, observe, and foster what is most sustainable for the farm as well as themselves. In turn, we celebrate this focus and dedication by featuring the literal fruits of their labor on our menus at The Corson Building and beyond. Thanks to what Jason and Siri do, we are able to continue to feed people food grown with love and tremendous care, from the field to the kitchen.

STEP BY STEP

Our Yogurt

As a frequent ingredient on our menus at The Corson Building, preserved lemons are an invaluable part of our cooking. Their bright, lemony flavor shifts as it softens in the brine and the result implies the presence of citrus but tastes and behaves entirely differently than a fresh lemon. The origin of preserved lemons resides in the northern part of Africa, namely Morocco. Also used in dishes of the Indian subcontinent, preserved lemons are a fermented treasure that we’ve become quite fond of. With their unique and distinctive flavor, this pickled lemon lends depth and intrigue to many dishes.  

Preserving lemons is one of the simplest home preservation projects. First, the lemons are quartered, halved, or left whole while still intact at the stem. They are then packed in salt with a few spices, pressed to release some of their juice, and weighted down into a crock or jar and left out at room temperature. Over a few days, the juice is extracted from the lemons and dissolves the salt, thereby creating a brine. The optimal amount of time for the lemons to preserve properly and for their flavor to shift is 2 months. At this point, they can be moved into the refrigerator where they will last for up to a year when covered in brine.  

Delicious in salads, dressings, marinades, braised meats, with seafood, brown butter, grain dishes, and even ice cream, preserved lemons are incredibly versatile. They can be used whole, halved, thinly sliced, or finely chopped. Depending on how long they’ve been brining, they can be mild or quite pungent, so make sure to taste before incorporating them into a dish. The most commonly used part of the preserved lemon is its skin or rind. Most of the time we discard the flesh due to its tremendous saltiness, however, a little blitzed into a batch of bean or vegetable puree or even minced and added to the base of a soup or braise can be a subtle but effective way to add another layer of flavor.  

WHAT YOU’LL NEED

  • 1 ceramic or glass vessel large enough to hold 12 tightly packed whole lemons (ideally with a loose-fitting lid)

  • 12 organic lemons

  • 4 cups kosher salt

  • juice of 3 lemons

Optional:

  • 1 cinnamon stick

  • 2 tablespoons whole cardamom pods

  • 2 tablespoons whole coriander seeds

  • 2 tablespoons whole fennel seeds

  • 1 tablespoon black peppercorns

Step 1

Rinse lemons and remove any stems, leaves, or stickers

Step 2

Quarter each lemon perpendicularly making sure not to cut all the way through. Make 2 cuts, stopping just before you reach the stem.

Step 3

Combine kosher salt with spices of your choice in a large mixing bowl. Sprinkle a layer of spiced salt on the base of your jar or crock. Working over the salt bowl, fill each quartered lemon with spiced salt.

Step 4

Arrange the lemons snuggly in the jar or crock. Sprinkle a generous amount of salt between each layer of lemons. Once your vessel is full of lemons press them down releasing some of their juice. Add the juice of 3 lemons (per 12 lemon batch). This will help the salt begin to pull out the juice from the lemon creating a brine.

Step 5

Place a weight on top of the lemons. We use a ziplock bag filled with water to create an even distribution of weight. If you’re doing a smaller batch you likely won’t need the weight and the lemons will create enough brine to immerse themselves. Store lemons covered with a loose fitting lid or plastic wrap at room temperature for up to 2 months. Check the lemons every few days for the first 2 weeks to make sure they are creating the brine they need to pickle properly. You may need to press them down or stir them a bit to help the process progress. If after a week they haven’t created enough brine you can add a little water to encourage this to happen.

Step 6

After 2 months the lemons should be ready to use. Their skin should be soft and the flesh will be very supple. Refrigerate at this point.

To use the preserved lemons we recommend rinsing them first. Remove the lemon from the brine and make sure to press any other lemons you’re not using back under the brine and return to the refrigerator. Rinse the lemon(s) you’re using under running water or soak in a bowl of water to remove the spices and salty brine.

Step 7

Remove the flesh and interior of the lemon. This can be discarded. Place the lemon on a cutting board and separate each quarter. With a paring knife, slice the pith away from the rind.

Step 8

Depending on what you’re doing you can leave in large pieces, slice into julienne strips or finely mince the preserved lemon skin.