Hold a plump, silk-skinned  Meyer lemon in your hand.

Caress it.

Close you eyes and breathe its intoxicating perfume.

Imagine its sweet tart taste of honey and thyme  on your tongue.


A Mother’s Day gift from my son this sturdy little tree spent the summer in the sun.


Now it grows in a corner window catching the sunlight.


Today I began to harvest my Meyer Lemon Tree.  I’m anticipating what I shall do with this precious fruit.

Perhaps I’ll candy the peel, dust it with superfine sugar and serve it with a glass of sherry.

Or rub a little of peel around the rim of a delicate demitasse of espresso.

Then again I could arrange thin slices of Meyer Lemon on to a pizza crust, top it with goat cheese and just the smallest amount of fine chopped rosemary.

I’m thinking sweet thoughts about my very own Meyer Lemons.  Pure bliss would be to use them in lemon curd or custard.

Even easier would be to grate my Meyer lemon into a bowl full  of sweetened whipped cream.

I could celebrate my harvest of lemons with a lemon gimlet.  I would squeeze one of the little darlings, add it with a touch of zest, soda water  and a goodly amount of vodka to a sparkling cut- glass  tumbler.

I always have Prosecco in my refrigerator.  For a treat I would take the lemon juice, add some simple syrup and a strip of peel and top my champagne glass with Prosecco

To go with my cocktail or Bellini I would cut pumpernickel bread into the thinnest of slices, spread a little sour cream on the bread some smoked salmon, thinly sliced lemon and a sprinkle of capers.

Of course I could make lemonade, stuff a duck,  make preserved lemons, put it on poached salmon, make lemon gelato.

Or just put these treasures   in a blue bowl and enjoy.


  1. What a glorious post, I could not make up my mind either and i am very impressed that these lemons grew on a tree in a pot! A little breakfast cocktail right about now sounds perfect! Maybe I will have my toast with marmite first though. ! c

    • It’s 7:22 am in Wellington. Good Husband just checked for me. There we are. Both working away at our computers, and for a brief moment connected. Toast with marmite is not a taste I have not acquired Celi. I admire greatly those who enjoy it. Have a happy time with your son. Virginia

  2. The heart the Wizard gave the Tin Man is filled with envy…..it has turned to most vivid pea green…….YOUR very OWN tree of Meyer Lemons!!! Oh you must have the book of spells hidden in your glorious home. Oh for a twist of peel for my espresso…..preserved Meyer lemons……..stop with your prosecco, I shall go mad! Lemon Curd and scones, smoked salmon from the river near your home….on pumpernikle with sour cream yet……you are the temptress…..now I stagger off to clear my head in the sunshine….you have enticed my with these culinary encantations…..fee-faw-fum….. I shall want for these lemons for days. I wish that you shall enjoy the succulent fruit of your tree and share with us the creations that the most illustrious Culniary Goddess Virginia shall contrive, design and otherwise concot. We, the mere mortals await your gifts!

    • The pressure is on.I’ve clicked my ruby slippers looking for the answer. What to create? What to cook? WHAT to drink? For the now the lemons in a blue bowl rest on the kitchen table. I am admiring their beauty even as I type. V.

  3. I am with Celi…..bring on the gimlet for breakfast; after all, lemon is a fruit. All I need now is a houseboy to offer it atop a silver tray.

    Tin man, what a glorious turn of phrase you have.

    I have sleep-overs at the farm so am here to tell you that my Virginia does have a book of spells hidden under their glorious home. I expect this will make the heart the wizard gave even greener.


  4. Oh tin man………let it be thus that your monkeys should fly passed my humble abode while dropping nuggets of chocolate covered drupes.

    Magic lives in those ruby slippers so, your desire to taunt this fair lady with a gimlet may find you by her fireside serving both drink and gifts from your flying monkeys.

    Until the magical, I welcome you to evermore be considered my beloved virtual houseboy.

  5. Oh Meece………..Would that I not drive away so thoughtful a gentleman.

    It is on the morrow and munchkins abound in their suits of blue. If I can find the yellow brick road I will follow it to munchkin country; they must be thanked for sending some of their own when needed. I shall explore when later this day I set foot outside for a breath of fresh air.

    Happy Birthday, dear Meester.

    • Nothing………but NOTHING will ever drive the Tin Man from Virginia or the Singing Sangster! Fear not, I shall always be near. When you are walking in the meadow and hear a squeak it may perhaps be me following at a proper distance as the Flying Monkeys run about and gather bouquets of wildflowers for the charming ladies.

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