Start some preserved lemons now and they'll be ready in time to give as Christmas presents; plus a simple salmon recipe; Sackler Off - Dopesick vs Painkiller; board game and comedy recommendations
(Not up for the chitchat? Completely get it. Click the email title to go to a web-based version then jump straight to the preserved lemons or Cultural Fun.)
I’m sorry about the lack of newsletter last week. Things got away from me. I was running workshops at the Garden Museum as part of their Branch Out programme, a series of Arts Council-funded free events. My biggest yet which were wonderful but exhausting. Usually when I teach at the Garden Museum it’s to seven people in the Food Learning Studio, a small, light-filled kitchen looking out onto the central courtyard. These sessions were much larger and in the main museum which, if you haven’t been, is in a converted church. It’s a gorgeous, high-ceiling space which gives a wonderful sense of airiness but does necessitate raising ones voice to be heard. I felt quite schoolmarm-ish. The workshops were oversubscribed too. It’s flattering to be in demand but led to a certain amount or argy-bargy amongst those who had turned up too late to get a space.
But I was really pleased with how they went. This was the calm before the storm: plenty of shredded veg, herbs, spices and salt just waiting for 20+ people on each session to turn it into their own jar of personally curated kraut. The feedback was very positive so hopefully there’ll be more of these events in the future. I’ll be sure to gargle with lemon and honey beforehand. You should make sure you’re subscribed to be the first to know.
I’ll be teaching another full Masterclass at the Garden Museum on 21st January next year. Tickets just went on sale but the previous events I’ve done there have sold out really really quickly and generated their longest ever waiting lists (!) so get booking quick if you’d like to come.
There are also more fermentation workshops and pasta classes at the Dusty Knuckle and fermentation classes at Borough Kitchen too (not all dates definitely taught me me - drop me a line if you want to check which classes I’m teaching).
I’m also available for private lessons in your home or mine. And vouchers make a great present if I do say so myself…
The shift to colder weather signals the start of citrus season so I thought it was high time we talked about preserved lemons. They’re super easy to make but the fermentation takes a long time so now would be a great time to get a few jars on the go to give as Christmas presents.
Preserved lemons are a commonly used ingredient in north African cooking as well as around the Levant and eastern Mediterranean. In the UK, they’re perhaps most associated with tagines (Felicity Cloake has a great recipe) but they’re really versatile and can lend their complex salty-sour flavours to many, many dishes.
Along with today’s recipe for the lemons themselves, I’m including a super simple way to flavour slow-roast salmon. We’ll return to the subject in a couple of months (once your jars are ready) as I absolutely love these lemons and have lots and lots of recipes incorporating them to share with you.
The theory at work is very similar to the brine pickles we’ve already discussed: pickled cucumbers and lacto tomatoes. But instead of the brine being made just of salt and water, here it’s made of salt and lemon juice. So there’s a sort of double pickle going on, first the citric acid of the lemon juice and then, as fermentation gets going, lactic acid.
The preserved lemons you see in the shops are often small, whole fruit floating in brine. These are usually a particular variety called Beldi lemons, common in north Africa but rarely seen here. They have a very thin skin so can be pickled whole. It’s the skin that is the desired bit of a preserved lemon and Beldi are said to be particularly aromatic. We’ll be using “normal” lemons, commonly available in the UK. They have thicker skin so we’ll chop them into quarters rather than pickle them whole.
Unlike a lot of the pickles we’ve made so far, these lemons aren’t something to eat on their own. They’re an ingredient. But you’ll find you can use preserved lemons almost anywhere you can use a lemon. It will bring that acidic brightness but also umami and a complexity of flavour not present in the raw fruit. Sweet dishes can benefit as well as savoury and, like I say, I have lots of recipes to share with you…
Recipe: Preserved Lemons
Makes one 750ml jar. Scale up or down as appropriate. See notes for additional flavouring ideas.
Ingredients
7 unwaxed lemons (or 6 and a pickle weight)
6 tbsp flaky sea salt
Chilli, herbs, spices (optional - see note)
Method
Make sure your jar is scrupulously clean.
Wash the lemons, remove any stalk remnants and cut six of them vertically into quarters.
Squeeze four quarters into your jar. Squish them really thoroughly, getting as much juice out as possible then drop the skin in too. Don’t worry about pips at this stage. They’re much easier to deal with once the lemons have fermented and are soft.
Add 1 tbsp flaky sea salt (if using smaller grained salt, a tsp will suffice).
Add a little of any extra spices if using (see notes).
Repeat these steps until all six lemons are gone: squish four quarters into the jar, follow with salt and spices.
Take the last lemon and cut it in half around the circumference. Taste a little of the lemony brine. It’s bracing! Ask yourself the question: “Is this more salty or more lemony?” You shouldn’t be able to answer. The brine should hang in perfect equilibrium between saltiness and lemoniness. If it tastes obviously very salty, add a little more juice from the final lemon. If more lemony, add a little more salt.
Use one half of the final lemon, cut side down, as a pickle weight to keep all the squished quarters under the brine (if you didn’t need the other half for juice, set it aside for some other purpose). Seal the jar.
Leave at room temperature, out of direct sunlight. The lemons won’t create much gas so don’t need regular burping but check occasionally that they are still covered by the brine – if they have begun to dry out top up with more juice or water or they will go brown and oxidised. If the pickle weight lemon half goes mouldy, replace it.
The lemons are ready when their peel is entirely soft and has lost its pithy bitterness. This will take anywhere between one and three months. Once ready, move the lemons to the fridge where they will keep indefinitely.
Notes (If Ifs And Ands Were Pots And Pans…)
The lemons are delicious made just with salt but you can add extra flavourings if you like. I suggest: a red chilli, sliced in half vertically (it looks pretty if you let it press up against the outside of the jar), a couple of sprigs of rosemary or thyme, a cinnamon stick, 1 tbsp black peppercorns, 1 tbsp coriander seeds, 1 tsp cloves, a couple of cardamom or star anise. Pick maybe two or three of these things and distribute them amongst the lemon quarters as you layer them up with salt.
You can do this with other citrus fruits. Lime works really well - it’s somehow zingier than lemon. And the floral bitterness of Seville oranges is lovely if you can bear to do anything with your haul than make them into marmalade. Oranges and grapefruit are also good but quite sweet so may need a bit of lemon or lime juice. I image yuzu would be wonderful but they are so absurdly expensive I have never tried. I’m about to experiment with some clementines for Christmas and will let you know how I get on.
Most recipes will tell you to discard the lemon pulp before chopping the rind very fine. This is usually referring to those thin-skinned Beldi lemons. I find, made like this, that by the time the lemons are ready, the citrussy brine and pulp have combined into a salty-lemony smoosh that coats the peel and you can use it all. I usually just tip a whole jar’s worth into the food processor (removing seeds first -very easy once everything is soft) and turn it into pureé. Returned to the jar and kept in the fridge it’s a great thing to have on hand.
Recipe: Slow-Roast Salmon with Preserved Lemons
The method for the slow-roast salmon came from Samin Nosrat’s wonderful book Salt Fat Acid Heat and I used it all the time. We had a big gathering-of-the-Heals recently to celebrate the fact my American cousin and his girlfriend were in town. I made this and it went down really well and was no work at all. It fed about 12 people as part of a spread. Probably more like 6 if it’s the major component of a meal.
Ingredients
2-4 fig leaves (totally optional)
1 side salmon (approx 900g)
2 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp finely chopped/pureéd preserved lemon
black pepper
Method
Heat the oven to 110°C.
Line a baking sheet with the fig leaves if using or some baking paper and lay the fish (skin side down) on top.
Drizzle it with the olive oil, add the lemon and a generous grinding of black pepper. Use your hands to rub everything in evenly.
Roast for approx 45 minutes until the fish is cooked through and flakes in the thickest part when you poke it.
Serve hot, warm or cold.
Notes (If Ifs And Ands Were Pots And Pans…)
The fig leaves are totally optional. I’m lucky enough to have a tree in my garden (although it is totally out of control so is going to get a radical hackback this winter). Even if pigeons and squirrels make off with most of the fruit, I still love using the leaves as they impart a subtle, coconutty fragrance to both sweet and savoury dishes. They give a little flavour to the salmon and make an attractive bed to serve it on but if you don’t have any don’t worry, it will still be delicious.
It’s a great flavour canvas. Instead of (or as well as) preserved lemon you could add chopped herbs, chilli flakes or any spices you fancy.
I served this as part of a spread with a spanakopita for veggies and various salads but it would make a an elegant meal with just a green or cucumber salad and some boiled potatoes.
The same method works well for individual fillets for a quick weeknight supper. They only need about 10-15 mins in the oven.
Cultural Fun
I don’t think I’m alone in being slightly obsessed with the story of the Sackler family and their part in America’s opioid crisis. There is plenty of distastefully rampant capitalism in the world but the Sackler’s particular brand of it, marketing their lucrative painkiller OxyContin as non-addictive despite plenty of evidence to the contrary, is thrillingly awful.
First I listed to the audiobook of Patrick Radden Keefe’s Empire of Pain, which is absolutely riveting - a multi-generational disfunctional family saga combined with a legal thriller. Then I watched Dopesick on Disney+ and we’ve just finished Painkiller, Netflix’s version of the same story. If you only have time for one rage-inducing drama series about modern American robber barons in your schedule, then I would steer you towards Dopesick.
Both follow a similar multi-strand format, following an OxyContin addict and their family, the drugs reps pushing the stuff to doctors, the Sacklers themselves and the lawyers out to bring them down. But structurally and tonally Dopesick worked much better and did a more effective job of making it obvious how the Sacklers were complicit in the scale of the opioid devastation and dramatising the dry but important legal work of taking them to task. Michael Stuhlbarg’s icily repulsive Richard Sackler is also more convincing than Matthew Broderick’s turn as the Purdue Pharma chairman and president which is weirdly goofy.
I’m yet to watch All The Beauty And The Bloodshed, the documentary by artist (and former Oxy addict Nan Goldin) or read Barry Meier’s book Pain Killer, but I’m sure I’ll do both as, like the product the Sacklers marketed, there’s something very addictive about the story of their greed.
We’ve got a particularly great new board game I want to tell you about. My Island is a legacy game. If you’re not familiar with the concept then, briefly, it’s a board game that changes as you play. Rules develop as you progress through a series of rounds and everyone has their own personal island playing board which evolves and changes depending on who wins or loses each game. There are envelopes to open with new rules and pieces and stickers to add and it all feels very exciting. It’s a sequel to My City which we loved and have given to many people of a variety of ages with much success. Highly recommended if you like easy-to-learn-but-strategically-interesting games and or/opening envelopes.
Another comedy recommendation for people in London: Max & Ivan are coming to the Soho Theatre with their (acclaimed Edinburgh) show Life Choices. We saw their previous show Commitment, about Max’s attempt to throw Ivan the absolute best stag party ever and it was the loveliest, funniest most joyful thing. The new dates aren’t until January but just letting you know.
Bye! See you soon!
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In Good Taste is a Sycamore Smyth newsletter by me, Clare Heal. You can also find me on Instagram or visit my website to find information about my catering work, cookery lessons and upcoming events.
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Thanks Lucy! It is my mission to make everyone fall in love with preserved lemons. They’re so versatile!