Author: Julia Newberry

Guest Post: Julia’s Preserved Meyer Lemon Relish

The two Meyer lemon trees in our backyard went crazy this winter. My family has been enjoying the harvest in every way that we can, and handing them out to friends by the bushel. (Okay, I don’t actually know what a bushel is, but thought it sounded cool and homestead-y.)

When we are rich in Meyer lemons, I usually make a batch of preserved lemons using a method that a friend shared with me, which came from her Persian family recipe vault. They are super secretive about the recipe—she’s one of my best friends and I had to pry it out of her—so I won’t get into specifics, but the gist is that you dry lemon slices in the sun with a bunch of salt, then you preserve them in olive oil. They are incredible, but a little labor-intensive. And they require sunshine, which we do not have at the moment in rainy Northern California.

So, I decided to try a different method this time, where you let the lemons sit in salt and their own juices until the rind becomes soft and flavorful. I found many recipes for this method, and they all seemed quite similar. I used the Ball Complete Book of Home Preserving as a general guide.

My twist on the basic recipe is that I’ve front-loaded the work of chopping the preserved peel every time you want to use it. Once the preserved lemons were ready, I threw the rinds into the food processor and now I have a chunky relish that I can, and do, spoon on nearly anything: a bowl of beans and greens (of course), soups, salads, sauces, marinades, dips. The options are endless! Last week, my husband and I splurged on fresh Dungeness crab and he stirred a spoonful of the relish into the melted butter that we used for dipping. Wow. Just wow.

Note: A little of this stuff goes a long way. When you’re adding it to a dish, start off with less than you think you’ll want. You can always add more if it’s not enough.

Rancho Gordo Large White Lima beans, baby arugula, and preserved lemon relish.

Preserved Lemon Relish

12 organic lemons, preferably Meyer lemons (about 3 pounds)
1/2 cup sea salt
One quart jar or 2 pint jars
1 cup extra-virgin olive oil (optional)

  1. Sterilize the jar(s) by boiling in hot water for 10 minutes. Keep hot until ready to use. Wash the lid(s) and band(s) with warm, soapy water.
  2. Juice 6 of the lemons. You should end up with about 1 1/2 cups lemon juice.
  3. Wash the remaining 6 lemons well, then pat dry. Cut a thin slice off the stem end of each lemon. Starting with the cut end, cut each lemon into 4 quarters, leaving the bottom end connected by about half-inch of fruit.
  4. Pour 1 tablespoon of the salt into the bottom of the sterilized jar(s). Hold one lemon over the jar, fan open the lemon quarters, and pour about 1 tablespoon of salt into the middle. Rub in the salt a bit so it adheres. Place the lemon in the jar and repeat with the remaining lemons and salt, packing the lemons tightly into the jar(s). I was able to fit 6 lemons into a quart-size canning jar. Cover with any remaining salt.
  5. Fill the jar(s) with the lemon juice. The juice should reach to about 1/2 inch of the top. Add more if it doesn’t. Add the lid and screw the band on tightly.
  6. Store the jar(s) of lemons in a cool, dark place, or in the refrigerator, for about 2 weeks. Shake the jar(s) every day or two to evenly distribute the salt.
  7. After about 2 weeks, the lemon rinds should be soft and ready to use.
  8. To make the relish, remove and discard the pulp and membrane from each lemon. Place the lemon rinds in a food processor and pour in about half of the liquid left in the jar. Pulse until the rinds are roughly chopped. You can add more liquid if you like, or discard it, or save it for another use. You can also chop the rinds by hand if you don’t have a food processor available.
  9. At this point, I divided the lemon relish among smaller (sterilized) jars so I could share some with friends. You could also return it to the original jar and keep it all for yourself (which I probably should have done). If you like, you can top with olive oil to mellow out the flavor.
  10. Store in the refrigerator for up to 6 months.

Julia Newberry is General Manager of Rancho Gordo and is the co-author of The Rancho Gordo Vegetarian Kitchen (Rancho Gordo Press, 2017)

Guest Post: Julia’s Cassoulet Moment

Over the summer, I was lucky enough to get to spend three days at Georgeanne Brennan’s house while we shot photos for our new cookbook, French Beans. When I wasn’t trying to pretend I was a prop stylist or a food stylist, I was hovering around her kitchen, watching her every move. Mainly, I was just trying so soak up some of her kitchen zen, the way she calmly moved about, checking on something in the oven, stirring croutons that were crisping on the stovetop, chopping herbs, humming quietly to herself.

On the last day of the shoot, chef Sarah Scott was nice enough to come and help with food prep. Cassoulet was on the shot list, and we were all excited. I watched intently as they readied the ingredients: the beans, the aromatics, the pork belly, duck confit, and pancetta. There are so many steps involved in this dish but Georgeanne methodically worked through them, making it all look pretty effortless. And then, three or so hours later, what emerged from the oven was a masterpiece—a bubbly, crusty, masterpiece.

It was torture not to dig in immediately, but first Steve had to take the photos. So. Many. Photos. Finally, it was time to eat. We heaped piles of still-warm cassoulet into bowls. We stood there, shoveling mouthfuls of beans and sausage and duck bits into our mouths. It was not an elegant scene. But it was certainly a glorious food moment that I’ll never forget.

Recently I decided that I wanted to make cassoulet for some of my friends, so they could experience the warm, convivial feeling of gathering around a big dish of bubbling beans and meat and just digging in with wild abandon. 

I stocked up on our Cassoulet beans, grown in California but bred from French Tarbais seed stock. I placed an insanely large order with The Fatted Calf here in Napa. And Steve was nice enough to lend me his cassole made in France by the iconic Poterie Not Frères.

Then, I opened up my advance copy of French Beans, and doing my best to harness Georgeanne’s kitchen zen, I got to work making her recipe,  “Cassoulet, More-or-Less Toulouse-Style.”

I cooked the beans:

Then cooked the meat and layered ingredients in the pot:

And, of course, dotted the top with pork fat:

While the cassoulet baked in the oven, my daughters helped me with the table settings and flower bouquets.

It was a gorgeous, warm fall evening in Napa and we carved out some space in our backyard for outdoor dining.

Three hours later, just as the first guests were arriving, the cassoulet emerges from the oven!   

Steve had warned me not to eat right away, that the cassoulet needs some time to sit. I had this in mind when I went downstairs to socialize, sip Champagne, and enjoy the cheese plate a friend had brought over. Before I knew it, over an hour had passed and I had almost forgotten about the cassoulet! We gathered to eat and even though we may have waited a bit too long, luckily, the cassoulet was still steaming hot.

We had 12 people total for dinner, and with a simple salad and some fresh bread and butter, this was just about the perfect amount of food.

Because the recipe says it serves 8, I actually had doubled it and baked an extra cassoulet in a Dutch oven, using my neighbor’s oven, but it hardly got touched and we had lots of leftovers! We shared plenty with our neighbor, in hopes that she would forgive us for the outdoor party that lasted well beyond bedtime.

Julia Newberry runs Rancho Gordo and was my co-author on The Rancho Gordo Vegetarian Kitchen. We’re lucky to have her for so many reasons, but this post makes it clear why.

French Beans by Georgeanne Brennan (Rancho Gordo Press) will be available late Fall 2018
– Steve