Manor House 1690

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  • Manor House 1690 | Preserved Lemons for Lucy Brazier

Manor House 1690 | Preserved Lemons for Lucy Brazier

8.50
manorhouse1690_1690_preserved_lemons.jpg

Manor House 1690 | Preserved Lemons for Lucy Brazier

8.50

There is a custom in Scarborough, from where I hail, to go sea swimming on Christmas morning. Although the thought of submersion into sub-zero temperatures is enough to make me feel a kind of stricken nausea, I can appreciate the singular motivation for plunging into sheet ice to observe the Lord’s birthday (I mean, the guy went through hell). Imagine my horror though, when I became aware that there is a band of ladies in the South West who actively take the plunge on a daily basis, just for the sheer nipple-hardening hell of it. Such a one is the writer, River Cottage tutor, mother of three and would be side-splitting, side-kick wife, Lucy Brazier. I have yet to meet this woman. I know almost nothing about her. But her zest for strife and pithy Insta posts have aroused in me such a remote camaraderie - and if I’m entirely honest, such a crush - that she has become the inspiration for this cheerful jar of lemons, preserved as I suspect is the gal herself, in salt. Quite apart from adding a desirable aesthetic to the kitchen décor, once softened and well-preserved, lemons are an extremely versatile, store cupboard standby. Use them with abandon to pep up roasts, stews and sauces; chop them into salads, stuff them into birds, squish them into fish: their flavour, like LB’s chat, is unashamedly fruity, redolent of sunshine and actually only mildly tarty. Mate. You and me.

Ingredients: lemons, sea salt, bay leaves, black peppercorns, coriander seeds, lemon juice, water

Weight: 450g ℮

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There is a custom in Scarborough, from where I hail, to go sea swimming on Christmas morning. Although the thought of submersion into sub-zero temperatures is enough to make me feel a kind of stricken nausea, I can appreciate the singular motivation for plunging into sheet ice to observe the Lord’s birthday (I mean, the guy went through hell). Imagine my horror though, when I became aware that there is a band of ladies in the South West who actively take the plunge on a daily basis, just for the sheer nipple-hardening hell of it. Such a one is the writer, River Cottage tutor, mother of three and would be side-splitting, side-kick wife, Lucy Brazier. I have yet to meet this woman. I know almost nothing about her. But her zest for strife and pithy Insta posts have aroused in me such a remote camaraderie - and if I’m entirely honest, such a crush - that she has become the inspiration for this cheerful jar of lemons, preserved as I suspect is the gal herself, in salt. Quite apart from adding a desirable aesthetic to the kitchen décor, once softened and well-preserved, lemons are an extremely versatile, store cupboard standby. Use them with abandon to pep up roasts, stews and sauces; chop them into salads, stuff them into birds, squish them into fish: their flavour, like LB’s chat, is unashamedly fruity, redolent of sunshine and actually only mildly tarty. Mate. You and me.

Ingredients: lemons, sea salt, bay leaves, black peppercorns, coriander seeds, lemon juice, water

Weight: 450g ℮