Contrary to what most think, citron is not the plural of all citrus fruit. Citron is actually it’s own breed and is said to be the oldest form of citrus that originated in Southeast Asia. Although citron is now grown in many more countries around the world, it’s rarely found fresh in the US and, when it is, it’s usually only available in specialty food shops and high-end grocery stores like Whole Foods. Having said this, if you ever see it, I suggest you hoard it since, when freshly candied, citron tastes unbelivably floral and has a dense, chewy texture that translates into an overall exquisite eating experience. Oh–and just in case you think you’ve tried citron and don’t like it because the only kind you’ve had is store-bought–There is NO comparison between homemade candied citron (as well as candied orange and lemon rind) and the small, hard, placid squares found in the supermarket (or even on the web)! Trust me, it’s like comparing a gorgeous palace with a bowling alley.

Now that I’ve hopefully peaked your curiosity, here’s what a fresh citron looks like…

They can grow to be ridiculously large–but are most often sold like above, the size of a very large pebbley looking lemon that’s the size of a grapefruit–This (above) or a bit smaller is the size I’m talking about and is what you should use to make candied citron.

The interior of citron is not at all the prize–the flesh is dry (like an over-the-hill orange) and a bit leathery–It’s the outer rind that you want. Fresh citron has a hard, thick outer rind and the fruit looks like this when cut open. (The “rind” is considered everything above the interior fruit-flesh.)

See how thick the rind is?? After a series of blanching, draining and then long, slow cooking in a thick sugar syrup, the thick, initially intensly bitter layer of white pith is rendered much less bossy– retaining just enough bite to spar playfully with the candy.

See how little fruit there is in comparison to the rind?

After cutting citron into wedges, you need to remove the inner fruit. You can use a grapefruit spoon. I just use my fingers to pry it out.

Boil the peel 2 times (uncovered), over high heat, in two separate batches of rapidly boiling water, for 10 minutes each time. (8 minutes each for thick-skinned oranges, lemons and grapefruit). As a time saver, I bring two pots to a boil, then after blanching the first time, I just drain the peel and then dump the pieces into the second pot. If you use one pot, rinse the interior after draining and fill with fresh water–bring to a boil and proceed.

Here (below) is the citron after the first blanching. Although initially very rigid, the rind starts to soften.

Here is what they look like after the second blanching. Much more bendable.

For 1 or 2 citron (or 2 oranges and 2 lemons and 1 grapefruit): After draining the blanched citron strips, I make a sugar syrup in a 12-inch, deep-sided skillet with 3 cups water, 3 1/2 cups granulated sugar and 1/2 cup light corn syrup. The syrup is important to keep the citron supple, after cooking.

After whisking together the syrup ingredients, bring the mixture to a boil. Add the blanched citron to the boiling syrup.

Place a sheet of parchment paper directly over the top (actually sitting on the fruit and syrup).

Place a heat-proof bowl on top of the paper, to help weight it down.

This set up (above) helps to prevent excess condensation from forming and diluting the syrup. The goal is to reduce the syrup slowly–keeping the peel submerged.

Turn the heat to low and simmer the citron rind at a slow but bouncy bubble for between 1 3/4 to 2 hours (about 1 hour for oranges, lemons and grapefruit).  After each 30 minutes, lift the paper and check how things are doing.

The point is to simmer until the syrup completely penetrates (permiates) the white pith. Once very tender, remove the paper and raise the heat, only to medium.—Now you’ll cook the liquid a bit more briskly in order to evaporate some of the water in the already reduced syrup. The syrup will seem very foamy on top and will bubble quite furiously.

As the liquid reduces, lower the heat. At this point, let your nose be your guide. Don’t allow the liquid to color beyond a very light amber. You will smell the syrup turn–this is when it becomes candy–if you let this go too far, the syrup will be too flavorful and will overwhelm the citron with an overly cooked taste.

Here is how the citron should look when you remove it from the syrup. It should be perfectly tender and the syrup should hug the rind.

Spray a wire cooling rack with flavorless vegetable spray and lay the candied citron on the rack in a single layer. If planning to sugar-coat the pieces, only allow them to settle until just warm. If allowed to sit too long, the outside will lose it’s sticky quality, which is what the sugar needs to adhere to.

After rolling in sugar, place back on the rack and allow them to dry for a few hours. Cover and store at room temperature.

Below is a combination of candied and sugared orange and lemon rind.

(Be forwarned, all types of sugared-candied citrus rind are, for me, a real weakness. When it’s in the house, it haunts me until every last strip is gone!)

If not planning to sugar-coat, then allow the pieces to dry on the rack for a few hours or overnight. Use an oiled chef’s knife to cut into small pieces …

Chopped candied citron…

Chopped candied orange and lemon rind…

Isn’t it amazing how you can almost experience the vibrancy of flavor just by looking? Just delicious!!

Oh–and if wondering what you might do with the candied chopped up citron, lemon and orange rind. How about some Panettone!

And how about…

Hot cross buns! (Recipe coming…)

The Point: Although, because of lack of availablity (and or timing constraints) we will, at times, need to use store-bought candied citron as well as other kinds of rind. But, since oranges, lemons and grapefruits are always available and since the eating experience with the homemade version is so elevated, I wanted to show you how do it yourself. I promise–the taste and texture is worth every second!

Tags: candied citron recipe, candied citrus rind recipes, easy candied citrus rind recipe, homemade candied lemon rind recipe, homemade candied rind, how to candy citron, what is citron?

Comments (1)

I’ve been asked a few times since my pumpkin blog if there is an easy way to separate the stringy pumpkin matter from the seeds (when wanting to cook the seeds). The answer is “yes” and here’s how:

After halving the pumpkins and scooping out the seeds and strings, place all of it into a bowl.

Then cover the contents with cold water. Use your hand to swish everything around, helping to separate the seeds from the strings, so it all sits freely and then watch what happens! After a minute or two, since the density of both are different, each will behave differently in water. The pulpy pumpkin strings will sink and the seeds will float and will look like this…

Then, just use your hand to scoop (skim) the seeds out of the top of the water. Pick out any few stray pieces of pumpkin strings. Then rinse, blanch, season, roast and eat up!

Tags: how to work with fresh pumpkin seeds, pumpkin seeds

Comments (0)

Jon, my husband, has always been my muse.  He says things that make me laugh, he provokes me to wonder, to debate, to investigate and, once I officially solidify my thoughts, his supportive nature makes me brave enough to share those thoughts with the world. I’m inspired by his calmness and also by his ability to take a passionate stand. I’m continually surprised by his unique combination of incredible strength, intellectual smarts AND an ironic inner innocence–this sweet desire to trust, when there’s so much (everywhere) to instigate wariness.

Like just the other day–We were at the airport going to Florida to celebrate my father-in-law’s 89th birthday and Jon says to me “Lauren, do you think they’re going to give us something good for lunch on the plane?” I said …”Jon, they just made us pay $20 extra for each piece of luggage…Do you really think they’re going to “give” us lunch??”

And– when I see Jon eating fruits and vegetables without necessarily washing them first–just “because” they’re labeled “ORGANIC! (Of course, this always drives me crazy…)

Just like when a mother sees a child about to put a dirty grape into their mouth –I immediately feel my adrenals kick in, wanting to protect my husband– So, I’ll blurt “Jon, wash that!” His reply? “Why? It’s organic.” (“Oy vey,” I always say…)

Listen, if you (who are reading this) are anything like Jon–please hear this! Even if you buy vegetables and fruit from a store that swears up and down, all about the purity of the soil used to grow their wares, this has NOTHING to do with the need to wash things before you eat them.  The word “organic” simply indicates that those doing the growing had a certain level of both consciousness and conscientiousness, which is good (very good, indeed!), but that’s ALL it means.

Here are some things that the word “organic” DOES NOT address: The personal hygiene of the people doing the harvesting and packaging, the cleanliness of the floor of the farm-facility (or of the truck) that transports a crop–AND, it also doesn’t relay any information about the integrity of the destination (the place where you’ll make your purchase). And, even if the place is pristine, there is NO WAY to know if, five minutes ago, a person who was standing where you’re standing now was wearing shoes that have remnants of lovely things like dog poop– And, what happens if this person drops a gorgeous head of organic lettuce on the floor–and this person (with the dirty shoes) puts back that head of lettuce to get one that didn’t fall on the floor… (You get the picture).

My apparent paranoia is not unfounded. I’ve been in well-respected “gourmet” shops and have seen merchants place a seeping package of raw pork directly on top of a batch of fresh muffins (unwrapped muffins!)–I’ve seen freshly roasted chickens, sitting out in the open where customers have coughed and/or sneezed directly on top of them and then just walked away–totally oblivious. I’ve seen tubs of peeled garlic fall on the floor, sending the little nuggets all over a dirty floor and then watched, as the shop-keeper simply scooped them up and dropped them right back into their container. Oh, I’ve seen a LOT, trust me.

The point: Although, at times, I do admit that it would be nice to be more like Jon and just assume that produce labeled organic guarantees that it’s spanking clean and ready to meet and greet one’s saliva, I truly don’t suggest it–I do love, though, having a partner that continually keeps my head and heart fully engaged. I guess that’s what having a muse is all about…Laur

Comments (6)

Some of you who are reading this, who have not, as of yet, made shared home-cooked meals a priority, might be thinking that “it’s too late to begin.” I want to encourage you to believe that it’s never too late to begin something—anything—that’s positive.

Regardless of your age, your marital status, the ages of your children or grandchildren, I give you my word, that you will see an immediate shift in “the feeling” in your home, thus in your life, once you decide to cook from a loving, joyful place within you, and then choose to practice that decision religiously, it will become a trusted reality.

When out in the world, no matter how disappointing the day, or how misunderstood your interpersonal exchanges have left you feeling, when you stand in a home that’s filled with the scent of thoughtfully-prepared food cooking, suddenly the world changes. The impossibility of issues that you’ve tagged “out of your control” leaves the forefront of your mind and heart. Things immediately feel safer, softer and warmer, and you are reminded that there are wonderful things in your life to be touched, to be tasted, to be shared, to be grateful for, that are always within your reach. My point is that the kitchen is a perfect place, a sanctuary of sorts, and the wholesome art of cooking is the most amazing vehicle to help you to begin to rebuild and replenish a life that feels pulled and pushed and stretched—even one that’s reached the point of becoming unbearable.

If you can’t get your kids to talk to you openly and honestly, if you secretly feel sorry that you’ve never deemed your sense of “hominess” (your softer side) to be a valuable part of your inner being, if you feel worried that your tallied professional accomplishments might leave you dealing with a pile of private regret, or if your boss doesn’t “get you” and you wish you had a daily way to strengthen your core self, your kitchen can help you to fix all of these things, starting now.

To clarify, this is not about over investing in the act of eating; it is about embracing your nurturing power to make your home into a trusted place that’s deliberately injected with a healing calm. It’s about having a place to connect to those who do “get you,” a place that helps you to feel that you have more control over your quality of life, no matter what the outside world dishes out.

Let me help you to use your kitchen, your magic room, to make your home life as loving, as fortifying and as sensory rich as possible. That’s what my work and life is all about. Please email me at asklauren@laurengroveman.com and share with me the issues that keep you from having the nurturing life that you deserve. That’s the first step to creating a healing home. (Of course, all correspondence is kept confidential!)

And remember—even if your outside life sometimes leaves you feeling excruciatingly small, even you can live a truly gigantic life at home. It’s never too late to begin.

Comments (0)

Often, when a recipe asks for “a large onion chopped,” it can be difficult to decipher just how “large” the author of a recipe means, especially if there’s no net amount of onions given, after chopping. Personally, I use really large onions in my recipes… like this:

Now, THIS is an onion!

To show you how large I mean, compared to something else, take a look…

See how big I mean??

You might not think size matters but, with onions it often does. If, for instance,  you want to garnish something lavishly with sauteed onions, you need to know that onions reduce quite a bit after cooking, so if you don’t start out with one that’s large enough, you might not have enough to do the job.

Also, when onions cook and become tender, their cell walls collapse and the liquid inside the cells is released along with flavor. As they become caramelized, the liquid becomes further reduced, leaving the sugars in the onion flesh to become “candied” from long, slow exposure to heat. So, if your recipe doesn’t call for “large” onions and you use one of these big babes featured in the pictures, you could end up with a savory dish that’s overly sweet.

Although it’s best to give an exact amount in recipes where it counts, this is not always the case.

The point: In my recipes, when I don’t give an exact amount of onions, but I ask for a “large” one in the ingredients list, it means that I want you to really experience the onions as an important component of the dish. So, if you don’t have the really big onions, feel free to use two medium ones. To see a preview of the video where I demonstrate the correct way to chop onions, click here.

Tags: cooking with onions, large onions, onions, recipes with onions

Comments (0)