A mediocre lemon bar is one-dimensionally sweet. A good lemon bar is tart, tempered by just enough sweetness to remind you it’s dessert. What kind of lemon bar would it be if there’s a mix of sweet, tart, and bitter? Apparently, it is not for everyone but those who like it, like it a lot.
A standard lemon bar recipe typically calls for making a lemon curd that sets after baking in the oven. The flavour of lemon curd comes from the use of zest and juice. Silky smoothness is prized above all. Then there is a whole other family of lemon bar/tart/pie that uses every bit of the fruit except for the seeds. Have you heard of Shaker Lemon Pie? How about Whole Lemon Tart? I am once again on a quest to empty my fridge of perishables so that bag of organic lemon became a convenient excuse to make David Lebovitz’s streamlined Whole Lemon Bar.
If you compare this recipe side by side with Rollet-Pradier’s Whole Lemon Tart, you would soon notice the similarities. Whole lemons are cut to pieces and pureed with eggs, sugar, cornstarch, and butter. The rind of the fruit adds a slightly bitter edge that I personally don’t care for when I taste the fruit filling by itself. But here’s the brilliant part. Once paired with the rich buttery shortbread base, the taste comes alive. I adore the balance of flavour that makes these lemon bar that much more lemony. It is not a dessert flavoured with lemon. It is lemon presented as dessert.
This winter I had the opportunity to experiment with many different citrus fruit. Despite living in a country where citrus doesn’t grow, there are plenty of different varieties that made their way up north. I used to feel torn about enjoying citrus in my attempt to eat local. I have since made peace with myself to allow for produce that doesn’t thrive locally as a treat. However, whenever I read about other bloggers step into their backyard to pluck a few rare breed of orange for a recipe, I can’t help but feel just a little jealous. Granted, it’s not like I go to my own backyard for apples or peaches because of my pathetic gardening skills. The notion is so romantic though that I can only hope one day I can do the same.
Better yet, I’ll just marry someone in California with a green thumb and a yard. Problem solved.
