Ingredients
Annette Tan explores the tart tale of the lemon and its eventual place at the heart of gastronomy
We explore the tart influence of the versatile lemon in gastronomy
When life first gave the world lemons, no one thought to make lemonade. Rather, the people of Assam in India, where lemons are thought to have originated, gazed at them appreciatively, much like they did tomatoes, which were also cultivated for ornamental purposes. The history of the lemon is a hazy one. There are few conclusions as to where the lemon originated, but it is thought that modern citrus trees are the descendants of natural species found in the abovementioned region, as well as northern Myanmar and western Yunnan. As the world’s climates changed, the plants spread out through to Southeast Asia and later, Australia, about four million years ago.
Lemons, along with other citrus fruit, eventually made their way to the Mediterranean (and by ‘eventually’, we mean 2,500 years after they were first cultivated) by way of Alexander the Great. They slowly spread to the Arab world and North Africa, where it dawned upon the intrepid Egyptians to sample the flavours of the fruit, bestowing them the honour of being the originators of lemonade. The Egyptians, too, receive credit for preserved lemons, today used widely in Arabic cooking and across western kitchens. The 12th-century Egyptian physician Ibn Jumay’s On Lemon, Its Drinking and Use is arguably the oldest and most lasting homage to lemons. It contains the first known published recipe for preserved lemons,
which has since been copied, refined and made popular by eminent modern-day food writers like Claudia Roden and Paula Wolfert. Truth be told, the history of the ubiquitous lemon is vague. It was only in the early 2000s that scientists discovered exactly what the lemon is thanks to DNA technology. As it turns out, the lemon is the love child of the citron (Citrus medica)—which has a thick rind and little juice (think the make-up of a kaffir lime)—and the sour orange (Citrus aurantium), the kind used to make marmalade. Over the centuries, lemons were utilised for a multitude of purposes, least of which, however, was cooking. From the 1700s, they were given to sailors as supplements to keep scurvy at bay—a single lemon provides up to 70 per cent of the average adult daily requirement of vitamin C. The use of lemon juice as invisible ink goes back a lot further, to least the 5th century BCE, and later became a standard supply for spies in the American Revolution, the American Civil War, and both World Wars. Lemons were also used as an early form of birth control. The ancients reportedly rubbed lemon juice over a contraceptive sponge, which was placed over a woman’s cervix to absorb and stop semen in their tracks. History goes that the chef who introduced lemons to western cooking is Francois Pierre de la Varenne, the author of Le Cuisinier Francois (1651). De la Varenne is credited with modernising French cookery by substituting rich stews and meats with fresh vegetables and sauces lightened with herbs and lemon juice. The most common lemons today are the Lisbon and Eureka varieties, popular for their textbook tart, acidic flavour. Meyer lemons, which are a cross between a lemon and mandarin are also popular for their lower acidity and floral undertones. Whichever you choose to use in your cooking, the adage, “a little lemon juice makes everything taste better” is tough to argue with.