For a period of my childhood I was fortunate enough to live in a delightfully old house (built in 1909, to be exact), on a small, sleepy street that teamed with elderly neighbours. Some of them had lived in their respective houses for decades upon decades, but Eunice was not one of them. I really can’t recall how long she’d lived in the tiny creamy beige hued house directly across the street from us, but I don’t think it had been more than a couple of decades.
An English immigrant, she and her husband had come to Canada somewhat later in life and eventually settled on the very same street where I lived for a spell. Enchanted with all things British as a child and charmed by Eunice’s kind, spunky attitude, we quickly became friends.
If there was one thing I liked almost as much as listening to Eunice’s tales of life in England during the war years, it was when she would stop by and treat our family to a jar or two of her sublimely delicious lemon curd. In fact, it was this darling elderly English woman who provided me with my very first taste of the creamy, tart, sweet, immensely addictive spread that is lemon curd.
You can imagine my delight then when one day Eunice stopped round to ask if my little brother and I would like to help her whip up a new batch. With eyes wide as the saucer she rested her mixing spoon on, I stared intensely as Eunice turned a small handful of everyday ingredients into one of the tastiest substances my young pallet had thus far enjoyed.
I’ve always treasured times when I’ve been able to learn recipe’s firsthand from other cooks and loved that I was able to come away from that day not only with a very fond memory, but also with Eunice’s recipe for lemon curd. Whether it was one she perfected herself or sourced from someone else, I really do not know.
Over time I’ve tweaked little about her version – save for occasionally replacing the lemon juice with that of another fruit such as limes (you may want to add even slightly more sugar if you go this route), mangoes, or blood oranges. The ingredients are just as Eunice stipulated, though the instructions are in my own wording.
{This beautiful old fashioned fruit crate label calls to mind the sort I like to imagine the containers of lemons Eunice brought home (when she was a young homemaker) being adorned with. Image via Vintage Holiday Crafts.}
To my mind lemon curd finds its most perfect mate with a piece just prepared toast, the refreshing, tangy coolness of the curd marrying harmoniously with the soothing warmth of the bread. This spread however, works well on a multitude of other baked goods, too, from English muffins (naturally) to scones, blueberry or poppy seed muffins to biscotti (in the case of the latter, use the curd as a dip for these crisp Italian cookies).
It can also be employed with equal success as a filling (think cakes, trifles, cupcakes, doughnuts, cheesecakes and tarts – to name but a few possible uses) or thinned out a tad and drizzled over everything from pound cake to French toast, Greek yogurt to ice cream (it marries particularly well with berry flavoured frozen desserts).
If you’ve never treated yourself to lemon curd before, I can scarcely begin to tell you what you’ve been missing. If you like custards, lemon and/or jam, there’s a very high chance you’ll fall, just as I first did as youngster, head-over-heels for lemon curd and soon yourself mixing up batches to give away to your friends and neighbours, just as Eunice used to love to do.
Ingredients
• 3 large lemons (if you can get Meyer lemons, all the better, they have such a beautiful, gentle flavour)
• 4 extra large eggs
• ¼ cup unsalted butter (allow to come to room temperature before using)
• 1 ½ cups white sugar
• ½ cup lemon juice (this equates to the juice of about 3 to 5 lemons, depending on their size)
• Small pinch of fine sea salt
Directions
Notes: While it may not actually make too much of a difference, I like to have all of the fruit and fruit juice I’m going to use in this recipe at room temperature before beginning.
Start by washing and drying the lemons thoroughly, then with a citrus zester or vegetable peeler, zest (remove in strips) all of the peel (try to avoid hitting the bitter white pith that lies between the peel and the fruit’s flesh). Chop the zest very finely by hand or in a food processor. In a mixing bowl (or in the food processor) combine the lemon zest with the sugar and mix (or pulse) well.
In a separate bowl, cream the unsalted butter well with a wood spoon, then add in the lemon and sugar mixture, stirring to combine. Next introduce the eggs one by one, beating well after each inclusion. Once all four of the eggs have been added, stir in the lemon juice and salt; stir until all of the ingredients are thoroughly combined.
To a non-reactive, heavy bottom saucepan (stainless steel is terrific here) that holds at least 2 litres (2 quarts) add the raw lemon curd mixture and cook over low (or even extra low, if your stovetop/cooker gets especially warm) heat (while a gentle simmer is all right, do not let the mixture come anywhere near a bubbling boil). I personally feel that you cannot mix lemon curd too much (the last thing you want is for pieces of cooked egg to start forming!), and recommend that you stir the mixture almost constantly until it has begun to thicken (this usually takes about 9 to 12 minutes in my experience).
To gage the consistency of the lemon curd, coat the back of a mixing spoon (give it a moment to cool down) and run your finger (or the handle of another spoon) through the mixture. If in doing so you leave a clean line with distinct “sides” flanking where the line appears, your mixture has most likely reached the right consistency.
Remove the lemon curd from the heat and pour into a medium sized stainless steel, ceramic or heat-safe glass bowl. Immediately place a layer of plastic wrap (cling film) on top of the lemon curd to prevent a film (skin) from forming as it cools.
Use warm (I dare you not to savour a spoonful straight!) or put the lemon curd into the refrigerator and store (covered) for up to one week. Lemon curd also freezes very well and stored in its frozen state for up to one year.
Makes approximately 3 cups of scrumptious, buttercup yellow lemon curd.
Bon appétit!
