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Candied Citrus — The Sweet That Adorned Every Henderson Christmas Table

Christmas. December 2024. And the house is full the way a house should be full at Christmas — overfull, bursting, chairs borrowed from the church and card tables set up in the hallway and children running in patterns that make no geographical sense but perfect emotional sense because Christmas is not about efficiency, it is about chaos, and the chaos is the love.

Twenty-six people. Earl Jr. and Carolyn drove from Atlanta with Marcus, Tasha (eight months pregnant, enormous, beautiful, eating everything in sight), Amara (six, asking questions about Santa that are getting dangerously close to the truth), and Elijah (three, eating things off the floor that are not food). Patricia and Wayne from Jacksonville with Darnell, Keisha, baby Wayne Jr. (six months, chubby, smiling at everyone, a natural politician). Denise, Robert, Monique, James, Andre. Kayla and Devon. And me, standing at the center of it all like the eye of a hurricane, which is the calmest part of the storm and also the part that holds everything together.

I cooked for three days. The Christmas spread: ham (honey-glazed, studded with cloves, the way Hattie Pearl taught me), turkey (twenty pounds, a repeat of the Thanksgiving success), dressing, greens, mac and cheese, candied yams, rice, gravy, rolls, cornbread, sweet potato pie, pecan pie, coconut cake (Earl's favorite — I make it every Christmas because the empty chair deserves to have its favorite cake on the table). Three days of cooking. Forty-seven years of Christmas dinners. Same kitchen. Same skillet. Same woman, older, wider, with one titanium knee and a heart that expands every December to accommodate however many people show up.

Earl Jr. said grace again. He's taken the role permanently now — the Henderson grace-sayer, the voice that bridges the silence between the cooking and the eating. He said, "For the hands that prepared this food, and for the empty chairs that we remember..." His voice broke. Carolyn put her hand on his arm. Twenty-six people bowed their heads. The empty chair was present. Earl was present. Michael was present. The dead are always present at a Henderson Christmas. We set their places. We make their cakes. We say their names in the grace. And then we eat, because the eating is the remembering, and the remembering is the love.

Now go on and feed somebody.

Every year I make the coconut cake for Earl’s chair, and every year I make the candied citrus for the ham platter — laid out in a ring around that honey glaze like a crown, the way Hattie Pearl used to do it. It’s the kind of thing nobody asks about but everybody notices, and when Tasha reached over and ate one right off the platter before the blessing, I knew that baby she’s carrying is going to fit right in with this family. If you’re building a Christmas spread that asks something of you, let this be the small beautiful thing that asks the least — just time, sugar, and a little patience, which is really all love ever asks anyway.

Candied Citrus

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 50 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 5 minutes | Servings: 12

Ingredients

  • 2 large navel oranges, sliced 1/4 inch thick
  • 2 lemons, sliced 1/4 inch thick
  • 1 ruby red grapefruit, sliced 1/4 inch thick
  • 2 cups granulated sugar, plus 1/2 cup for finishing
  • 2 cups water
  • 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
  • 3 whole cloves (optional, for a holiday ham platter)

Instructions

  1. Blanch the citrus. Bring a wide pot of water to a full boil. Add the citrus slices in a single layer (work in batches if needed) and blanch for 1 minute to remove bitterness. Drain and set aside.
  2. Make the simple syrup. In the same wide pot or a large skillet, combine 2 cups sugar, 2 cups water, salt, and cloves if using. Stir over medium heat until the sugar dissolves completely, 3—4 minutes.
  3. Simmer the slices. Add the blanched citrus to the syrup in a single layer. Reduce heat to low and simmer gently, turning the slices occasionally, for 45—50 minutes, until the rinds are translucent and the pith has softened. The syrup will thicken slightly.
  4. Cool on a rack. Using tongs, transfer the slices to a wire rack set over a baking sheet. Let them cool and dry for at least 1 hour; they will be tacky but not wet.
  5. Sugar-coat. Spread the remaining 1/2 cup granulated sugar in a shallow dish. Press each cooled slice into the sugar on both sides, coating lightly. Return to the rack.
  6. Store or serve. Arrange around a glazed ham, layer between parchment in a tin for gifting, or set out on a holiday dessert platter. Store in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 2 weeks, or refrigerate for up to 1 month.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 138 | Protein: 0g | Fat: 0g | Carbs: 36g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 24mg

Dorothy Henderson
About the cook who shared this
Dorothy Henderson
Week 401 of Dorothy’s 30-year story · Savannah, Georgia
Dot Henderson is a seventy-one-year-old grandmother, a retired school lunch lady, and the undisputed queen of Lowcountry cooking in her corner of Savannah, Georgia. She spent thirty-five years feeding schoolchildren — sneaking extra portions to the ones who looked hungry — and now she feeds her seven grandchildren every Sunday without exception. She cooks with lard, seasons by feel, and ends every recipe the same way her mama did: "Now go on and feed somebody."

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