Columbus Day weekend brought Patricia's household into sharper focus for the neighborhood. Her husband David and their two boys — eight and eleven — had been getting settled and this was the first weekend they were truly unpacked and at home enough to be outdoors. I met them properly on Saturday when I brought over a jar of the tomato sauce and a loaf of the sourdough I had baked Friday. The boys were polite in that careful way children are when they have been recently coached on manners, which I appreciated. David is quiet and seems competent; he works in forestry management for the state, which means he understands land in a way that Ted and I will be able to talk to him about.
Ted looked at me over the boys' heads with an expression I can only describe as grateful relief. He has been a good neighbor to me for thirty years and I have watched him be a good father to Patricia, but there is something in him that had gone quiet after his wife passed a few years back and after Patricia moved west, and this weekend I could see that quiet lifting. He stood in the yard with his grandson leaning against his leg and talked about the tree line and where the deer trails run, and I thought: this is what a man needs. Not much else, really.
The last of the green tomatoes on the windowsill have been turning steadily. I have been making do with them as they ripen — a few in a shakshuka, a few sliced with late-season mozzarella from the farmstand, most of them going into a batch of tomato jam I make every October from the windowsill ripened fruit. Windowsill-ripened tomatoes lack the sugar of vine-ripened ones but they have an acidic brightness that is actually ideal for jam. I cook them down with a little lemon and ginger and the result is something between a condiment and a preserve that goes well with cheese plates through the winter.
Teddy and I had a longer call this week about the stocks curriculum. He wants to do fish stock next and I told him we should talk through it before he tries it because fish stock is the most punishing of the stocks — overcooked by as little as fifteen minutes and it turns bitter and metallic in a way you cannot fix. The window is narrow. He has the technical foundation now from the chicken and veal sessions and I think he is ready, but I want him to understand the why before he starts the how. We scheduled the call for Sunday evening.
The tomato jam will carry us through winter on cheese plates and crackers, but there is something about October’s particular sweet-tart brightness — that quality the windowsill fruit has, acidic and forward — that I wanted to honor in a simpler, more immediate way while the jam sets in its jars. This Sweet & Tart Lemon Jell-O has that same quality: it is not subtle, it is not complicated, and it is exactly the kind of thing you can put together while you are doing three other things, which is the only kind of recipe October really allows. I brought a dish of it over to Patricia’s that same weekend, and the boys ate it standing at the counter before anyone could say otherwise.
Sweet & Tart Lemon Jell-O
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 5 minutes | Total Time: 4 hours 15 minutes (includes chilling) | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 2 packets (3 oz each) lemon-flavored gelatin (such as Jell-O)
- 2 cups boiling water
- 1 cup cold water
- 1/2 cup fresh lemon juice (from about 3 large lemons)
- 1 tablespoon lemon zest
- 2 tablespoons granulated sugar (adjust to taste)
- 1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
- Whipped cream or sour cream, for serving (optional)
Instructions
- Dissolve the gelatin. Pour the boiling water into a large heatproof bowl. Add both packets of lemon gelatin and stir continuously for 2 minutes until fully dissolved with no visible granules.
- Add the tart elements. Stir in the sugar and sea salt until dissolved. Add the cold water, fresh lemon juice, and lemon zest. Taste — the mixture should be noticeably tart with a clean, bright finish. Adjust with a touch more sugar if needed, but resist the urge to oversweeten.
- Pour and chill. Pour the mixture into a lightly greased 8x8-inch glass dish or individual serving cups. Allow to cool at room temperature for 15 minutes, then refrigerate uncovered for at least 4 hours, or until fully set and firm to the touch.
- Serve. Cut into squares or unmold from cups. Serve cold, plain or with a small spoonful of whipped cream or sour cream to balance the tartness. Keeps refrigerated, covered, for up to 4 days.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 95 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 0g | Carbs: 22g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 115mg