At first I was skeptical. Wouldn’t fermented lemons taste weird? Plus, I’m not a huge fan of honey. (Please ignore that fact that I buy honey by the gallon to make vats of mead.) However! I do love my ginger lemon tea and the fermented lemon method sounded simple enough — stuff lemon slices into a jar, top with honey, and let sit on the counter for two weeks — that I figured it wouldn’t hurt to at least try it.
At first I used the lemon honey to sweeten tea, but then I started skipping the tea bag all together — just hot water with a lemon slice and a couple spoonfuls of honey — and liked it even more. The clincher: my husband, a non-tea-drinking man actually requests it.
I got the recipe from Kate over at Venison for Dinner. According to her, the honey is supposed to actively bubble while it’s fermenting. Mine doesn’t, and I’m not sure why. The first time I used local honey from friends of ours, and the second time I used half local honey and half Costco honey, and it acted the same. I decided I don’t care, though. Bubbles or no, it’s still good.
I added a pile of fresh ginger the second time around
A few observations:
The lemon flavor is mild, as is the ginger; honey is the predominant flavor.
There’s no fermentation funk. Instead, the flavor is simply fuller. More robust. Umami-ish?
Once lemons are added, the honey becomes quite runny.
This tea is both warming and nourishing, like a food.
Boiling water kills the good stuff in the honey, so if that matters to you, just use warm water.
Curiosity #1: When mixing the honey and warm water, there’s a cap of froth — from the fermented honey?
Curiosity #2: Lemon slices in the tea sink to the bottom instead of floating.
Come summertime, I bet this would be good mixed with seltzer water and ice.
Kate adds hot chilis to some of her jars; I think fresh thyme would be nice.
P.S. People, THIS MUG. A family friend (and distant relative by marriage) learned that I’ve been hankering after an oversized ceramic mug and gifted me this glorious beast that she made with her own two hands. I drink out of it almost daily (fermented lemon tea, naturally).
3 lemons, washed well and thinly sliced, pithy ends removed 3-4 cups honey
Pack the lemons into a quart jar. Top with honey. Ferment the lemons on the counter at room temperature for 2-4 weeks, flipping the jar every day or so to keep the contents mixed. Loosen the lid once a day to “burp” the jar (for those of you who actually get some lively fermentation action). To serve, fork a couple lemon slices into a mug. Add 1-2 tablespoons of honey. Top off the mug with warm-hot water.
Variations Ginger Lemon Honey: add about a half cup of fresh ginger slices along with the lemons. Hot Lemon Honey: add a red chili, or some dried chili flakes.
For a long time now I’ve been needing a desk upgrade: a monitor or two for video editing, a place for my laptop, a keyboard and mouse, etc. My little kitchen nook, while perfect for housing my laptop during the day for quick researching and emailing, isn’t exactly great for video editing and graphic design.
But where to have an office? All the logical spaces were either upstairs or in the downstairs bedroom, far removed from the hub, the heat source, the couches and all my other work projects. But I didn’t want visible screens in our main living space, either. I don’t like how screens pull focus. How cold and ugly they look. How antithetical they are to cozy vibes. (Thus the reason we’re laptoppers: we close them and they disappear.)
And then I hatched an idea: a floating desk with doors that closed! So for my birthday, my husband promised to make me a desk. (My birthday was in September; the desk manifested over our Covid/Christmas break; I am not fussing.) After weeks of conversation, research, and a few sketch-ups, my husband started building.
while racked with Covid
But because I’d never seen a floating desk, let alone used one, I had no idea whether or not we were on the right track. Would it look stupid? Would it actually work? Would I like it?
That we also had to make cluster decisions for monitors, number of screens, desk chair, lighting — and thenI smashed my laptop and we had to buy a new one — only added to the cloud of bewilderment. . . and the panic that comes from a hemorrhaging bank account.
smashed laptop, monitor #1 that we later returned, a too-high shelf, a temporary lamp
Over the last few weeks, we figured out the size of the box and where to hang it on the wall (and then we knocked it down a few inches). The sliding drawer and the height of the interior shelf. The doors. The hardware. My aunt had given us one of her chairs which I was going to put up in the library, but then I realized it was the perfect height (with a pillow) for my desk, and it was comfortable and pretty, so I adopted it for my desk chair.
light installation, new monitor, lowered shelf, new computer
The desk still isn’t totally done. The interior lighting feels harsh so I’d like to install a lamp somehow. The cord situation needs to be streamlined. My husband’s gonna build a little shelf to raise up the laptop and to hide techy randoms. I like a couple slim shelves hooked under the main shelf to hold scrap paper and a notebook. We might hang a little holder or two on the interior wall (though nothing heavy — don’t want to risk another smashed computer screen!). I need bluetooth earbuds. I day dream about a creamy-white sheepskin throw rug to define the space and keep my feet cozy (but then it’d be tricky to scootch the chair, so many not).
So how do I like it, you ask? WELL. Let me tell you! When it’s time to get to work, I open the desk doors and pull up my chair and — BOOM — I’m in my office. When it’s time to unplug, I turn off the screens and lights, shut the doors, and the office disappears. The separation is magical. The desk is simple enough that it feels accessible, yet complicated enough that it prevents me from getting sucked in willynilly. It’s exactly what I wanted.
Now my husband’s desk is directly behind mine, on the other side of the room, with the wood stove between us. Neither office nook stands out. In fact, when I told a friend who has been to our house many times about our office arrangement, she was like, Wait, where’s your husband’s office?
This photo’s for you, Alyson!
I love that both spaces are tucked into the center of everything and yet feel kinda hidden in plain sight.
P.S. My new tech — this computer (but 12 core CPU, 18GB core memory, and 2T), this monitor, this keyboard — is finally up and running and it’s such a wild improvement that I don’t really know what to do with myself. (Actually, not true. I know exactly what to do: double the amount we save each month for tech because $$$.)
