The Sweetness of Lemon
written by: Clare Manicom
Gran’s garden had a potting shed,
a formal rose garden and fruit trees.
As new arrivals to this temporary home,
my sister and I explored the space, climbed trees
sampled youngberries, apricots and lemons.
We carried little from England
to this new land of sunshine and uncertainty,
included in our baggage was a simple cookbook.
Prompted by an instruction in the book,
we discovered the joy of
freshly squeezed lemon juice blended with icing sugar.
Glace icing or lemon drizzle, it would now be called.
A few moments in the roomy kitchen when Mum wasn’t around
left a tangy sweet white paste we’d wipe off a saucer with licked fingers.
Sharp lemon scent from fruits pulled off
the lower branches of leafy trees.
We soon learned from that same book how to make
peppermint patties, coconut ice and Rice Krispie Squares.
Now I survey my pile of recipe books from four generations,
dating from early to the late 1900s.
My Gran’s and my Mum’s basic cooking instruction books,
my own favourites that have survived house moves and scaling down,
and my son’s little cardboard book with cookie dough recipes.
Mum is ageing, is less adventurous in the kitchen,
provides meals for herself only which is both lonely and boring.
I love to have people share food I have prepared,
but mostly it’s simple meals for two,
with little need for a recipe or reference book.
Our son is confident in the kitchen,
puts together a well-seasoned meal, using good quality ingredients
including zesty lemons in his Greek dishes.
He lives alone and has no children.
I have no right to expect him to produce any.
Who will be the next generation to learn new kitchen skills,
experiment and develop a love of cooking?
My gaze blurs.
NOTE:
Based on the Prompt – The Taste of Memory
- The Sweetness of Lemon - September 11, 2025
