Issue Three

When I moved into my first apartment, I took some old kitchen utensils from my mother with me: a rusting whisk, tongs with no clip to keep them together, turkey lacers, and a wooden butcher’s mallet. She gave me the things she didn’t use or those she wanted new of her own. Several months later, winter drove in and fresh Florida crops arrived to remind me of the most important utensil I left at home–the grapefruit knife.

Not finding the exact knife I wanted at any store–either the arc wasn’t just right or the width too cumbersome, I again turned to my mother. I thought I convinced her of my vigilant effort to find a good knife; but maybe she knew my desire was more the product of nostalgia for things in her kitchen than of the need for a perfectly sectioned grapefruit. She handed it over with its graceful curve and comforting touch and I stole away to my apartment feeling slightly guilty about my acquisition that left my mother’s drawer wanting.

Unable and frankly unwilling to give it back though, the best I can do is use my grapefruit knife often and well, and I do. All winter long I eat a half with breakfast. It’s simple, quick, healthy and a great precursor to a black cup of coffee, the kind reserved for cold mornings, with iridescent specks of oil floating on top.

I turn to grapefruit for salads, snacks and desserts, too. Easy to find at three for 99 cents, there’s little I won’t try with a grapefruit. Grapefruit’s acidic notes match well with blue cheese and beets in a salad, and a half sprinkled with sugar and doused with a few tablespoons of Campari has enough kick to put you in Positano without one step out your door. Its juice adds an interesting note to homemade shortbread, and candied, is a perfect accompaniment to an afternoon demitasse.

Something I like most about grapefruit is the range of quality found in one season full of fruit, making you feel like a champion when you pick a winner. You have two basic varieties from which to choose at the store–red or white–but bring them home, open them up and your spectrum now ranges from stringy and sour to sweet and juicy, with hoards of variation in between.

I pick grapefruit regardless of color, but am sure to choose those that aren’t too waxy and are thinned-skinned but heavy for their size. I’m partial to rather mangled-looking grapefruits, with dark veins that make them look like they grew on the ground like pumpkins rather than in the sky hanging from trees. These I believe produce the most succulent and sweet sections.

  Always one for wishing others would share my passions, I created this grapefruit curd recipe for a friend who is unwavering in his distaste for the fruit. You can start with this basic recipe and leave it simple: spoon the curd over some crushed store-bought shortbread, garnish with crème fraîche or whipped cream, and sprinkle with crushed pistachios and chopped candied grapefruit peel. Or, you can fashion the same ingredients into a more fancy tart by folding the curd into some whipped cream and spreading it on the bottom of a sweet pastry crust. Decorate that, too, with pistachios and consider dipping the candied grapefruit peel into some melted chocolate to finish off the plate. Either way, prepare for a few minutes in the kitchen, from the squeezing to the straining and the whisking, grapefruit curd is an investment, but one that I hope you’ll find pays off in multitudes. After all, winter is a good time in Western New York to stand over a hot stove, dreaming about the sun-drenched fields in Florida from which your winter fruit hails.

Grapefruit Curd

1/2 cup unsalted butter
1 cup sugar
6 egg yolks
1 cup freshly squeezed, twice-strained grapefruit juice (from about 2-3 grapefruits)

Combine all ingredients over medium heat in a double boiler, whisking constantly, until mixture coats the back of a spoon, for about 10 minutes after all the butter melts. Pour curd through a fine sieve and lay waxed paper directly on the surface to prevent a skin from forming. Chill. Can be kept refrigerated for up to two weeks.

Candied Grapefruit Peel

juice of 1/2 a lemon
10 whole cloves
a few grindings fresh nutmeg
1 cup water
1 cup sugar
grapefruit peel of two grapefruits, sliced to 1/2 inch wide by about 1 to 2 inches long
1 tsp. vanilla extract

In a saucepan with a wide bottom, combine first five ingredients and bring to a boil over medium-high heat, stirring. Add grapefruit peel and continue to boil, stirring occasionally, for 10-15 minutes or until the peel absorbs almost all of the syrup. Using tongs, transfer the peel to a baking sheet lined with waxed paper to cool. Store in refrigerator wrapped in waxed paper.