Four months into my stay at home life and I’m finding that one of my greatest comforts is time set aside each week for a little kitchen witchery. There’s something about creating a lovely meal or tinkering with my herbal apothecary that keeps me grounded and nourished. It reminds me that while there is much I can’t control right now, I do have tremendous power in the energy I put into the world, the loving communities I protect and nourish, and the kind of magic I can whip up within the safety of my sanctuary.

Lately, I’ve been drawn to working with the kind of things we think of as kitchen discards: coffee grinds, carrot tops, and lemon rinds. My younger sister, an artist in Italy who specializes in making wonderful creations from life’s discards, first taught me the beauty of the used up citrus peel. There is magic in taking something that seemingly has no value and making it useful once more.

Of course, I’m no stranger to the similar magic of taking a bitter pill and turning it into sweet medicine, like the year I learned how to make limoncello, the Italian liquor made from lemon peels. I had been going through a difficult time—detoxing from graduate school, moving home, and trying to find full-time work. And, you know, all-around trying to figure myself out. This limoncello was my potion, my spell for turning even the bitterest of fruits into something sweet. I’d first tasted it when I visited my sister in Italy for the first time. It was midnight in Florence on the Palazzo Vecchio. I sipped a cold glass of sunshine and, for the first time, felt my heart begin to mend. Years later, I look back on that time—first drinking, then learning how to make limoncello—and marvel at the profound conjuring and belief it took to remake some of my most heartbreaking experiences and use them for the foundation of a more magical life. That’s the power of limoncello.

Now, I return to the wisdom of the lemon, and the wisdom of Italian living, with this preserved lemons recipe. This is something common along the coast, in towns like Capri where lemons plentiful. They are the perfect way to make the bright taste of summer linger all through winter and make a great addition to any meal, sauce, or cheese platter. Their salty, tart flavor adds unexpected depth to dishes and puts those often-discarded lemon rinds to good use. It’s also the perfect kind of quarantine cooking…you slice and dice a few things, then you let it sit, just like my easy marinated olives.

Not going to lie—when I get tired of the world and the voices who refuse to believe the two pandemics (COVID-19 and racism) we’re living through are real, I retreat into my kitchen to bottle sunshine. This is not in an effort to forget about what’s going on outside my door, but to get grounded and nourish myself so that I am a force for good in the world. We’ve been given plenty of lemons this year. Doesn’t mean we can’t turn them into something beautiful.

I also love the idea of taking something like a whole lemon—peel, pith, and all—and turning it into something delicious and edible. Although not traditional, I’ve taken to throwing in sliced lemon rinds from juiced lemons into this recipe so that nothing gets wasted. I only use organic ingredients, as usual, but this is especially important for this type of recipe which uses the whole lemon, including the outer rind where pesticides and other gross chemicals can hide if you’re using conventional lemons. Even if you don’t usually use organic produce, definitely use organic for this recipe otherwise you’ll end up with pesticide-flavored marinade, yuck!

This is one of those versatile recipes where you use what you have and make as much as you want, so you’ll notice I don’t give specific measurements. The quantity of each ingredient depends on how much you want to make. For a small jar, like the one pictured, I used one lemon, one rind of another used lemon, the juice of about two lemons, and a few tablespoons of salt.

This is the perfect recipe for when you’re feeling a little salty, a little sunny, and want to conjure joy from the bitterest fruits.

Ingredients:

Lemons

Sea salt

Lemon juice

Lemon rinds (optional)

Instructions:

1. Wash lemons thoroughly and slice into spears or smaller wedges, whichever you prefer. Slice lemons rinds the same way if you are using them.

2. Sprinkle sea salt in the bottom of your chosen jar until it is covered. Add one layer of lemons and rub them with salt. Mash with spoon, then add another layer. Repeat until all your lemons are in your jar. Top with more salt and mash once more.

3. Pour fresh lemon juice over salted lemons until contents of jar are fully covered with juice.

4. Close jar and label it with the date. Store in fridge for 3-5 weeks, shaking once in a while.

5. After 3-5 weeks, your lemons are ready! Use the sparingly as a little goes a long way. Lasts indefinitely.

Serving suggestions: Top thin slices on kale pizza, mince to put until salad dressings, pair with aged gouda, or include in meat marinades. Enjoy!

Enchantment Learning & Living is an inspirational blog celebrating life’s simple pleasures, everyday mysticism, and delectable recipes that are guaranteed to stir the kitchen witch in you. If you enjoyed what you just read and believe that true magic is in the everyday, subscribe to my newsletter below for regular doses of enchantment. Want even more inspiration? Follow me on Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. Here’s to a magical life!