The Lemon Ruins: Lemon Curd

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4/16/1697

Somewhere in the tropical Pacific

[Transcribed from the Travel Journals of Vic]

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I’m here quite by accident. I had every intention of going to Easer Island sometime between 400 and 1500 AD to see what, if anything, the Stone Giants made for dinner, but I think it’s fair to say I missed. I landed in the middle of the ocean, and by sheer luck washed up on a very small island home to some of the oddest lemons I have ever seen. They look as if they are several lemons all grown together, with twisting tendrils of tough yellow peel wrapping around the entire fruit. It’s safe to say they are at least as large as my head.

Even stranger are the markings on the trunks of the trees. Small divots, carved at even intervals, no more than two inches wide, run up every tree from the base to the first branch. As I followed the marked trees deeper into the jungle, I noticed small, overgrown footpaths weaving though the undergrowth.

Running into sentient life out here was almost too good to be true, but I still couldn’t let them see me. I tried in vain to activated my cloaking wristband but it had been totally ruined by my dip in the ocean, just like my spacetime travel band. I knew I’d need to be much more careful without it, but I wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip though my fingers. With nothing else to do, I started to walk slowly and quietly along the largest path.

The walk from the beach to the first signs of civilization only took about fifteen minutes. The first thing I found was a small farmhouse with a thatched roof. And when I say small, I mean small. The building was barely taller than I was, and the door only came up to my mid-chest. There was a wooden coop of some kind behind the house, and a fenced off field with nothing in it. In fact, the entire homestead looked abandoned. The grasses were totally overgrown, part of the roof was damaged, and an eerie silence filled there air. It was at the farm I first noticed the quiet. The entire time I’d been on this island, the only sound around was the lull of the waves. No birds, no bugs, no rustling of the leaves. I had a hunch I wasn’t going to have any issues with stealth on this mission.

I was right. Further along the walking path there sat a small village. Most of the buildings had wooden walls and thatched roofs, and most of those roofs were partially caved in. the silence was deafening now. With no one in sight, I started checking the houses one by one. Each was unique on the interior, with homemade furniture and rugs collecting dust on the floor, and trinkets made from leaves and shells and dried flowers on some of the surfaces. Each one of these homes had been built with a loving hand, and they were all abandoned in the same way. It was as if everyone had just stood up and walked away, never to return.

The only constant in each house was the lemons. Every single one had three or more of the warped citrus somewhere. Some in hanging fruit baskets, some in bowls, some just out on the table. Everywhere I looked I found lemons. Some of the homes had their own coops out back, but they were all smaller than the one on the farm on the edge of town. On the other side of the small village there were a couple more farms, each with empty pastures surrounded by decaying wooden fences and filled with waist-deep, impossibly green grass.

It was a lovely scene. I headed back to the village and entered the most intact looking home. This was the only home with glass cabinets, all the other had either wooden cabinets or open-air shelving, and all their books had disintegrated long ago. These glass cabinets protected several books, but only one was a cookbook. Most of the recipes were untranslatable, requiring ingredients and methods we could never hope to replicate, save one. A simple lemon curd, that seemed to be the basis for many of the more complex meals.

I’ve written it out below, as always, and have of course included my handwritten notes from the day I found the book. I returned the book to its resting place and headed back to the beach where I told the rescue team I’d be. Kuddos to Davy and the team for tracking me down in less to two hours.

-Vic

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Lemon Curd of the Lemon Ruins

Ingredients

• 3 whole eggs
• 4 egg yolks
• 1 cup sugar
• 3/4 cup lemon juice
• 2 TBS corn starch
• 1 tsp vanilla
• 1/2 cup cold butter

Procedure

1. In a double boiler, combine the whole eggs and the egg yolks, whisking until just combined. Don’t turn the double boiler on just yet.
2. Add sugar through vanilla. Whisk till well combined.
3. Turn on the double boiler. Cook until the mixture coats the back of a spoon, stirring frequently.
4. While watching the curd, cut the butter into small cubes.
5. Once the curd coats the spoon, add the butter.
6. Stir till butter is completely melted and combined. Remove from heat

This curd will keep several weeks in the fridge. Serve it on toast or just eat it warm with a spoon as a dessert.

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