It wasn’t that long ago that I learned that citrus fruits peak in winter — it seems bizarre, doesn’t it? Not just because we’re used to drinking orange juice whenever we please, thankyouverymuch, but citrus just conveys an image of warmer, sunnier climes. Well, believe it, we’re right at the tail end of prime citrus season. Which means now’s a great time to stock up on fresh Meyer lemons, blood oranges, red grapefruits, etc. — you’ll probably even find good deals on organic varieties from places other than Central and South America.

As luck would have it, I was visiting my family a few weeks ago, when a dear friend, Dr. Jim Price, reminded me of one of the simple pleasures of citrus — preserving them in salt. Preserved lemons are usually associated with Mediterranean cooking, with tagines and lambs and Moroccan spices, but they’re fairly versatile. Anything that you might add a normal lemon to, from roasted chicken to poached fish, is suitable for preserved lemons, with a distinctive flavor. Hank, over at Hunter/Angler/Gardener/Cook (a wonderful food blog if you haven’t yet discovered it) has an interesting perspective on the history and uses of preserved lemon.

So, what are we talking about here? Why even bother preserving lemons, aren’t they a buck a pop in the grocery store year round? True enough but the preservation — really, a kind of pickling (continuing our theme from Neven’s eggs) — adds a different kind of flavor. It’s a great way to take advantage of citrus fruits when they’re at their peak. Also, you need to understand that the thing you’re preserving here is the peel of the fruit, not the pulp, which will be too salty to eat by the time you’re done. This is a great opportunity to seek out, say, organic Meyer lemons, which should be readily available and fairly reasonable this time of year.

Your ingredients are:

• Meyer lemons (8 or 10 should fill a quart jar nicely), washed well. It makes sense to go organic here since the peel is the end product.
• A quarter cup or so of kosher salt
• Optional spices as you see fit (peppercorns, bay leaves, ginger, cinnamon, and/or coriander)
• Mason jar(s)

The technique is really pretty simple. First, sterilize your jars by running them through the dishwasher or boiling them for 10 minutes or so. Fill the bottom of each jar with about 1-2 tablespsoons of kosher salt - enough to obscure the bottom of the jar. Mostly quarter each lemon by slicing it enough to open it up without slicing all the way through the base — each lemon should be loosely held together at the bottom. Next, liberally sprinkle each exposed side of the lemon with salt then stuff it into the jar. You want to try to extract as much of the acidic lemon juice as possible to help create the brine for pickling the lemons. Fill the jar and make sure there’s enough lemon juice to cover the lemons, you may need to add a little extra from leftover lemons. Optionally, add any spices you’d like to test out — I made one batch plain, one with peppercorns and a few bay leaves. On a whim, I also made a batch using clementine mandarine oranges, those turned out pretty good, too.

Seal and let sit at room temperature for a few days, flipping the jar every other day to evenly distribute the brine. Refrigerate for at least 3 weeks before they’re ready to be used.

When it comes time, fish out a lemon from the jar, rinse the salt and throw out the pulp, which will be too salty to eat anyway. Slice the peels as thick you please, add to a salad, grate over a roasted chicken, use to flavor a baked fish or even add a distinctive twist to a favorite cocktail. These should last a few months in the fridge no problem.

If there’s a food you don’t like, try eating it pickled. - Neven Mrgan

True as this adage is, I confess it may not apply to pickled eggs so much, as most people like eggs. But this will get us started on pickling in general, which we hope to revisit soon.

A few weeks ago, some chicken-owning friends offered us three dozen eggs. Not one to say no to local eggs - one of those ingredients where the small-batch stuff is really noticeably better than the store kind - I then had to decide what to do with thirty-six eggs. Enter pickling, one of the best ways to preserve food.

We’ll need perfectly hardboiled eggs, so let’s start with well washed and cleaned eggs - I put 24 of them in a large pot. Cover the eggs by 1 inch of water; bring to a boil on high, then immediately remove from heat, cover, and let gently cook for 17 minutes.

While you wait, fill a large bowl with ice. After the 17 minutes are up, carefully transfer the eggs (using a slotted spoon) to the ice bath and let them chill for 2 minutes. The egg will shrink and let go of the shell. By the way, don’t really want to hardboil freshly laid eggs. Slightly older ones (a few weeks or so) will part with the shell more smoothly; the flavor shouldn’t be much different.

This next step is usually skipped when hardboiling, unfortunately: bring the water in the pot to a boil again, and move eggs to it in batches. Boil them for 10 seconds - this will expand the shell even further. In the ice bath they go again after this second boil. This heat-cool-heat-cool cycle will make things easier when you get to the longest part of this process: peeling the eggs. It’s a good idea also to let the eggs cool down in the final ice bath for 15 minutes or so. You’ll be making the pickling brine during this time.

You can do endless variations on brine; the basic idea is: 50% water, 50% acid, plus spices. In my case, I mixed 10 oz balsamic vinegar, 10 oz apple cider vinegar, and 20 oz water. For spices and seasonings, I threw in a few cloves of garlic, black peppercorns, half a tablespoon of salt, and 4 tablespoons of brown sugar. Brought to a near-boil over medium-high heat, this wicked brew filled the kitchen with the smell of winter appetizers. While the brine cools down (it should not steam at all), peel the eggs. It helps if you can get help from friends, loved ones, neighborhood children, retired businessmen, elderly novelists, etc. etc.

What sort of container should you use? Anything with a tight seal and a wide mouth will work. I picked up a wide, half-gallon glass jar with a screw-on lid. Glass will let you see the beautiful color and texture of white orbs floating in liquid midnight, and it’s also less likely to stain and absorb the smell of vinegar. Whatever container you go with, wash it with lots of soap and hot water.

When everything’s cool and clean, spoon the eggs into the jar, pour the brine over them - making sure it covers them all - and store your proud batch of pickled eggs in the fridge. Now, some folks will tell you pickled eggs will keep just fine even if not refrigerated; I say, why risk it. Whether they’re cooked and pickled or not, I wouldn’t leave eggs at room temperature longer than a few days.

Stored in the fridge, these will keep up to 18 months (as if you won’t eat them sooner than that.) How soon is too soon, though? I tasted this batch at one day, three days, one week, two weeks, and four weeks. After one day, all I got was very forward vinegar on the outside, and little complexity on the inside. Waiting a week allowed the acid to find its way to the yolk; it was a quite different dish. After four weeks, the flavors deepened and the eggs toughened a bit (which isn’t necessarily bad, though they may get rubbery after several months.) My recommendation is to wait at least one week before serving.

And how do you serve these beautiful black marbles, exactly? Rinsed and dried and bare isn’t too bad! There’s plenty of flavor here. The typical way of fancying them up is to devil the yolks. May I suggest mixing them with a basil-and-chili aioli? Or perhaps horseradish and beet? Top a leafy-green salad with them? As with the brine itself, do what feels right, do it often, and don’t be afraid to experiment.