So I must follow up on this stolen lemons business that I mentioned earlier. This little journey takes place on the final day of my trip to LA. Here is the background:
After several days in Southern California, I had worked my way into a very sick and slightly pessimistic mood. My voice was gone, I was feverish, and I was done with Southern California as a whole. After all, there is only so much one can take of this:
Did you know that every palm tree in LA was planted in some way? I mean, this place was molded out of clay.
So here I am, sick and ready to go home, and I am staying with my very dear friend in South Pasadena by this point. Not only has she not seen me at all over the course of this visit, but she has also driven me around and folded the bed down for me every night so that I can drop into it with my clothes on. Luckily I could muster the energy to take off my red LA heels. Ouch. So here we are, my cell phone keeps ringing but I say to her, “Let’s walk- I want to see your little town and feel like I’ve been somewhere on this trip!” And she looks at me dubiously, doubting that I’m up for it. But me fever is low enough to just give me a healthy flush, and I say, “We are taking a walk, and I am seeing South Pasadena.” (South Pasadena fact: did you know that this is the town that the RNC used to show Main Street, USA?)
So we’re walking, and I’m sweating, and my cell phone keeps ringing, and I answer it and think about what a good friend that I have that won’t just leave me on the street because I’m talking on my phone while talking a walk that I made her take with me. But then, two really great things happen. The first is that she takes me to her favorite gourmet food store. This is not just any gourmet food store. There is a culinary school in South Pasadena, and this is it’s supply store. I am now not only sweating, but also drooling. And I am so happy. Look at their spices.
I find lime oil, and gavottes, and chestnut puree, which I have been looking for so that I can make this. I am so happy. And I buy my excellent friend some pastry cups because she says she finds them intimidating, and sometimes I can be a bit mean about pushing my friends toward their fears.
And as we make our way back to her house, I confess that the only reason I would ever want to live in Southern California is for the lemon trees. And my desire for fresh wonderful lemons is so unreasonably strong, that sometimes I do think about moving to Southern California for only this reason. And my friend, my wonderful friend, you know what she does? She hops up on someone’s funny little yard, and she steals four lemons for me. Can you believe her? I hope that you all have a friend this good.
So that’s the end of my LA adventures. Snow and Ice and all, I like it more here. Does anyone know how to grow lemons in New England?
Occasionally I teach workshops, and I have one coming up this fall. Join me and stellar novelist 
Aviva would be thrilled to report that she saw LEMONS growing on a TREE at the Smith College conservatory last week. I thought she was going to pee herself.
Not the same thing, of course…
I totally understand. I might pee myself as well if I saw lemons growing in New England. Now if you have an impulse to steal a few….
I only wish I had stolen you more! I decided to forego theft, and buy some Meyer lemons at the Farmer’s market to fill the innards of the pastry cups (which are STILL edible!) and still scary. because as soon as i got the lemons, i found vanila beans. oh, what’s a girl to do?
~ dono