I find it a cheerful coincidence that as our bodies begin to demand reprieve from the overindulgences of the holiday season, the cleansing, refreshing, heaven-sent antidote that is citrus is just reaching its peak of abundance and quality. Though I deeply appreciate all varieties of citrus, I reserve a special place in my heart and belly for the grapefruit.
Growing up, every Christmas would bring a banana box full of the heavy yellow orbs, plucked from the tree in my Floridian aunt's backyard. My father and I took a special delight in slurping them down at breakfast, in juicy chunks, scooped straight out of the lightly sugared and halved fruit. The last few spoonfuls of juice that we'd wring out of the hollowed rind and membranes were particularly prized. Along those lines, Dad and I are also firm believers that there is nothing better than cold grapefruit juice to quench an aching thirst.
Tart, but more approachably so in its natural state than, say, a lemon or lime. and sweet, but less overtly so than an orange or tangerine, the grapefruit is rendered all the more complex and provocative by its slightly bitter, astringent and floral qualities. As such, it is, on its own, or perhaps adorned with a sprinkling of sugar or a lashing of honey, a perfectly satisfying way to begin a day or end a meal. Incorporated into more involved preparations, it marries well with other flavors—other varieties of citrus, spices, fresh herbs, dairy, and chocolate among them—while imparting its own special bass-line of intrigue.
Here I have provided recipes for two of my most recent grapefruit dalliances, but I encourage you to play with this special fruit on your own. Add a little zest to your favorite butter cookie recipe, substitute grapefruit juice for some or all of the lemon or lime juice in a curd. Have fun and enjoy!
Note: I especially like this cake served with fresh grapefruit or mixed citrus segments, perhaps augmented with a grating of fresh ginger or a tousle of mint, basil or tarragon, and maybe a scoop of a complimentary sorbet or ice cream. The last bite or two of cake makes the perfect mop for any melty, juicy loveliness that might otherwise be left behind.
About the author: Amanda Clarke is pastry chef at No.7 in Ft. Greene, Brooklyn. During her time away from the restaurant, she writes, tests, and develops recipes between walkings and feedings of her two dogs and husband.
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