How To Make Perfect Lemonade
How To Make Perfect Lemonade
How To Make Perfect Lemonade
Forget that colourless carbonated stuff real lemonade is sweet and sour and 10 times as refreshing.
But do you add salt, or cucumber, or mint? Time for some taste tests
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A glass apart Felicity's perfect lemonade. All photographs: Felicity Cloake
Bitter shandies aside, I'm not a habitual lemonade drinker it's a
thirst that seems to have quietly died away at about the age of 17, the
same time as that for orange squash and blue raspberry Panda Pops.
No wonder the distinctly more mature R Whites chap had to sneak
downstairs in the middle of the night to get his fix.
But at this time of year, when I'm toiling up a hill in the sunshine or
stuck on a stifling bus in the bad-tempered traffic, a cold glass of
lemonade often appears before me, unbidden, like a mirage of
refreshment. Not the saccharine-laden, aggressively carbonated sort,
of course: no, my daydreams tend more towards the mouth-puckering,
traditional drink the kind that suggests rolling lawns replete with
croquet hoops rather than a warm can from the ice cream van.
For reasons probably clear to anyone of a more scientific bent, the
sweet and sour flavours of real lemonade seem to hit the spot like
nothing else on a hot day. (Interestingly, however, Jane Grigson
reports in her Fruit Book that, when she was a child, it was a late-
winter drink intended to "cleanse the blood" of all that season's
stodgy food.)
The cloudy sort sold under the name of "old-fashioned" lemonade is
often just as sugary as its colourless cousin, and the fresh kind is
extortionately expensive if you actually want to quench your thirst
rather than wet your whistle, making lemonade an ideal candidate for
trying at home.
Paula Deen
One of the simplest recipes I find is from down-home southern US
celebrity chef Paula Deen. She dissolves two cups of sugar in one
cup of hot water, and then stirs in two cups of fresh lemon juice and
dilutes it with a gallon of cold water. The results are intensely sweet
and sour nice in small quantities, but not terribly thirst quenching. It
finds favour with the most sweet-toothed of my housemates, who
screws up his face at every other lemonade of the day: perhaps one
for the children.
Constance Spry
The indomitable Constance Spry, first principal of London's Cordon
Bleu cookery school and author of what the Observer Food Monthly
describes as "one of the greatest cookbooks of all time", gives
an almost equally simple recipe, which involves pouring 1.2 litres of
boiling water over three diced lemons along with 3tbsp sugar and
leaving it to soak for 1530 minutes "until strong without becoming
bitter". Slices of lemon and a sprig of mint are added for the final hour
of chilling. Despite me checking it assiduously, it's still rather bitter for
my taste after 20 minutes and the lemon doesn't seem to have
released any of its juices. Perhaps mashing the diced fruit through
the sieve might have yielded better results, but I don't dare second-
guess Constance.
Jane Grigson
Jane's Fruit Book recipe involves infusing water with the peel of three
lemons and simmering it gently "the peel gradually flavours the
water quite strongly". Once cool, I stir in the lemon juice and sugar to
taste and chill, then dilute with soda water and serve with a sprig of
mint and a slice of cucumber. Although I find a still lemonade more
refreshing, the balance of sour and bitter flavours is much better than
in the Constance Spry recipe, although perhaps a little muted for my
taste. The mint and cucumber provides a distinctive and very British
taste of summer which makes this particular lemonade stand out from
the rest.
Delia Smith
Delia's method also involves infusing hot water with the zest of three
lemons and then stirring in the juice of six fruits, along with 150g
sugar. She then leaves it overnight, which, given how rapidly
Constance Spry's lemonade turned bitter, makes me anxious, but
actually the flavour is very well balanced and my favourite of all the
recipes I test.
Gary Rhodes
Gary's recipe, in The Complete Rhodes Around Britain, is billed as
going well with griddled scones and homemade biscuits, which is
endearing it sounds just the kind of thing to set off a sunny
afternoon in a striped deckchair. The method, however, is unusual: I
chop up two lemons, pith, pips and all, and stick them in a blender
with 4tbsp caster sugar and a pint of water, whizz it all together, sieve
it and it's ready to serve over ice. I really want to like this one (so
easy!) but like the Constance Spry lemonade, the bitterness of the
peel is a little overpowering.
Mamta's Kitchen
You never appreciate a glass of chilled lemonade more than in a hot
climate, and India can't get enough of the stuff. In my experience,
lemonade on the subcontinent tends to mean a glass half-full of
freshly squeezed citrus juice (what were described as lemons always
tasted more like limes to me) served with a bottle of soda water and a
bowl of sugar to be added as desired along with a good pinch of
salt.
Blogger Mamta Gupta's simple recipe for nimbu pani involves stirring
the juice of a lemon or lime (I use lemon, for consistency rather than
for authenticity's sake) into a jug of water, then adding sugar to taste
and serving with ice and a slice of lemon. A pinch of chat masala
spice which doesn't seem quite in keeping with the drink I'm trying
to achieve or salt is an optional extra: Mamta observes that "salt
and sugar together help to replace the lost electrolytes in the intense
heat of India", and indeed this subtly flavoured drink is hands-down
the most refreshing of all the recipes I try. I quite like the salt, but that
could just be nostalgia it doesn't go down quite so well with some of
my testers, so I'm going to leave it to your discretion.
Perfect lemonade
The simplicity and speed of Gary Rhodes's method appeals to me
here lemonade is something you should be able to enjoy on the
spur of the moment rather than having to prepare it the night before
as Delia's recipe demands. I did enjoy the balance of flavours in her
lemonade though, which I put down to the ratio of one part zest to two
parts juice, as opposed to the equal amounts favoured by most of the
others. I've added slightly more juice to make it a little more thirst-
quenching, however. A pinch of salt, and a slice of cucumber and a
sprig of mint to serve, adds a final touch of summer if time permits,
soaking them while the lemonade chills, as Constance Spry suggests,
allows their flavour to infuse further. If not, dive straight in.
Makes 600ml
If you prefer a sparkling lemonade, add only 250ml cold water to the
blender and then top up the jug with cold soda water just before
serving.
2 unwaxed lemons
50g white caster sugar
570ml cold water
Pinch of salt (optional)
cucumber, sliced
Small bunch of mint
1. Cut one of the lemons into chunks and put into a food processor or
blender, along with any juices from the chopping board and the juice
of the remaining one and a half lemons, the sugar, the salt if using
and a little of the water. Whizz to a puree, then add the rest of the
water. Taste and add a little more sugar if necessary.
2. Pour into a jug add the slices of cucumber and a couple of sprigs
of mint, then chill until ready to serve.
3. Serve over ice with a fresh slice of cucumber and a fresh sprig of
mint for each glass.
Is lemonade the most refreshing drink on earth and if not, what do
you use to quench your thirst when the temperature soars? And has
anyone any good suggestions for lemonade cocktails a gin fizz,
perhaps?