The early morning walk up the canyon is done slowly.
The path looks deceptively gentle, but as we climb, knees bent, hands free and backs laden with rucksacks, the ground before us rises steeply….
This is Utah. The hills of Utah. I’m out seeing Geology but taking in scents. Scents of the valleys, scents of the hills.
My nose is assailed with the scent of wild rosemary, growing in thick, midget bushes which flank both sides of the path.
I stretch out my right hand to pluck at some leaves which I crush with my fingers. I let the bruised needles fall to the ground and bring my fingers up to my nose.
I inhale the fresh herbaceousness and I know what’s missing – garlic, lamb chops and potatoes. If only could have a full roast dinner, perched on the mountain top.
Tuck in, tuck out. Pack up the remains in a brown paper bag and walk easily down a mountain.
Funny enough, I’ve always been mixed about my love or not for Rosemary.
This recipe came to my fore on a night when I had bread dough in my fridge and Meyers on hand.
Breakfast the next morning was easy.
Wet dough spread out with floured fingers on parchment paper. Thinly sliced Meyer lemon, carefully spaced. Dried Rosemary pines carelessly strewn.
Oven baked till bread base turns golden. Then fired under the grill/broiler, about 6 inches down for a few minutes on medium till bronzed on top too.
Sweet with some slight pucker.
Bitter, sweet, savoury, floral, chewy and fragrant with the piney herbaceouness of Rosemary. No fresh Rosemary on hand – dry worked beautifully with no ill effects. I believe. I loved the way the slices of lemons remain juicy, bitter, sweet and a tad salty.
My children hankered for more.
Twice it has been made and twice have we proclaimed sounds of greatness and love.
If you get a chance, and you love lemons, give it a go: Meyer Lemon Focaccia.
Have a restful weekend.