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Wit and Wisdomby Beth BroderickThey are everywhere. Lemons, oranges, and grapefruits are the most obvious, but tucked into corners or looming in the back are also figs, and, this being the Southland, avocados. My new neighborhood is ripe with produce which tempts me at every turn. I look up wistfully at the lemons I cannot reach without risking serious bodily harm. The low-hanging ones are picked off by passersby as soon as they look remotely ready, so I have to keep a keen eye out.Yes, I know I can just go pick up a bunch at the grocery store, but it’s not the same as holding a freshly plucked prize in my paws. I fear that I may have inherited my Grandma Edna’s penchant for lifting. Of course, I am no match for her in that department. She would stash as many as twenty items of contraband in her pockets, purse, or bra, and even sometimes her shoes, and walk out of the drugstore with her head held haughtily high. I could never do that, but I have been known to cadge a lemon or maybe an unwanted free paper left wilting on the sidewalk. I don’t have her penchant for outright thievery, but I do love to encounter a treat on my walks.“Excuse me, sir?”I waved as I said it because he had those earpod thingies stuffed into the sides of his head, and I wasn’t sure he could hear me. The fast motion must have startled him because he jumped slightly, and then looked up and pulled the miniature speakers out of his ears.“Do you think it’s okay if I take some of those?” I asked, pointing to a lemon tree in front of the building he was leaving, which was bursting with fresh gems.His gaze followed my finger.“Yes, yes; they’re for the neighborhood. Please take whatever you can reach.”I grabbed a half-dozen, annoying Fairness in the process. He does not share my fascination with local citrus and would prefer to get on with our walk. This brought my total of gathered lemons to ten. I scrubbed them all and then put them whole into a pot, then covered them with water, and put a weighted pan on top. Simmered for a few hours, they take on a jammy quality. I let them drain and cool, and then removed the seeds and processed them—skins, pith, and insides. This turned into a lemon paste which I have been using to perfect my recipe for lemon blondies. It can also be used to make a sauce, or dressing, and the punchiest lemon curd you have ever tasted.It is interesting to me to note that my old Beverly Hills ’hood had almost no offerings of this kind. It was full of beautiful gardens, but all of the plantings were ornamental. There was no food growing there—at least none that was visible from the streets and sidewalks. I grew up in Huntington Beach, which was for a long while redolent with the scent of citrus. Groves of orange trees surrounded my Park Street neighborhood and also fields of strawberries. There were sidewalk fruit stands which sold berries so ripe and fresh that they exploded with sweet juice when you bit into themThey are gone now. The real estate has grown too valuable for cultivation of that kind. The whole shebang was once the property of the Standard Oil Company, so a drive through our town full of orchards included the odd mix of oil wells—the kind that look like horses reaching for water in a trough as they go up and down. The oil folks are more concerned with profits than preservation, so that landscape is long gone. Even most of the wells have been replaced by condos and tract homes. Still, many yards in the area are rich with remnants of its agricultural roots. Guava trees hug the walls, and all manner of citrus persists in the remaining patches of soil.Perhaps in some of the neighborhoods fruited trees had taken hold and were simply incorporated. I don’t have any idea why some parts of town, including the poorest, are still rife with food trees, while others, including the richest, are not.My neighborhood is so rife with it that one needs to stay sharp to avoid being beaned by a grapefruit grown too ripe for the spindle of branch which nurtured it. They hit the sidewalk regularly with quite a thud.BITTER TRUTH.I had a hairdresser for a while on Sabrina whose name I cannot recall. He was tall and reed-thin, with a thatch of white-blond hair. He was struggling mightily with depression and confided in me that he was taking medication to try to ease the weight of it. John? Tim? What the heck was his name? Such a nice, talented fellow. He lived in Palm Springs and stayed at a friend’s place in town during filming.Palm Springs is another anomaly in the agriculture department. The climate is meant to support cactus and shrubbery, but its dogged citizens have planted and planted and watered and watered, thereby creating an unlikely topography. In addition to the odd greenery of a gazillion golf courses, the place is lousy with fruit trees. Many of the sidewalks that wind through its low-slung buildings on the way to their equally out-of-place swimming pools boast canopies of Meyer lemon and tangerine.“The medication is not working,” (dammit, let’s just go with Bob) confided to me while running a curling iron through my hair. “I still just feel like lying down and never getting up.”There is almost no topic too personal to be discussed in the hair and makeup chair. It is a very intimate environment. We talked about things he could try. Exercise? More protein? Maybe an extra dose of the pharmaceutical stuff just for good measure? We got through the day just fine. He never let his problems interfere with his ability to do his job. He was talented and steadfast.The next week, when we reconvened, he arrived in Hair and Makeup with two grocery bags bulging with grapefruit from his backyard tree in the desert.“You all need to take some of these! My tree is loaded this year.”A lightbulb went off in my head.“Bob, have you been eating grapefruit?” I asked.“Yes, of course. These are delicious, but there is no way I can eat them all.”I explained to “Bob” that grapefruit is forbidden when one is taking antidepressants. (If you have been reading me for any length of time, then you understand how I came upon this particular kernel of insight.) The enzymes in the fruit block the absorption of the medication and prevent it from working. Voila! The secret to Bob’s ongoing struggle had been revealed. He threw his hands up in the air and laughed, relieved to have an explanation.Then he died.Turned out that depression was not the thing keeping him down. He had contracted the AIDS virus in the early days, before we had medications that could keep folks asymptomatic for decades. He had fought hard and lived long enough to be eligible for the new life-saving treatments, but the disease had ravaged his health, and it was too late to reverse the damage. So, yet another talented young man left us too early because of that damnable disease. I cried for days. He was a lovely person.The moral of this story is:If you are depressed, make sure that you know which foods and medications can interfere with your treatment.Also, go to the doctor. The reason you cannot get up out of it may be health-related. I had another friend who thought he was depressed, whose therapist finally urged him to get a physical. It turned out that he was in dire need of open-heart surgery. He went straight from the doctor’s office to the operating theatre and lived to tell the tale.As for me, my life is good—on balance for the most part—but I struggled with depression for years in my twenties and thirties, so I exercise and eat right, get plenty of protein and such. I am blessed to have family and friends who love and support me and lift me up. I am lucky, and I am grateful, but I am leaving nothing to chance ….I have not eaten a grapefruit in thirty years.On we go …Lemon Almond BrowniesIngredients:• 1/2 cup poached lemon purée (see below)• 1 cup granulated sugar• 3/4 cup brown sugar• 4 oz. melted butter• 1 large egg• 2 1/4 cups flour• 1 tsp baking powder• 3/4 tsp salt• 1 tsp vanilla powder (optional)• 1/2 cup almonds, toasted and coarsely choppedToppings:• 3 tbsp raw sugar• Zest of one lemon* Preheat oven to 350°F.* Place almonds in an 8x8-inch square baking pan and toast for 8 minutes. Transfer to a cutting board and coarsely chop. Wipe out the pan, then spray the bottom and sides with cooking spray. Set aside.* In a food processor combine the lemon puree, both sugars, and melted butter. Process for a few pulses, then add the egg and process until smooth. * Add the dry ingredients and pulse until well combined, scraping down sides as needed.* Transfer batter into a mixing bowl, and then add the almonds, stirring to mix in thoroughly.* Spread the batter into a prepared 8x8-inch pan. Bake for 30 to 40 minutes.* Remove the brownies from the oven and let stand for 5 minutes. Meanwhile, in a small bowl, rub the lemon zest into the raw sugar and sprinkle over brownies.* Let cool completely.Lemon Purée* Take several whole lemons (and any leftover pieces of fruit hanging around in the fridge) and place them in a saucepan. Cover with water and bring to a boil.* Reduce heat to a simmer and place a weighted pan or plate on top to keep the fruit submerged. Simmer for at least two hours, adding water as needed to keep the lemons covered.* Drain and let cool until safe to handle, then remove the seeds.* Process the lemons in a food processor until they form a smooth paste. Do not add sugar or salt. We extend our heartfelt gratitude to our valued subscribers whose support makes the publication of Wit and Wisdom possible. Thank you! This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit bethbroderick.substack.com/subscribe