The Space Between

I am a worshiper of negative space. I could spend the majority of my time with my neck craned back and my eyes looking up at the sky, treasuring the brilliant blue streaks of light as they envelop the branches of trees or peak out from the spaces between buildings.

I've been really fortunate to live in some locations that are really conducive to this tendency of mine- from the deciduous forests of Ann Arbor to the the tall ancient apartment buildings of Madrid, and finally, the glorious trees that line the Berkeley streets...all of these objects generate unique silhouettes against the sky.

Yet, there's one problem here in Berkeley. I get distracted when I'm trying to piece together these disparate collections of light. There are lemons in the way.


Yes, these yellow orbs emerge like teardrops from the trees, just waiting to be relieved of the burden of hanging onto the branches for their dear lives. Lemons grow practically year-round in California. Perhaps for this reason, Berkeley citizens don't seem to mind leaving such delicious fruit on their trees. What they don't realize is that they're tempting people like me, who want both an unobstructed view of the light between branches and a free pile of lemons for my cooking adventures! How inconsiderate!

So I've developed a scheme. When I'm on a run along the Berkeley streets, I sneak by these overloaded trees and grab a couple of lemons, only to dash off into the distance before someone notices the crime that I've committed. I've scored quite a few lemons this way (and a couple of unripe oranges. big mistake!)

I think I could dedicate a (very boring) book to my history with lemons. I cannot imagine a time when we didn't have two baskets of them (one for regular lemons and the other for meyers, which deserve a post on their own) in the kitchen. To this day, visits to my grandmother's house entail picking both types of lemons from her trees in the backyard and lugging them home in leftover plastic bags. Given that we had a continuous supply, we'd put lemon on everything we ate- cucumbers (pepino con limon y sal), rice, meat, even popcorn. In fact, my brother and I used to eat them raw, with salt and chili powder sprinkled on top. I guess I'm lucky to still have enamel on my teeth!

So this recipe is for those who have much saner relationships with lemons. It's a pico de gallo salsa that's meant to accompany a Mexican feast of huevos rancheros. Actually, the idea for the feast came about during a study break with Frances, while staring at the light emanating from the spaces between the branches of a willow tree.

Pico de Gallo Salsa
This will be even more amazing in the summer, when tomatoes are in full season!

2 large ripe tomatoes (or 6-7 smaller ones), diced
1/4 of a medium sized onion (white, red, or yellow), sliced thinly and diced
1/2 of a serrano chile, also sliced thinly and diced
juice of 1 lemon
1-2 tbs. chopped cilantro

Combine the tomato, onion, and chile in a bowl. Add the lemon juice and cilantro and stir. Let sit for 15 minutes- season with salt and pepper to taste.

Makes about 2 cups