The kitchen is aglow with citrus fruit. The lemons came with their wide, glossy leaves intact. Oranges, their skin flashed with viridian at the stem and sporting thin, pointed leaves, smelled of their own blossom. A box of wrinkled green makrut limes, warty and beautiful, now sit waiting to be grated into a green curry sauce. There is even a handful of bergamots, the yellow-green lemons whose tantalisingly perfumed zest I will use in a pot of citrine yellow curd. The tight-skinned citrus varieties, such as the neat clementines and larger, almost perfectly round Valencias, are inevitably the juiciest and