Grapefruit, love child of an orange/pomelo hookup, flaunts one parent’s sunny nature and the other’s thick-skinned, rotund ways. The hybrid is all sunny bright, easy-peel, sweet and sour cheer. That’s how it rolls.
And yet, I contrived to press grapefruit flat, to square it off into lemon-bar portability.
I squeezed and mixed and baked. Yielding something sweet, soured by a whiff of fruitcake. In another word: bad.
After many yellow squares and many square yellow leftovers, I was visited by a revelation. Fresh grapefruit: good. Cooked grapefruit: bad.
So I reformatted my bars, confining grapefruit to a fresh zest finish. Which worked. The bars sliced up lemon bold, grapefruit fresh, sunshine sweet. Score another for hybrid vigor.