The lemons in Portugal are, it has to be said, abnormal for the most part. In a restaurant in Obidos, an ancient walled village almost as packed with citrus as it is with tourists, I was allowed to pick one that was nearly as big as my head. For some reason I grew very fond of the lemon; nature had excelled herself and I was allowed to adopt, for a short while, one of her progeny.
You may laugh. My family did. But it was a beautiful lemon, and this is my watercolour homage to its deliciousness.