For anyone who’s ever fallen for something in the fruit aisle.
Sunny yellow · Cast in my kitchen · Less fruit bowl, more objet d’art
Late one lemon season, there it was: sitting in a crate in the fruit aisle, the biggest lemon I had ever seen. I had to have it. It became my first ever casting, done in our kitchen with lots of mistakes, lots of learning and a great deal of silicone. My husband is now mildly terrified every time I come home from the shops. Lemons were always going to matter to me. I spent much of my childhood in the Middle East and Cyprus, where they were everywhere: on trees, in bowls, shading the doorways. That might explain the limoncello habit.
The lore
Golden apples. Renaissance writers linked citrus to the golden apples of the Hesperides, guarded by a dragon at the edge of the world. Botanists still call a citrus fruit a hesperidium.
The original show-off. Lemons reached Rome around the first century, and their remains have been found in the grand houses around Vesuvius. They were so rare that only the rich had them. They’ve been showing off ever since.
Oranges and lemons. London’s church bells have been ringing out “Oranges and lemons, say the bells of St Clement’s” for centuries. Read to the end of the rhyme. It takes a turn.
What’s in it, and what isn’t
NZ beeswax and soy, coloured with German-made candle dye, with a cotton wick. That’s the whole list: no fillers, no nasties. No fragrance either. Not “natural fragrance”, not a “botanical blend”. None. Just a faint scent of honey from the beeswax.
Give it for
A limoncello lover. All of the sunshine, none of the hangover.
A housewarming. A little Mediterranean light for the new place.
Anyone life’s handed lemons. Upgrade them.
The details
12.5 cm long, 9 cm wide, 9 cm tall, 530g
Approx. 55+ hours. Indulgent but well-behaved, so let it burn on a tray.
Cast from a real lemon and hand-finished in Auckland
Where it all started: see the Little Lemon, my very first produce candle
For anyone who’s ever fallen for something in the fruit aisle.
Sunny yellow · Cast in my kitchen · Less fruit bowl, more objet d’art
Late one lemon season, there it was: sitting in a crate in the fruit aisle, the biggest lemon I had ever seen. I had to have it. It became my first ever casting, done in our kitchen with lots of mistakes, lots of learning and a great deal of silicone. My husband is now mildly terrified every time I come home from the shops. Lemons were always going to matter to me. I spent much of my childhood in the Middle East and Cyprus, where they were everywhere: on trees, in bowls, shading the doorways. That might explain the limoncello habit.
The lore
Golden apples. Renaissance writers linked citrus to the golden apples of the Hesperides, guarded by a dragon at the edge of the world. Botanists still call a citrus fruit a hesperidium.
The original show-off. Lemons reached Rome around the first century, and their remains have been found in the grand houses around Vesuvius. They were so rare that only the rich had them. They’ve been showing off ever since.
Oranges and lemons. London’s church bells have been ringing out “Oranges and lemons, say the bells of St Clement’s” for centuries. Read to the end of the rhyme. It takes a turn.
What’s in it, and what isn’t
NZ beeswax and soy, coloured with German-made candle dye, with a cotton wick. That’s the whole list: no fillers, no nasties. No fragrance either. Not “natural fragrance”, not a “botanical blend”. None. Just a faint scent of honey from the beeswax.
Give it for
A limoncello lover. All of the sunshine, none of the hangover.
A housewarming. A little Mediterranean light for the new place.
Anyone life’s handed lemons. Upgrade them.
The details
12.5 cm long, 9 cm wide, 9 cm tall, 530g
Approx. 55+ hours. Indulgent but well-behaved, so let it burn on a tray.
Cast from a real lemon and hand-finished in Auckland
Where it all started: see the Little Lemon, my very first produce candle
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