A Love Letter to Citrus (Especially Lemons)
Let’s talk about Citrus. It’s a wonderful genus — a prolific producer of fruits we know and love. Oranges. Limes. Grapefruits. Mandarins. But also: Citrons. Kumquats. Finger limes. Pomelos. Etrogs. Yuzu. Calamondins.
But of course: lemons.
You’ve heard the phrase, “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” As if lemons are just a default bad thing life throws at you. But honestly? Lemons are all kinds of amazing.
Their history stretches deep into time. There’s archaeological and genetic evidence suggesting lemons have been cultivated for over 4,000 years. Lemons likely originated in northeastern India, as a natural hybrid cross between a citron and a sour orange. Considering research indicates that Citrus lineage could go back an astonishing 8 million years, lemons are shockingly new on the scene. Data shows lemons were being cultivated in Persia (modern-day Iran, Iraq, and Egypt) by the 10th century. They arrived in the Mediterranean around 200 A.D., and eventually made it to the Americas in 1493 — a courtesy of colonialism.
It is safe to say the citrus family tree is messy. The lemon seeds that arrived in North America came by boat, via the Canary Islands which came from lemon trees introduced by the Arabs. The fact that we have so many types of citrus and so many reliable varieties is especially impressive when you consider the wild fact that Citrus does not grow true to seed. This means the seeds from the really wonderful lemons you got from your neighbor will not produce a tree with the same fruit it came from. Without human intervention and care, lemons would have certainly faded away into obscurity.
Almost all the citrus we know today came from just three ancestral species:
Citrons – big, thick-rinded, mostly peel.
Mandarins – sweet, easy to peel.
Pomelos – huge, sweet-to-bitter, very seedy.
From there:
Oranges = Mandarin × Pomelo.
Grapefruit = Pomelo × Sweet Orange (which is itself a hybrid of mandarin and pomelo).
Limes are a whole mess — many aren’t even true citrus, but close relatives that got pulled into the family drama.
Tangelos, tangors, clementines, Yuzu — all are second-, third-, or fourth-generation mixes.
And finally, Lemons = Citron × Sour Orange (so… citron × [mandarin × pomelo]).
It’s like if your family reunion had cousins marrying cousins, step-siblings becoming parents, and every generation inventing new fruit babies with slightly different personalities.
Everyone’s favorite, the Meyer Lemon is known for its sweet, floral notes and, as you may now suspect, is a hybrid citrus. Many people are surprised to find Meyer lemons are more akin to a sour mandarin than a true lemon. While the exact parentage cannot currently be definitively known with our existing technology, genetic analysis suggests a citron and mandarin/pomelo hybrid lineage. Frank Meyer, a plant explorer for the U.S. Department of Agriculture, learned about the Meyer lemon in China in 1908. The Meyer lemon was improved and identified as a virus-free tree in the early 1950s. These days all Meyer lemons are Improved whether the plat tag says the word or not. So they are delicious, yes. But let’s be real: Meyers are barely a lemon!
Most citrus varieties follow a seasonal rhythm—bursting into fragrant bloom in spring, then ripening their fruit in one big harvest. But lemons play by their own rules. Varieties like Eureka, Lisbon, and Meyer will flower and fruit almost year-round in our Napa Valley climate, producing blossoms, green fruit, and ripe lemons all at once. This everbearing habit comes from their origins in warm, frost-free regions without a defined dry season, so they never developed the “rest” period other citrus need. While some limes, calamondins, and a few mandarins may occasionally bloom out of season, lemons are the most reliable for continuous harvests. In the right climate, you can pluck a fresh lemon for your tea in January, zest one for a summer marinade, and still see new flowers opening in autumn. It’s one of the reasons lemons are such a beloved tree or shrub — their beauty, fragrance, and fruit are on display all year long.
So, no — life doesn’t just give you lemons. In fact, life probably only gave us lemons once. Everything else is the result of human curiosity, breeding, grafting, trade, migration, and intentional communication. The saying should be “when life gives you lemons you count your lucky stars and thank the humans who came before you.”
