Lemons and the Trap of Freshness Purity

 

Lemons and the Trap of Freshness Purity

January 27, 2026

It is so freeing to no longer feel like everything has to be fresh from the vine. I think people today can actually be healthier on modern food than most people were when everything had to be freshly harvested.

I have thrown away so many lemons and limes that dried up or became moldy before I had a chance to use them. Sometimes they even surprised me by arriving moldy from the store. I would buy them with good intentions, use two or three, and end up tossing the rest.

The issue isn’t the lemons. It’s the friction of reality.

Fresh citrus requires planning, cutting, storage space, remembering it exists, and a race against decay. Whereas what I actually need most days is just a splash of acid to make food taste alive. That’s a functional need, not a romantic one.

When I cook, I finish dishes with lemon. I use it on arugula, beans, soups, salads, and pizza. I need it in small, frequent amounts—not in big, lemon-forward recipes. I’m not buying lemons to make lemonade. I’m buying them to perform a utility role. And that’s exactly what bottled lemon is designed for.

I used to think health meant everything had to be fresh, local, seasonal, perfect...all of that. But what I actually need most days is consistency, not purity.

There’s a kind of liberation in realizing that “fresh from the vine” is a romantic ideal, not a practical health strategy. For most of human history, “fresh” meant seasonal, unpredictable, often nutritionally limited, and frequently unsafe or spoiled.

Modern food systems, for all their flaws, have given us year-round access to fruits and vegetables, safe preservation methods (freezing, canning, concentrating), and stable nutrition without the constant risk of loss.

From a public health perspective, people today can be far more consistently nourished than almost anyone in the past - not because food is perfect now, but because it’s reliable.

Freshness purity can be a trap. A lot of modern food culture teaches that frozen is inferior, canned is lazy, and shelf-stable is suspect.

But in real nutritional science, frozen vegetables often retain more nutrients than “fresh” produce that has sat in transit for days. Canned beans make fiber and protein actually accessible in daily life. Concentrated citrus provides regular micronutrients without waste.

Health comes from what you eat repeatedly, not what you idealize occasionally.

A more grounded relationship with food moves from performative health (“I should be using fresh lemons”) to functional health (“I actually use lemon every day now”). It’s the difference between identity-based eating (being the kind of person who eats fresh) and system-based eating (being the kind of person who eats well, consistently).

This shift in my relationship with food aligns with my broader philosophy. It’s not about heroic effort, purity, or optimization. It’s about sufficiency, low friction, and real-life nourishment.

I’m trying to design a life where good choices are easy, healthy defaults are automatic, and guilt is removed from the system.

Which, frankly, is probably healthier than 95% of “perfect” diets that collapse under their own complexity.

So for this reason, I’ll be adding a Pillsbury refrigerated pizza crust, some frozen vegetables, and a bottle of Real Lemon concentrate to my grocery list.

I’m not lowering the bar.
I’m finally putting it at a human height.

Still Curious. Still Growing, Still Grateful.

by Janis @ Simple Raw and Natural