Citron Pressé

The mirage of a shimmering citron pressé is the reward that spurred me on through the fearsome heat of long walks with my father in the South of France. When we finally arrived in a local café, dry-lipped, sweating and exhausted, this lemon juice, water and sugar mixture was the most quenching saviour. Perversely, I would leave it in front of me untouched until I could take no more punishment.