Pistachio-Crusted Lemon Bars
With a crumbly pistachio crust and a filling that includes olive and coconut oils, these bars are so rich and tart, you’ll hardly notice they’re dairy-free. Dried rose petals, which are edible, have a more subtle taste than rosewater, but a little bit goes a long way—so use in moderation.
Makes 16 bars
Active Time: 45 minutes
Total Time: 6 hours (including minimum cooling time)
PISTACHIO CRUST
6 tablespoons cold (solid) coconut oil, plus more for greasing the pan
½ cup shelled pistachios
½ cup all-purpose flour
½ cup confectioners’ sugar
1 teaspoon freshly grated lemon zest
¼ teaspoon fine sea salt
LEMON CURD
3 large eggs
4 large egg yolks
¾ cup sugar
3 tablespoons cornstarch
¼ teaspoon fine sea salt
1 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice (from about 5 lemons)
4 tablespoons finely grated lemon zest
⅓ cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons chopped toasted pistachios
1 teaspoon crushed rose petals, for garnish (optional)
Make the pistachio crust: Grease an 8-inch square baking pan with coconut oil. Line the pan with 2 crisscrossing strips of parchment paper, greasing between each layer and leaving a 2-inch overhang on all sides. Grease the top and sides of the parchment-lined pan. Place the coconut oil in a small bowl in the refrigerator until it is solid, 30 minutes to 1 hour. In the bowl of a food processor, pulse the pistachios until almost fine, 30 seconds. Add the flour, confectioners’ sugar, lemon zest, and salt and pulse until incorporated, 15 pulses. Using a spoon, addt the coconut oil in small chunks to the food processor, and pulse until the mixture looks like uniform large breadcrumbs, 15 to 20 pulses. Pour into the prepared pan, pressing down to form a crust but not overpacking; chill for 30 minutes.
Make the lemon curd: In a small saucepan, whisk together the eggs, egg yolks, sugar, cornstarch, and salt, then whisk in the lemon juice and zest until smooth. Set a fine-mesh strainer over a bowl. Place the saucepan over medium heat and cook, whisking constantly, until the mixture becomes thick and the whisk leaves an impression in the curd and coats the back of a spoon, 8 to 9 minutes. Patience! The thickening will happen quickly at the end.
Remove the saucepan from the heat and use a silicone spatula to push the curd through through the strainer into the bowl below; discard the solids. Whisk in the olive oil until smooth, cool slightly, then press plastic wrap onto its surface to keep it from forming a skin.
Bake the crust and curd: Preheat the oven to 325°F. Bake the chilled crust until it has puffed, then sunk, and is lightly golden, 20 to 22 minutes. Remove it from the oven and cool for 2 to 3 minutes. Raise the oven temperature to 350°F, then pour the filling over the crust, smoothing it evenly with a knife or offset spatula. Bake until the curd has firmed up but the center still moves a bit, 16 to 17 minutes. Remove from the oven, cool completely, seal with plastic wrap, and chill at least 4 hours. Cut into 16 equal pieces and garnish with crushed rose petals (if using) and chopped pistachios.
Sabras
Originally brought to the region by Arab traders who’d encountered them in Spain, sabras are considered Israel’s national fruit, and natural representation of the Israeli personality: prickly on the outside, soft and sweet inside. Also known as prickly pears, sabras grow wild near beaches, in the desert, in people’s gardens—and are picked for sale in markets and roadside stands where, if you’re lucky, they’ve been denuded of their sharp thorns. Professional sabra cutters use chain-mail gloves to remove the spikes and peel them for consumption, but it can also be easily done at home. Simply (carefully) cut the top and bottom off of the fruit, then score the skin lengthwise down one side through the skin. Peel it back to reveal the moderately sweet flesh, whose taste falls somewhere between honeydew, guava, and cucumber. Slightly mealy and only moderately sweet, it’s filled with black seeds you chew around and swallow along with the fruit itself. I serve the cut sabras on a bed of ice on a hot night, letting people pick them up and eat them whole.