I haven't tasted them yet; they still have two weeks to go. But as soon as I’ve let the jar sit for the suggested minimum preservation time, I’ll be a little showy about it. I’ll invite over a few close friends, pour some glasses of an extra-dry white wine, and while everyone is mingling, I’ll throw thick filets of a firm white fish, olives, and my matured lemons in a casserole dish and into the oven. Again, I’ll wait. And when it comes time to eat, when we’ve all sloppily scooped the tagine onto our plates, when voices are raised, when forks are scraping against plates, and when everyone’s had a little too much wine to give me attention, maybe I’ll feel some sense of accomplishment. I’ll be able to say, “Hey, I made those preserved lemons,” if only to myself.