Nonna Lucia kept three lemon trees in terracotta pots on a terrace that caught the whole afternoon.
Every Sunday she would pick the fattest one and make this tart: short, buttery pastry around a filling of drained ricotta, bright with zest, baked only until it trembles. The slices of candied lemon on top were for show, she said — then ate them first. This is her card, copied out and tested in a modern oven, with her notes in the margins.