- Brandon Soderberg
- Lemon Tree enables just the right amount of tension and release.
One of Lemon Tree’s detractors is Bay Area legend B-Legit who mentions Lemon Tree’s flavor on the 2018 song “Life Lessons,” when he raps, “We in a Thunderbird, listen to Parliament / Lemon tree ain’t shit, taste retarded.” An indelicate take for sure, but I hear you, B-Legit — the taste is objectively bad and maybe I’ve convinced myself that makes it “fancy” somehow or makes me feel discerning, sophisticated.
Then again, drowsy Atlanta tough guy Young Dolph shouts out Lemon Tree on, as far as I can tell, at least five different songs over the past few years providing a whole itinerary of activities he likes to do while smoking the strain that you might want to do too: He recommends rolling a blunt of Lemon Tree and Gelato on “Drippy” and mixing it with Cherry Pie on “I Think I Can Fly”; and he suggests staying home, smoking some, and watching movies on “On My Way” and claims it goes well with fish and grits on “Bundle.”
I fall somewhere between B-Legit and Young Dolph on Lemon Tree. The taste is a highlight if only because it’s pretty singular, but mixing an already mixed-up strain with more seems unwise. Lemon Tree enables just the right amount of tension and release: a two-pronged surge of meditative clarity and “all my ideas are brilliant” hubris compete as your arms and legs quicken, like a liquid heavier than water or blood is rushing around inside you and then the two strains it contains arrive at a détente and the high flattens, leaving you feeling liquor drunk. Like the room is spinning, though even that stops short and ends up more exciting than awful, a slight sense of vertigo that resets right before it would become too much and topple you over.
Nose: Stale caramel popcorn
Existential dread: 1
Freaking out when a crazy person approaches you: 2
Drink pairing: Kentucky Lemonade
Music pairing: So Drove, Solano Canyon Original Soundtrack