Lemons

The trees live in the Mediterranean Garden — a couple dozen in glazed pots, wheeled out in spring and back under glass before the first hard freeze. They flower and fruit at the same time, so there's usually something ripe on them from midwinter through the summer.

At The Smokehouse

The lemonade is pressed here, not poured from a mix, and it's the counterweight to everything else on that menu — the whole point of a rub that heavy is something sharp to drink alongside it.

At The Boathouse

Lemon goes out with the fish, cut in wedges on the platter and squeezed into the pan before service. It's the least complicated thing in this guide and the one you'd miss immediately if it were gone.

At The Greenhouse

Lemon and dill together, both cut on the grounds — the dill from the herb beds, the lemon off the potted trees a few hundred feet away. It's the one dressing on the menu where both halves came from inside the park.

Elsewhere

Frozen lemonade at the carts, the same juice run through a machine instead of over ice.