I thought I had a few thousand words in me this weekend, dear friends, but for tonight, the pictures will have to suffice. Just between us mice, I was afraid that I had lost my baking touch, my white thumb, especially after a particularly hideous cherry pie I made two weeks ago with a couple of bags of the sour cherries I bought and froze over the summer. The crust was overworked and underbaked, the cherries didn't have enough thickener added to them. Lloyd and I each ate a piece, and the rest was consigned to the rubbish. I didn't have much faith in the Shaker Meyer lemon pie I started last night, prompted by 'mouse's gentle urgings. I had a bitch of a time slicing the lemons evenly; I only gave them a 16-hour maceration, as opposed to the 24-hour maceration the recipe specifies; I only gave the pie dough a four-hour rest, as opposed to the 24-hour rest that is my usual minimum; I managed to drop an egg on the floor, then managed to bump my elbow as I was picking up the filled-but-not-yet-top-crusted pie, sending lemons and sugar cascading over my worktable, threatening to run off the edge. But I caught it all, refilled the pie, lidded, egg-washed, vented and baked it, and other than a bit more crust shrinkage than I like to see, I honestly believe that I could not have made a better pie had everything gone smoothly. If you have never had Shaker lemon pie, with regular lemons or Meyers (but particulary Meyers!), it is an eye-opening and wonderful thing. The texture is somewhere between creamy and jelly-like, rather like a pecan pie, only where a pecan pie is dark and sultry, the lemon pie is bright and sunny. The recipe comes from this wonderful book, a Christmas present from my mother, and yes, Pam, I will certainly share the recipe.
I was so pleased with how the pie turned out that I decided to take a bash at Meyer lemon curd after all. (To 'mouse and nakedjen, I am more than happy to send a jar your way, but this particular jar has been, er, extensively quality-tested.) Because a Meyer lemon is sweeter and more flowery and subtle than a conventional lemon, I figured I could cut back on the sugar. I followed the recipe that was such a big hit at my class at the Colony, Sherry Yard's lemon curd, cutting the sugar back from 2/3 cup to 1/2 cup, and was rewarded with a curd so grand that I am now hooked for life on yet another fruit I can't get out of season. It's worth it, though.
It wasn't all Fun with Meyer Lemons around here, though; nope, I did some practical, utilitarian baking, specifically a collection of muffins and toaster cakes from Mollie Katzen's Sunlight Cafe. Below is the Cornmeal-Millet Toasting Cake, baked in my fancy-pants bundt pan, all set to be cut open, sectioned into 12, and turned into toast, wonderful toast:
And this really deserves a post all its own, a roomy and thoughtful post, but until I get it together to write it, trust me when I tell you that the bowl of soup below is absolutely, positively the best soup I know how to make. It is a beautiful ancient recipe, made from a whole capon, a pound of beef shin, leeks, prunes, salt and nothing else. I can't think of anything else I'd rather make -- or eat -- on a cold day.
