Lemon Pie

Posted for Wendy!!



Lemon Meringue Pie

Crust
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
½ teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon sugar
6 tablespoons (very cold) unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
1/4 cup (chilled) vegetable shortening, cut into 4 pieces
2 tablespoons ice cold vodka
1-2 tablespoons ice water

1. Process ¾ cup flour, salt, and sugar in food processor using 2-3, one-second pulses. Add butter and shortening and process for 10 seconds (dough will be in uneven clumps – do not over process… there should be visible pieces of butter but no dry (uncoated) flour. until homogeneous dough just starts to collect in uneven clumps, about 15 seconds (dough will resemble cottage cheese curds and there should be no uncoated flour). Scrape bowl of food processor with rubber spatula to redistribute dough around blade. Add remaining ½ cup flour and pulse quickly, 4-6 times. Empty flour mixture into a bowl.

2. Sprinkle cold vodka and ice water over mixture. Mix lightly with a rubber spatula or by hand until dough sticks together. (But don’t handle too much—the key to flaky crust is minimal handling.) Gather dough into a disk and wrap in plastic. Refrigerate for one hour. Meanwhile, preheat oven to 400 degrees and move oven rack to lowest position.

3. After one hour, roll out dough and place in pie plate. (For this crust, you may want to roll out between two sheets of waxed paper, using extra flour sparingly if needed.) Refrigerate dough in pie plate for 20 minutes.

4. Remove from refrigerator and line crust with foil. Fill with pie weights (or pennies—the copper is a good heat conductor). Place pie plate on rimmed baking sheet and bake for 15 minutes.

5. Remove from oven, remove foil and weights. Rotate crust on baking sheet and return to oven for 10 minutes or until crust is crisp and golden . Remove from oven and allow to cool.

Lemon Filling:
1 cup sugar
¼ cup + 1 teaspoon cornstarch
1/8 teaspoon salt
1 ½ cups cold water
6 egg yolks
1 tablespoon lemon zest and juice from 3 lemons (about ½ cup)
2 tablespoons butter

1.Mix sugar, cornstarch, salt and water in saucepan. Simmer over medium heat, whisking as mixture thickens. When mixture simmers, whisk egg yolks into the pan. Add lemon zest, lemon juice. Continue to simmer and add butter. Whisk over low heat until mixture becomes thick.

2.Leave lemon filling in the pan and cover with plastic wrap while meringue is prepared.

Meringue Topping:
6 egg whites
½ teaspoon vanilla
¼ teaspoon cream of tartar
¼ to ½ cup sugar (depending on your preference)

1.Preheat oven to 325 degrees and adjust oven rack to middle position.
2.Beat egg whites and vanilla until foamy.
3.Mix cream of tartar and sugar in small bowl.
4.Continue beating egg white mixture, adding sugar in small amounts, until still peaks form.
5.Remove plastic wrap from lemon filling and return to low heat very briefly. Pour hot filling into baked (cooled) pie shell.
6.Top with meringue and bake the pie until meringue begins to brown. (10-15 minutes). Remove from oven and cool for several hours.


(Adapted from Cook's Illustrated and The New Best Recipe Cookbook)

Old Promises - Unfolding Meaning

Without a doubt,
He has held us up,
taken on and supported the weight
of our
deep and poignant distress
unfortunate outcomes
disasters
mishaps
misadventures
troubles
even our annoyances…
and He carries our sorrows.


Mr. Webster may have helped me decipher this ancient promise, but the journey has proved it trustworthy and real. My friends who hurt need this. I need it, too!

Thursday's Child

There's a nursery rhyme that can be traced back to the 1700's that goes something like this:

"Monday's child is fair of face,
Tuesday's child is full of grace,
Wednesday's child is full of woe,
Thursday's child has far to go.
Friday's child is loving and giving,
Saturday's child works hard for a living,
But the child born on the Sabbath day,
Is fair and wise and good and gay."

Apparently, it is attributed to writers on both sides of the pond, and whether British or American, some Mother named Goose had something to do with it. The story goes that the naming of days has its roots in astrology and somehow, the gods for which those days are named possessed certain characteristics that are magically transferred to infants born on that day.

So no matter how much one would long to be fair, graceful, loving, wise, etc., if you made the scene on a Wednesday, Thursday or Saturday... too bad, so sorry, so sad. Because Woden, the Norse god, was not a cheerful sort. Thor, the Germanic thunder god, was the only one who couldn't cross over to heaven on the rainbow (and so had to go the long way around??) And Saturni, the Roman god of agriculture, had the heavy job of working the earth. Who knew that there were occupational hazards associated with being divine?

A week ago, I was again going a long way. There were mechanical delays on two different flights. As a result, two connecting flights were missed. That made me nearly seven hours late in meeting my colleagues. We all survived.

Arriving back at the airport for a return flight on Sunday, I learned that the flight would be delayed. The 90-minute delay in departure made for quite a sprint to a connecting flight at DFW. Along the way, there were quite a few grouchy passengers and an equal number of unpleasant airline personnel. (This would be the perfect place for a rabbit trail about the apparently unhappy, harried life of gate agents, except that it would be nothing but negative!)

It all boils down to this... our lives are supposed to be more about journey than about destination. But I was born on a Thursday. Thor also had red hair (and possibly rick rack teeth?) I have far to go. Mechanical delays and missed connections are likely to continue. There are grumpy people everywhere. It has taken me 56 years, 8 months and 17 days to embrace this reality.

The forecast calls for going the long way around... no rainbow riding. But thankfully, we are not imprisoned by nursery rhymes, mythology or astrological predictions. There is One who assures us that the day of our birth neither defines, nor confines us -- that's grace! And it is enough to get us through even the most challenging of days.

One of Those Days

Once in awhile, there are days that simply shine... when relationships prove authentic and strong, when work is ripe with purpose, when sadness is punctuated by laughter, when someone communicates 'you matter.' Not necessarily unhurried, but full -- these are not the Big Days in life -- but ordinary ones which surprise you with new perspective about the degree to which you have been blessed. Days like this are pure grace.

It was one of those days.

Pondering Life, Death and Eternity

No stranger to death, there is a well worn trail that we have walked with others --family, friends, and once in awhile with someone we don't know well. The journey has mostly been with those who share our faith.

But I am a foreigner in the land of loss paved with other traditions.

Today I attended a Jewish funeral service. Our friend died -- a faithful husband, family man, community servant and philanthropist among other things. His life was well lived. His death was unexpected. The service was comforting with readings from the Psalms and meaningful eulogies. There was mention of this life and the next; of God--the shepherd and judge; spoken Hebrew-- prayers perhaps. At the burial site, the rabbi spoke the familiar words, "dust to dust," and then he said, "his (our friend's) righteousness goes on before him, leading him into eternity."

As the casket was lowered into the ground and the family rose to shovel earth over it, the words continued to resound in my mind and I thought, if it were my righteousness going before me to lead me into eternity, the procession would not go very far. Thanks be to God that nothing depends on my righteousness.

and then the phone rings

one of those first fall days
crisp breeze
morning sun
not yet colorful, but leaves lifting
glass on the table half-full
final salute to summer in your bowl
last peach
and then the phone rings
a friend is gone
breath catches
heart clutches
you place your head
in a padded temple of hands
no words are enough
for this half-empty
season of sadness

************************

Haven't been here in a long, long time. It took a sad, sad day to get back to blogging.

The 25 Things

It's all the rage on facebook-- posting 25 random things about yourself and then tagging 25 people to do the same... have been resisting this and not sure why. So this kid did what I normally do when I have a dilemma--went to the dictionary (I know-- you thought I was going to say I prayed about it. Nope! Dictionary fetish!)

Random, according to the great minds at Princeton means "lacking any definite plan or order or purpose..." No wonder this troubles my order-hungry, purpose-seeking soul! Just not into random, folks.

So, the first thing that came to mind was that:
1. 25 things is 24 things too many.

Now I will work on the rest of the list--in what order or for what purpose, I am unsure... but guaranteed I will keep looking for both!

2. When I was five years old, I came to love Jesus and told my Mom that I wanted to really be sure he lived in my heart. I worried about whether or not my heart was big enough for anyone to live there, but never told my Mom that. Couldn't figure out how someone as big as Jesus sounded could also be so little. Have spent the years since learning that little is good.

3. The next thing I did was drag my dear brother, Danny, to my Mother's knee and told her that he needed Jesus too and forced him to agree with me. No way was I leaving my best bud behind!

4. Not long after that, I also convinced my dear Danny that he could in fact jump over the rose bushes beside our front door -- an experiment which left thorns in his behind. I hope by now he has forgiven me.

5. I was afraid to go to school. Both kindergarten and first grade were terrifying for me. It so upset me to be away from home that I would become ill in the lunchroom and be sent back to the classroom alone. Never ate the lunch packed for me because I was too nervous to eat. One day my teacher found out that my lunchbox was still full of food at the end of the day and made me stand in front of the class and explain why. Awful, simply awful-- people were looking at me! Extroversion is a learned behavior for this little introvert.

6. Learning to read opened up new worlds for me and began a lifelong love affair with words. If you are looking for me, check the corner -- I will be the one with her nose stuck in a book.

7. See, I'm doing this in order!

8. Now for a random comment...I met my husband before I could talk. When I was seven or so, I declared to my Mother that I would marry David Milton when I grew up. She assured me that perhaps I would marry someone like him. It was quite a few turns in the road before it actually came to pass. But I am glad to be married to him... read some of my earlier posts and you will see why. He is one cool dude.

9. While we are on words, I became interested in the life and poetry of Emily Dickinson in the fourth grade. Fourth grade was my favorite year, I will never forget Mrs. Bren, feeling included for the first time and thinking maybe life was understandable after all. Of course that feeling fled before fifth...

10. My sister always got to do everything first...being the second child, I was, you guessed it, always second. At one point I complained to my parents that Janet would probably get to die and go to Heaven first, too. Several times, people have accused me of not being cautious enough and perhaps trying to ensure that prophetic statement did not come true. The jury is still out. And Janet is still out, ahead of me, but in a good way.

11. When my brother David was born, I insisted that I would be the FIRST person in the family to hold him...other than my sainted Mother, of course. He was just a couple of days old and in my eight-year-old mind I took charge of him that very day.

12. My Dad taught me how to drive a tractor when I was 12. It was a proud moment.

13. Oh dear, 13 and 14...very bad years for me. Couldn't figure out the early adolescent thing...had no clue about why the girls were acting that way-- or the boys either. You could not pay me to go back.

14. Oh my! I am not meeting the random requirement of this assignment, suddenly it has turned into a life history. So now for something totally different, may I mention that I love the number 4? Of course, just like the color blue, my littlest bro stole it from me as his favorite number as soon as he was old enough to count. But sorry, D. McG., four belongs to me...always has, always will.

15. Around seventh grade I decided that I would go to Wheaton College -- of course, I didn't make it there until after graduating from HS-- but I liked to plan ahead even then. My Mother attended there and it seemed like the thing to do. Loved it then and now. Took my little namesake niece, Laurel Hone The Cuter, there for a visit when she was 11-- maybe she will want to go too.

16. Flute, bassoon, saxophone, oboe, clarinet, and piano have been part of my musical education -- as well as singing. The Hone children were born in this order -- Soprano, Alto, Tenor, Bass...consult item number 10 and figure it out. Not bragging on this one-- I was always a mediocre musician, never a star and music theory? Well, let's just end number 16 right here.

17. In 2007 I helped plan, organize and also sang in a jazz festival in Morocco. It was an exhilarating and sometimes, exhausting experience... but the people who went with us were as wonderful as the people we met there.

18. Cross cultural friendships -- long history of these and so appreciate everyone of them, probably the result of having many international students and missionaries in our home going way, way back. I admire my Mother for taking an interest in internationals, teaching them English, and helping them adjust to life in a new culture.

19. Musicals, plays and acting opportunities were a focus of involvement in High School and later in community theatre after college...Nancy in Oliver, Fruma Sarah in Fiddler, Ado Annie in Oklahoma, and then there were plays. Oh yes, dancing and gymnastics were also early passions. Getting lost on the stage and being someone else... hmmm I need an analyst here!

20. Speaking of getting lost, there is a place in Minnesota that I have gone every summer of my life (except maybe one.) In my humble opinion, it is the most glorious place on earth-- the woods always welcome you back, comfort you when you are sad, and are waiting to fill you up with beauty and wonder. If I have a true home, it is there.

21. I can warble as well as any loon. In fact, when my loon call echoes across the lake, other loons answer me. I am quite proud of this.

22. Sorry Megan, I do enjoy sudoku! Two years ago, my DH gave me a book of 500 Mensa Sudoku Puzzles. Not sure I am Mensa material, because I am still only on number 334. They are much more challenging than most and when I close my eyes at night I still see the puzzles and numbers in my head. My favorite sudoku puzzles are the ones where I can fill in all the 4's FIRST!!!

23. In the past FOUR days, I have experienced the joy of reconnecting with some long lost cousins on facebook. Well, in truth, they weren't lost, I have not been a very good correspondent. But it did make me very happy to find them and now I have a dream of the whole extended group of cousins somehow being together on fb--sharing pictures and stories and memories.

24. The world's most wonderful beagle lives at our house. Her name is Daisy and she is a delightful companion. She'll be 10 in May...long may she live! Many days she sits by my side in the office and I balance with a beagle on one knee and a laptop on the other.

25. I love to hike, and yes, dear reader, I have climbed 3 fourteeners...I just don't talk about it much because it was during the years when I was also scaling some inner mountains. In the last 15 years my hiking has been confined to the flatlands...where I also found beauty in the prairie.

I consider myself to be blessed beyond all deserving with so many friends.
Thanks for reading this far. If you get here, you're it...I am tagging you which in facebook-speak means it is now your turn to post 25 scintillating-but-random things about yourself.

Just to make this totally embarrassing, here is my first grade picture -- taken before my rick rack teeth grew in!

Wordle

Thanks to La Perfectionista for this...





(click on it...)

The Rest of the Story on Scents...

For nearly a month, there's been an intention to blog... but as my Irish grandmother used to say, "Good intentions pave the road to h@##..." (She only started using that kind of language in her 90's -- but she was 4'11" of spitfire and quirky humor all her days.) Bottom line, intentions don't cut it. But there is another chapter to be told about the Scents & Sensibility post. And even thirty days or more after the fact, it is a sweet tale.

My DH (not to be confused with my dear DMH and my dear GDH) was touched by the Scents blog. In fact, he wanted me to send it somewhere -- he thought it should have a wider readership and he thought the message was important. Well, dear readers, if I can not get my act together to post a holiday blog, or a Christmas blog, or a New Year's list of resolutions, the chances of my chasing down publishing venues are slim.

Still, he really, really liked the post. So underneath the tree on Christmas morning, was a beautifully wrapped package -- all red and gold -- topped by a thick card. Upon my turn, I opened it (we may be lapsed Presbyterians, but we still do things in order--even on Christmas morning!). Inside the card was a copy of my blog and a message about how he had looked high and low for a perfume called 'Integrity' or 'Honesty' or 'Kindness' but couldn't find one. He wrote that he wanted to give me a perfume which reflected what he saw in my character. There were two he debated over -- one called 'Amazing Grace' and another called 'Beautiful'. In the red and gold box was a gift set of lotion, cologne and perfume. It is Beautiful to think that after many years of marriage your best friend can still look at you and see something of beauty. The discerning heart that sees what is important and the eager hunter that always finds just the perfect, reflective gift are two of the many reasons why I love my Dear Husband.

If there were a scent named for him it would be called The Best.

Scents & Sensibility

Every year at this time advertising accelerates which means more catalogs and more perfume inserts falling out of them.

Yesterday, I decided to actually sniff at some of these inserts and found myself sidetracked by the naming of perfumes. Long ago, when my dear Mother was braiding my curly hair, there were two perfumes – Jean Nate and Chanel No. 5. She used one or the other to pat down the rosy frizzies crowning my head. Never gave their names much thought. Later on I began to notice other perfumes… Lily of the Valley (not hard to understand), Emeraud (okay…green bottle like emeralds), and then I encountered Tabu – a fascinating name for a fourteen-year-old. Tabu was the first perfume that got me wondering about scents and nonsense. The idea of smelling like something forbidden was quite delicious in my junior-high thinking… as long as that forbidden something actually smelled tolerable.

The years rolled and with them a range of names – some fruity – like Royal Lime and Love’s Fresh Lemon -- with the implications that limey equals royalty and lemons are the scent of love. Then came Love’s Baby Soft – who doesn’t love a baby and they are soft! There was also 4711 which I never understood, except that if Chanel could have a number 5, there were perhaps 4,706 other scents between the two including 1000 De Jean Patou, 12 Couturier, and 273.

There were the flower scents – Fleur de Desirade, Fleur d’Eau, and Fleur D’Interdit as well as the water scents – Cool Water, Eau de Soir and Eau Savage (what do savage waters actually smell like… a Minnesota pond in late August? No sale.)

Moving forward in life, I noticed that perfume naming branched out – Obsession, Compulsion and Secret Obsession hit the market – perfumes which had a corresponding diagnosis code in the Physician’s Desk Reference. Now one could literally, wear one’s issues on one’s sleeve. And then there are the subtle implications of smelling like Intuition, Happy, Splash, Splendour and Sensuous. One can choose between a drop of lofty, laughy or a little naughty.

Then came Eternity and Heaven. Perfume could be a spiritual experience that lifts one’s sight above that of human experience. Clothed in eternity, one hopes to reach heaven so these are scents that seem somehow, relevant.

Which brings us to yesterday. The first fragrance to fall out of the catalog was Unforgivable. What does that mean? Is the person who wears it is beyond forgiveness or is it unforgivable to purchase it – or not purchase it? What does being unforgivable actually smell like? It seems to me that being beyond forgiveness may actually have the scent of death about it. Does anyone actually want to smell that way? Isn’t being unforgivable a scary thing?

Perhaps it is too great a leap to jump from perfume to the Bible – although there was that woman who used a bottle of precious perfume on the feet of Jesus. Jesus was all about forgiveness and it seems He wanted us to be about forgiveness also. The Bible says there is only one thing that is truly unforgivable. I, for one, do not want to be known for that. Yet forgiveness is not a ride on a pink duck (to borrow a phrase) – sometimes it is easy to feel unforgivable and very hard to be forgiving. But do we want to smell Unforgivable?

Have we come to a point in our culture that being the bad man or woman is so alluring that we glorify it and name perfumes after it?

I would like my life to reflect a different aroma – perhaps a perfume called Integrity or Compassion or Faithfulness or Gentleness – but those fragrances are not to be found at the perfume counter and I wonder… Why?

The answer was found in the next fragrance leaflet falling from the catalog.

It was called I Am King.

Google Analytics...

... do you have google analytics?

It is that helpful little program that fills one's life with all sorts of interesting statistics. For example, this evening I clicked on analytics and found a red 43.6 percent with a downward arrow. (Insert sad face.)

But my favorite part of the reporting is going in a bit further to read about visitors (Don't worry, it does not divulge the identity of blog visitors-- you, dear reader, may remain anonymous!) There are interesting stats, graphs, maps and categories -- the best of which is entitled:
Absolute Unique Visitors.
Isn't that a wonderful label?

After all, most people are absolutely unique in some way. It is a privilege to discover exactly what is unique about each person.

As we enjoyed an evening with good friends tonight, listening, laughing and sharing stories, I looked around the table and was struck with the uniqueness of each friend. We have different interests, backgrounds, and life experiences and yet the delight of being together, catching up and relating as a group was rich and satisfying.

In the analytics of my heart, the evening will be recorded as 100 percent with an upward arrow. I am so grateful for the gifts of authentic relationships, laughter, and the love of friends!

15 Years of Thankful...

This is a significant day in our lives -- I am so thankful for the last 15 years. The ups and downs, the crazy pace, the people-packed years, the love, giggles, sobs, sighs, struggles, triumphs -- they add up and spill over with the sheer joy of knowing you are there, morning after morning, day after day, year after year.

You know who you are... and why I'm so thankful.

I'll keep showing up, as long as you are there!

H., H., T., M.,

L

Giving Thanks at All Times in All Places

Poised on the edge of great gratitude, the world news pops up on your screen and you read about violence in India... or just before bed, your stepson pops into the kitchen with a long face to tell you that one of his young colleagues was randomly, murdered last night on the way home from rehearsal. And the great swell of gratitude on Thanksgiving eve -- enhanced by the fragrance of freshly baked pie -- turns into a swamp of stinky despair and questions.

There are no answers for this type of evil and the contrast between this and the great feast we are about to enjoy in the name of thankfulness simply boggles the mind.

Yet we are called to give thanks... and when we can not -- when the journey is too incomprehensible we find it hard to mark the day with anything but sadness.
Gratitude is a choice.
When I do not feel it. I will do my best to choose it... and leave the rest to the One who already holds the outcome to all things in His holy hands.

Handel's Messiah

This evening, it was a privilege to hear the Kansas City Symphony and Chorus perform Handel's Messiah. No matter how many times I hear it, the music and words move my spirit. Coming away, the night air was brisk -- there was quiet... but the memory of the music pulsed in head and heart. Is there a better gift than music -- especially the music that sounds through corridors of time?

I'm grateful!

Whoops! Blogging... I Forgot!

Apologies Dear Readers (all 17 of you!) I fell out of cyber space for a time and forgot all about blogging. Hate when that happens.

Picking back up on the gratitude theme, tonight is brought to you by the letter W.
This evening I am thankful for:
word games -- especially the win-able ones...
warm home on a chilly night
wonderful siblings -- they each deserve their own entry, coming soon to this blog
wool sweaters, especially the soft ones
wonder that fills the mind
windows which give perspective on the world and
wisdom from above -- always just when needed, never too late

Thanksgiving is coming... my all time, favorite holiday... blue plates, best eats ever and bubbling over with happy memories of family and special friends. Wonderful!

List Interrupted But Gratitude Continues

Interrupted by life, there are times one falls off the blogbox, but the gratitude continues to pile up.

A few more remarkable things for which I am grateful:

• vitality (when I feel it)
• robust health (especially when I don't have it!)
• freedom
• having meaningful work AND
• being paid to do meaningful work!
• blogs that inspire new thoughts -- or old thoughts about important subject
• blogs that make me laugh
• singing hymns -- in my heart and sometimes, out loud
• the gift of a piano in my home
• the intelligence and compassion of my family, especially my dear Mother -- she deserves her own post and one of these days, she'll have it
• friends who will not let me rest, until I've seen a doctor
• friends who bring chicken soup, jello and all manner of soothing eats when one of us is ill
• phone messages that remind us we are loved
• the little personal notes my husband writes on the grocery list in between peanut butter and paper towels
• facebook! (also on the list of things I hate... facebook! so perhaps it cancels itself out -- but on the positive side, how amazing to connect with people from 20+ years ago!)
• Psalms
• my five-year-old neighbor who refreshes my perspective with her enthusiastic outlook
• a down comforter on a chilly night
• hot tea + lemon juice + honey --- and the ahhhhhhh it brings
• Jeff's chapel talks and the faith that prompts them
• finished projects!! (thank you K, S, M, M, C and C for the gift catalog... significant accomplishment for all)
• kindred-spirit colleagues/friends

Giving thanks... for all these things and more!

Thankful for the Skidlets...

My life was changed forever the day I met these three amazing little people...

...who grew into these three delightful musketeers...

... who one day became these three admired and much-loved friends.







I am so grateful for Stephen, Meredith and Jeffrey!
Giving thanks for them and because of them... with great love!

The Blessing of Special Friends

What could be better than a friend -- someone with whom to laugh, cry, work, play and pray? Today I am grateful for my friend, Kristin -- for her joy and humor, for her creativity and curiosity, and for her honesty. Her undivided heart is an inspiration. Her smile lights up any room. This fine friend blesses my life!

We Interrupt This Listing for a Brief Rant

Tattoos

Why?

I simply do not understand.

Number 13. Changing Seasons

Have you ever noticed how people avoid the number 13? Some buildings don't have a 13th floor. Some folks won't sit row 13 on and aircraft (and some aircraft don't even have a row 13.) In the midst of all this gratitude, I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable by showing up in the number 13 spot, so... let's give thanks for someTHING! I am thankful for the changing seasons, especially Fall. There's nothing quite like waking to a crisp morning, colored leaves and that special something in the air.(No, I do not mean mold and pollen.) Here's a little poem for Fall

Falling

Flipping their crimson curls,
the trees shake their heads.
Burgundy, gold and brown leaves
float farewells
through crisp air.
Against a balsam backdrop,
the true-blue sky
sings of summer.
But the wind,
nipping at the waves,
whispers “change!”