We have her cake and we’ll eat it, too

She came home last week. She saw Holly’s lemons on the table: not Meyers like our tree but the classic Eureka type. Cool! She called dibs. With a great big pretty please.

We had enough sweets around…

She really really wanted that lemon chiffon cake that had so many good memories wrapped around the thought.

Tonight we squinted through the copy of the copy of the copy that had the instructions part mostly cut off–she knew I would just know because I was such a baker all her childhood. I cheated: I compared it to my 1952 Betty Crocker to find out how long I should have it in the oven. And I substituted some of the water with the extra tablespoon of juice the lemon offered up.

I finally baked it for her. And I would brag and tell you how good it was except that we’re not cutting into it till breakfast, so all we’re doing right now is admiring its pretty face.

Call it a fruit omelet, yeah, that’s it.