The 2nd Blog of Christmas

Grandma Mae is a formidable cook. Growing up, I spent many childhood days alongside her whisking and stirring and kneading in the kitchen. I was a little cook and my curious hands were always under Grandma’s watchful eyes. Being doted on by Grandma was grand enough, but with scents of vanilla and sugar mixed in, life was swell.

Some of my fondest memories come from days spent frolicking in her garden, getting lost in never ending rows of plump berries, unearthing giant stalks of rhubarb, and plucking vibrant tomatoes. Famished from all of my arduous work, I’d bask under the apple, cherry and apricot trees, sipping on tart lemonade while sneaking a snack of the fresh fruits begging to be picked. Other memories grew from days spent in her kitchen, as later, we'd turn the bounties I collected into fruit pies, cobblers and cookies.

I know the scent of my grandma’s house like the back of my hand. Warm and spicey, flooded with hints of sweet vanilla. I especially remember anxiously awaiting the holidays so I could return to her kitchen. Holidays at Grandma’s always involved a plethora of pies (these were her favorite to bake). We’d arrive early, around 12, only to find her still toiling away in the kitchen. The bulk of dinner already prepared, but she always left the final touch of the pies for me. She introduced me to the pleasures and magic of baking, so of course, I’d jump at the chance to help. Lemon meringue pie was a staple, as well as my favorite. Well, up until the year I decided that I had had my fill, and the lemon meringue pies vanished from our holiday table. No more sticky white messes, no more meringue to swirl. Now, after several years of not relishing in her famous lemon pie, I have been craving the tart custard nestled under a billowing cloud of meringue.

Grandma still spends much of her time baking. Her cookie jar is always piled high with at least three different cookies. And she often hands down her old cookbooks and handwritten recipes. With such warm memories of food and cooking, it’s no surprise that I am happiest when in the kitchen.

Unfortunately, I will be absent from her Christmas Eve dinner this year, so the memories of her pie continue to remain memories. I have also been longing to make her lemon meringue pie, but seem to have misplaced the recipe. However, as my Grandma also loves a little libation every now and then (especially holiday spirits), I made a lemon meringue pie martini as a tribute instead. And what’s a party without a cocktail (and The Gilded Fork is featuring cocktails this month)?

Thank you, Grandma. She’s why little cooks grow into adult chefs.



Lemon Meringue Pie Martini
Adapted from my liquor cabinet for my Grandma

The bleak gray skies of winter send us seeking warmth and comfort. And, when waning clouds reveal a glimmer of the fragile sun, thoughts of bright citrus flood the air. What this refreshing cocktail lacks in warmth (as in temperature), it makes up for in creaminess and luxuriousness, inherently evoking a comforting rush of excitement for familiar sunny days.

Serves 1

Ingredients
For the cocktail:
2 oz vanilla vodka
1 oz lemon simple syrup
1 oz limoncello
1 oz half and half or light cream
1 Graham cracker, finely ground with 1 teaspoon sugar
Lemon twists for garnish

For the lemon simple syrup:
The zest and peel of 1 lemon
1 cup water
1 cup sugar

Prepartion:
Prepare the lemon simple syrup:
Combine the water and sugar in a small pot. Bring to a simmer over medium heat, and then add the zest and peel. Cover and remove from heat. Let steep for 30 minutes. Cool until ready for use.

Prepare the cocktail:
Spread the graham cracker “dust” onto a flat plate. Dip the rim of a martini glass in water or lemon juice and then in the graham crackers.

Fill a cocktail shaker ¾ full with ice and then add all the other ingredients. Shake vigourously and strain into the martini glass. Garnish with lemon twists.

Serve and savor immediately.

See more of the Pastry Princess' dessert recipes!

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