Love pie

Like many Americans, I show my affection and love for others by cooking. My partner, whom I love very much, loves lemon desserts almost as much as he loves me. So, I took it upon myself to make him lemon pie once. Now, this was a spontaneous gesture of culinary affection and so I wasn’t sure if I had all the ingredients at hand. I rummaged through the cupboards and saw that I didn’t have sugar, nor did I have fresh lemons.

Now, normal people would’ve either a) given up or b) gone to the market.

Instead, I pushed forward. I dug through my fridge and found a bottle of concentrated lemon juice – the sort that comes in a squeeze bottle in the shape of a lemon. And rummaging through my cupboard, I discovered a box of Splenda. I decided that this would suffice. I followed the recipe and baked the lemon pie and put in the fridge to set.

Once it was done, it looked lovely – just like the kinds of lemon pies you can buy in the bakery. The lemon curd was pretty – bright yellow from the egg yolks. I cut up slices for the both of us and then I bit into a piece. The cold fooled me into thinking that the pie was good, because it wasn’t. The sour hit and sort of hit me like a tsunami of disgusting. My partner also tried gulping down a piece but also found it hard to stomach the bitter-sour of the lemon curd. He then asked me through a mouthful if I forgot the sugar.

So, moral of the story: don’t substitute concentrated lemon juice with fresh lemon juice (apparently, it’s a lot harsher) and remember to use real sugar and not Splenda. Or just to be on the safe side, if you want lemon pie, just go out and buy some.

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