Lemon Bars

Oh, no. It was coming up again, word vomit... no, wait a minute...

                        -- Cady

Editor's Note: Has anyone else noticed that I apparently only make tan or yellow food?

The Gaggle's main objection to these lemon bars was that they caused loose bowels. But Dorian and Miss Marple are whiners, so what are ya' gonna do? Personally I didn't experience this problem. My mother's genetics and a diet based mostly on sucrose have left me rather impervious to the dangers of my own cooking. So if you eat junk food and like lemons, this recipe is very close to perfection, but if you have a delicate gastrointestinal system or eat vegetables, this recipe is apparently like firing a cannon through your colon. Also Miss Marple threw up or something.

I found this recipe on a food porn site foodgawker. I am immensely amused when any food blog takes a recipe from another food blog because it seems vaguely parasitic and I find recursion inexplicably hysterical. I've been on a lemon kick for a while now, so lemon bars seemed like a good idea.

I like custards and curds, so the perfect lemon bars need a high lemon to cookie ratio, especially since said cookie tends to be fairly uninspired. This recipe caught my eye, but I still made a double batch of filling and halved the cookie because I am incapable of leaving a recipe alone.

Doubling the filling means juicing a few lemons.

And breaking a handful of eggs.

That's something like three tablespoons of lemon zest on top. Also, I didn't tell Miss Marple at the time, but doubling this recipe means there are six cups of sugar in the filling. Don't judge me.

I would also like to say that these lemons sucked. They were small and stubborn, refusing to yield juice. I microwaved them, rolled them across the counter and used an actual juicer, but it still took twelve lemons (the photo above does not contain all the lemons I used) to get less than one cup of juice.

What a blurry photo...

In a typical miscalculation, I vastly underestimated how much filling this would generate. I used a deep pie dish and filled it to the brim, but still had enough filling left over for five ramekins. I have never claimed to be good at calculating volume.

This would be a great place to have photos of the finished product, cut and dusted with powdered sugar. Those photos do not exist. Due to my gastrointestinal immunity, I ended up eating essentially all of this on my own. Once that became clear, I stopped cutting slices and just ate from the dish. If that conjures an image of me crouching in a dimly lit corner, cramming forkfuls of lemon bar into my mouth before Miss Marple enters the room with an exasperated "For God's sake!" then I must admit you, dear reader, know me too well.

Your Fearless Leader:
This was very close to the perfect lemon bar. It was sweet, not tart. The crust was a thin afterthought. Any problems with the recipe are probably due to my own meddling with proportions. I will make these again, but not until I get an electric juicer.

The Gaggle:
As far as flavor went, the lemon bars were pretty good. Rather tangy, a good consistency to the lemon filling. I do wish the crust had been a bit better, but Richard’s irrational hatred for it means he’s disinclined to try at all. It could have used some powdered sugar on top, but eh…what can you do? However, the true measure of the lemon bars came later. Within an hour, shooting pains were emanating from my stomach, somehow managing to radiate into my back. Two hours after consumption found me worshipping the porcelain god as my beleaguered stomach tried desperately to give the lemon bars back. Attempts to summon Richard to take them were unsuccessful, as were rather pathetic pleas for medicine and water. Overall, I give the lemon bars a D- (the “D” stands for demonic).
    -- Miss Marple

These lemon bars were...an orgiastic combination of sweet and sour. They were probably the most flavorful lemon bars I have ever consumed, and that is a broad category. In addition to this, they came out a lovely sunshine yellow. Since dessert is 60% beauty, 40% content, this was exceedingly important to me. Although I didn't have them with powdered sugar, it would have been a lovely addition. Overall, probably my second favorite dessert produced here so far, behind creme brulee. Two gluttonous thumbs up.
    -- Dorian