I've been on a bit of a pie making kick for the last month. I'd promised a couple, one to a graduating student and one to someone who had done me a favor. Then decided I wanted to make some for myself. So I did.
There was an aborted attempt at a cream pie. (I did something wrong with that one and pitched it. Out of practice, most likely.) Then there was strawberry rhubarb, followed by chocolate. Tonight I felt like a lemon pie that my grandmother used to make. Chocolate and lemon pies are linked in my mind because she usually made them available on the same night when cooking for rotary meetings.
I'd made a lemon pie before, but it's been a long time. I couldn't remember if it was a pudding pie. Jello didn't seem right, but was it really pudding? I called my mom, and she seemed low on details too, although she steered me toward pudding. I ended up choosing a pudding that you cook rather than the instant variety. While it took some time stirring it before I became convinced that this was indeed what I wanted to make, eventually the color and smell told me that this was it.
And the taste too, of course. How refreshing on a hot summer's day.