Cherry Clafoutis

Bastille Day was last week. Cherries have been in season for a couple of weeks now. Recipes for Cherry Clafoutis have recently been posted by more than a handful of other talented food bloggers out there. And I bought a new cherry pitter months ago. What all this means is that I am somewhat late to the game of making this rustic French dessert. But better late than never or so the pragmatists in the world might say. However, those of us who are slightly more idealistic might lament over lost time, lost opportunities, thinking instead that "our biggest regrets are not for the things we have done but for the things we haven't done." So in my, at times, idealistic world to have lived such a long life without having Cherry Clafoutis as a part of it is to have lived a life with a little bit of regret. 

Originating in the Limousin region of France sometime during the 19th century, a clafloutis has traditionally been made with black cherries. However, they have also been made with apricots, apples, blackberries, pears, plums, and even cranberries. Skewing more to the traditional side, choosing the fruit for the clafoutis wasn't really a choice at all. It could only be cherries. At the farmer's markets and grocery stores this year, I have never seen more beautiful, nor tasted sweeter cherries. 

Sometimes described as a cross between a custard and a pancake, a clafoutis can be served as a dessert or as an indulgent breakfast. While best served warm, the clafoutis can also be served at room temperature. If I could recapture some of 'my life without Cherry Clafoutis', I would go back and eat it for breakfast on my birthday, for breakfast on Christmas, for breakfast on the day of the summer solstice, for dessert on the Fourth of July, for dessert after a dinner party having a French inspired meal, and on any other day I had a craving for it or wanted to make someone else's day memorable. 

Cherry clafoutis, where have you been all my life?

If you live long enough, the things you acquire 'new' become things considered 'vintage'. As I was searching for the brand new cherry pitter I had bought some months back, I could only find the one that exemplified vintage. Had I not ultimately found the newer, improved cherry pitter my enthusiasm for making the Cherry Clafoutis may have been a tad curbed. However, I suppose the tool itself does not matter as much as one's desire for either a hurried or unhurried life. 

As I was (laboring over) pitting the cherries, I understood why the French did not pit their cherries during the 19th century. The early clafoutis actually contained the pits of the cherries as they contained one of the same active chemicals found in almond extract. Baking the pits released this flavor into the clafoutis. Rather than risk anyone from swallowing or choking on a cherry pit, I thought there was a better way to infuse some almond flavor in the 21st century. The choices were adding almond extract or using almond meal flour. Looking for a more subtle taste of almond, I altered the recipe I had found and used equal amounts of all-purpose and almond meal flour instead of using all all-purpose flour. 

Some recipes for clafoutis call for mixing all of the ingredients by hand. This one called for using both a mixer and a whisk. For ease and convenience I used a standing mixer with a whisk attachment, but the base batter could be assembled using a hand mixer. A whisk worked perfectly to whip the egg whites just until they became light and foamy.

The pitted cherries are mixed with 1/3 cup granulated sugar and 1/2 teaspoon of lemon zest.

After the baking dish is buttered and sugared it is placed in the preheated oven for 4 to 5 minutes. Upon removing from the oven, the cherry mixture is immediately spread evenly in a single layer. Once the batter is poured, the baking dish is returned to the oven. The clafoutis bakes for 30 to 35 minutes or until the edges are browned and it is set in the center.

The finishing touch to the warm clafoutis is dusting it with confectionary sugar.

The clafoutis is an example of both rustic simplicity and decadence. How can something simultaneously be at both ends of a spectrum you might wonder? You will have the answer to that question after you first take the cherry clafoutis in with your eyes and then take your first bite. If you were wondering what to do with the abundance of cherries you have, a cherry clafoutis couldn't be any easier to make (pitting the cherries isn't all that bad), and will wow your family and friends. 

Recipe

Cherry Clafoutis (inspired by a Williams-Sonoma recipe)

Ingredients

4 large eggs, room temperature and separated

2/3 cup granulated sugar, divided

3 Tablespoons all-purpose

3 Tablespoons almond meal flour

2 teaspoons vanilla

1 cup heavy cream

1/2 teaspoon sea salt

1 1/2 pounds fresh cherries, pitted (or 1 1/4 pounds frozen cherries, thawed and drained)

1/2 teaspoon lemon zest

Confectionary sugar for dusting

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Butter and sugar a 10 inch round or 9 x 12 inch baking dish and set aside.

2. In a standing mixer with a whisk attachment combine egg yolks and 1/3 cup of the sugar. Beat on medium-high until ribbons form (about 4-6 minutes).

3. Add flours, vanilla and cream. Reduce speed to low and beat until completely blended (stopping mixer to occasionally scrape down sides of the bowl).

4. In a separate bowl, whisk together eggs and salt for about 30 seconds or until light and foamy.

5. Add egg whites to batter and beat with mixer on low until fully incorporated (1-2 minutes).

6. In a medium sized bowl, stil together cherries, remaining 1/3 cup sugar and lemon zest.

7. Place prepared baking dish in oven for 4-5 minutes.

8. Remove baking dish from oven, pour in cherries and then top with batter. Return to oven and bake 30-35 minutes or until clafoutis browned at the edges and is set in the middle. Note: Size of baking dish will influence baking time.

9. Sift confectionary sugar over top of clafoutis and serve.

Optional: Serve with vanilla or pistachio ice cream.

Two things happened this past week causing me to reflect on the importance and power of gratitude. The first was receiving an unexpected, incredibly thoughtful gift from a friend. The second was an email from another friend containing unexpected words of appreciation. Both brought me great joy and both offered me opportunities to show my appreciation for their kindnesses, for their friendship.

Gratitude has been defined as the quality of being thankful, the readiness to show appreciation for and to return kindness. Robert Emmons, a noted expert on gratitude, sees it as a relationship-strengthening emotion as it requires us to recognize how the roles support and affirmation impacts the feelings of closeness and commitment we have for friends and/or partners. In support of this belief, author Ellen Goodman once said 'We are told that people stay in love because of chemistry, or because they remain intrigued with each other, because of many kindnesses, because of luck. But part of it has got to be forgiveness and gratefulness." Beyond strengthening relationships gratitude can bring happiness; foster creativity; enhance feelings of optimism, joy, hope and enthusiasm; increase resiliency; and, promote forgiveness.

Have you watched as a child or friend receives little back from those they show love, thoughtfulness and generosity? Have you ever noticed how you show gratitude to those you want to keep close in your life differs significantly from those you want to maintain distance? Sometimes it is easier to see this in others than it is in ourselves. 

In this age of social media and hurried lives, we can sometimes lose sight of the importance the ways in which our actions and words we choose to show gratitude can have. Even if there is an element of gratitude present, sincerity and snarkiness sound and feel very different. Our reactions to the receipt of card; a homemade or store bought confection; an unexpected or celebratory gift; a favor; or even just a short note expressing support, have the power to affect the quality of not just our relationships with others, but our own lives. Our words and actions reveal much of what resides in our hearts. 

Four Bean Baked Beans

We are a creature of habit culture particularly when food is involved. Food traditions aren't only reserved for the holidays, summer barbecues also have their own usual suspect dishes. Beyond all things grilled, there is the potato salad, the cheesy potato casseroles, the grilled corn on the cob, the cole slaw, and last but not least, THE baked beans. Whether they are the doctored-up versions using cans of Campbell's beans or ones made from various types of beans soaked overnight, everyone seems to have their favorite go-to baked bean recipe. In some families changing or replacing the 'traditional' baked beans would be akin to committing a heinous crime, however, mine isn't one of them. Mostly because the baked beans I have made in the past have been good, but I wouldn't exactly say they were great to the point of being so sacred a gathering would be ruined if they weren't served.

So when one of my very best friends mentioned a friend of hers had a baked bean recipe guaranteed to get rave reviews, I not only wanted it, I wanted to believe this rather audacious claim. Could baked beans made with four different kinds of beans (no soaking required), a simple sauce of vinegar, ketchup and brown sugar, sautéed onions and bacon possibly be one worthy of being labeled as great, as one everyone goes gaga over?  When my friend shares that such and such a movie or such and such a book was either amazing or just okay, my opinion rarely, if ever, has differed from hers. So I went into making these baked beans having the faith they would live up to the claim of guaranteed' 'rave review' accolades. The expectation bar for these beans was set really high.

While making these beans I texted her to say if they tasted just half as good as they looked, they undoubtedly would be beyond amazing. They were winning the baked bean beauty contest, but would they would win taste contest? And, did they? This question deserves more than the simple 'yes or no' answer. Let's just say that no matter how attached you might be to your treasured baked bean recipe (the one, without exception, you always serve to your family and friends), these baked beans will be the reason why you will consciously uncouple from it and not look back with any regrets. Without exception, the next time you invite friends over for a barbecue or are asked to bring a side dish to a gathering, you will get the evil eye if these baked beans aren't the ones you make or bring.

Isn't almost everything better with bacon (although I have yet to jump on bacon in ice cream bandwagon)? A pound of thickly sliced hickory or applewood smoked bacon cooked to perfection adds an incredible depth of flavor to these baked beans. If there was ever a baked bean recipe worthy of falling under the Twitter hashtag #baconlove, this would be the one.

Chopped onions sautéed in the drippings from the bacon add just the right amount of sweetness to the beans. Choose the largest Vidalia or yellow onion you can find.

When looking at the four kinds of canned beans in the list of ingredients, I thought 'hmmm, garbanzo beans, really?'. Well, whoever put this combination of beans together knew what they were doing. The texture created by the baked beans, northern beans, black beans and yes, the garbanzo beans is unlike any I had ever tasted before.

With the exception of the can of baked beans, the northern beans, black beans and garbanzo beans are all drained and rinsed.

The beans, bacon and onion are all mixed together in a medium to large sized Dutch oven or baking pot (one having a tight fitting lid). If you ever needed a reason to splurge (and I mean really splurge) consider buying a copper pot for no other reason than to make these baked beans in them.

The sauce or dressing for the beans is made with apple cider vinegar, ketchup and brown sugar. The recipe didn't specify light or dark brown sugar so I made the decision to use dark brown sugar as it has a slightly more complex, higher molasses flavor than light brown sugar. Initially it seemed this would not be enough sauce for all of these beans, but there could not be a more perfect balance of sauce to beans ratio in this recipe.

The beans are baked in preheated 350 degree oven in a covered pan for an hour. Once removed from the oven the beans need to rest for approximately ten minutes before serving. This resting period gives the sauce in the beans enough time to thicken just a little more.

After I tasted these baked beans, I texted my friend again and simply said 'I am in bean heaven'. The smokiness of the bacon, the crunch and creamy texture of the beans, the hint of molasses from the dark brown sugar, the tartness form the the apple cider vinegar and ketchup, and the sweetness of the sautéed onions had me swooning. Seriously, these may be most flavorful baked beans you will ever eat.

Try as best as you can to humbly accept all of the rave reviews you will be getting when you serve these baked beans. There is plenty of summer left, more than enough time for these baked beans to become one of the expected side dishes at your summer barbecues or gatherings. Once you serve them, you really will guilty of committing the most heinous of all crimes if they fail to make a regular appearance on your table.

In addition to books and movies (and oh yes, martinis and margaritas), my very best friend and I now have baked beans added to the list of the things we share the same opinion on. As thankful as I am to her for passing this recipe on to me, I am even more thankful to her friend.

Recipe
Four Bean Baked Beans (inspired by Sandi Claeson's wicked baked bean recipe)

Ingredients
1 pound of thick sliced bacon (applewood or hickory smoked) - drippings reserved
1 large vidalia or yellow onion, chopped
1 large (28 ounces) can of baked beans (do not drain) (suggest Bush's Original baked beans)
1 can (15 ounces) can of black beans, drained and rinsed
1 can (16 ounces) can of garbanzo beans, drained and rinsed
1 can (15.8 ounces) can of northern white beans, drained and rinsed
1/4 cup apple cider vinegar
3/4 cup ketchup (suggest Heinz)
3/4 cup firmly packed dark brown sugar (or can use light brown sugar)

Directions
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2. Brown bacon (but not too crisp). Drain on paper towels. When cool, cut or break into small bite sized pieces.
3. Sauté onions in the bacon grease until softened (about 2-3 minutes). Drain and set aside.
4. Mix together baked beans, black beans, garbanzo beans and northern white beans. Stir in chopped bacon and sautéed onions.
5. Mix together apple cider vinegar, ketchup and brown sugar. Stir into bean mixture.
6. Transfer baked bean mixture into a Dutch Oven or baking pan (one with a lid)
7. Bake covered for one hour.
8. Remove from oven, allow to sit for 5 to 10 minutes before serving (wait time allows for additional thickening).
9. Serve and savor.

Lime Meltaways

I genuinely thought weather forecasters would not utter the words 'polar vortex' again until at least January, and if we were really lucky, those dreaded words wouldn't be heard at all next winter. Well I was wrong. It is mid-July and here in the midwest we are being told to brace ourselves for a 'polar vortex' in the week ahead. Seriously? When did temperatures with highs in the 70s and lows in the 50s become labeled as a summer 'polar vortex'? Back in the day we used to simply call it 'unseasonably chilly weather' (a bit non-meteoroloigcally technical but fairly descriptive). Growing up in a house without air-conditioning, 'unseasonably chilly weather' meant nights of great sleeping, just like those experienced on Wisconsin family summer vacations.

If a 'polar vortex' is coming, all I can say is 'bring it on'. The thought of being able to sleep with the windows open and turning on the oven to bake without feeling guilty or worrying about 'heating' up the house (oh, the things that stay with us from our childhood) are enough to make me feel downright giddy. And having finally found the Lime Meltaway Cookie recipe I was searching for, I am barely able to contain the excitement at the thought of using the oven to my heart's content during an 'unseasonably chilly week' in July. Just keeping my fingers crossed the forecasted weather actually happens. Beyond baking cookies, my growing list of 'want to make sooner than later' recipes includes a portobello mushroom tart, a new baked bean recipe, and a cherry clafoutis.

The search for a lime meltaway cookie recipe actually began years ago. Having bought a small (and on the almost hard to justify ridiculously expensive side) bag of lime meltaway cookies, it was a cookie I had to make. They were different, refreshing and delicious. Only I couldn't find one. Or I should say I couldn't find one that tasted like the ones I remembered. Martha Stewart published a Lime Meltaway Cookie but (dare I say) wouldn't have a chance of winning a throwdown if matched up to the memory of those beautiful pillowy bites of deliciousness I had spent a relatively small, but oh so justifiably worthy, fortune on.

And then one day about a year ago I discovered a recipe that not only lived up to my memory of a citrusy, buttery, melt-in-your-mouth cookie, it managed to exceed it. It came from Kathleen King, creator and owner of the famed Tate's Bake Shop. She shared a Lime Sugar Cookie recipe in her Baking for Friends cookbook, one that was alone worth the cost of the cookbook.

What makes these Lime Meltaways different in flavor than the relatively limited number of lime cookie recipes out there are two ingredients: white rice flour and lime oil (yes, lime oil, not lime extract). The white rice flour adds a 'lightness' to the cookie while the lime extract adds a 'boldness' but not a bitterness. When combined with the lime juice and zest, the lime oil further contributes to the citrusy flavor of these cookies.

White rice flour is readily available in the grocery stores these days however, the lime oil is an ingredient you may only find in a specialty store (my Lime oil came from Sur La Table). I know, I know, recipes with ingredients not easily accessible at the grocery store can be a deal breaker for some. But this is one cookie worth the extra bit of upfront ingredient shopping effort. Who knows, you might someday find yourself in a Lime Meltaway throwdown with either Martha Stewart herself or any of the M.S. clones you know (don't' laugh, we all have them in our lives).

This is one of the easiest cookie doughs to make. Neither sifting nor getting out the standing mixer is required. A whisk to mix the all-purpose flour, white rice flour and salt and a handheld mixer to blend the dough together is all you need. You won't even break a sweat making them.

The cookie dough is divided in half, rolled into logs, wrapped in plastic wrap and refrigerated for two hours (if you refrigerate any longer you may need to let it sit out at least ten minutes so it is workable). Kathleen King's recipe indicated it made 42 cookies. I managed to get 37 cookies from the dough, but could easily see the number of cookies range from 36 to 38 (or less if you are eating the dough as you make them).

The dough is rolled in small balls and placed on a parchment paper lined cookie sheet (spaced only about 1 1/2 inches apart).

Baked in a preheated 350 degree oven for 17-18 minutes or until the bottoms of the cookies are lightly browned, the cookies get their first sprinkle of confectionary sugar while still hot out of the oven and cooling on the cookie sheet. I wouldn't say the tops of my cookies were golden rather they were a very light brown. To test for doneness, the bottoms of the cookies should be beautifully browned.

Once cooled, the cookies receive another coating of confectionary sugar. With the remaining confectionary sugar, either toss them in a paper bag or gently roll them in a small bowl. Both options work.

Maybe because they look like little snowballs or maybe its their citrusy, buttery flavor, literally melt in your mouth texture that makes them a refreshing summer or hot weather climate cookie. Not only would they would be a perfect finishing touch to a seafood or Mexican inspired dinner. they are one of those perfect for snacking cookies served with or without a cup of 'hot' coffee. These Lime Meltaway Cookies are so good I can never justify buying one of those pricey packages of lime cookies ever again, even if they are on sale. And neither should you.

Recipe
Lime Meltaways (inspired by Kathleen King's Lime Sugar Cookie recipe shared in her cookbook Baking for Friends)
Makes 36-40 cookies

Ingredients
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup white rice flour (or can substitute brown rice flour)
1/4 teaspoon sea salt (or can use Kosher salt)
1/2 pound unsalted butter, room temperature
1 cup confectionary sugar, divided 
Grated zest from two limes
2 Tablespoons freshly squeezed lime juice
1 teaspoon lime oil

Directions
1. Whisk together all-purpose flour, rice flour and salt. Set aside.
2. In a medium-large bowl, beat butter and 1/2 cup of the confectionary sugar until well blended (about one minute of mixing time).
3. At low speed, mix in the lime zest, lime juice and lime oil until incorporated.
4. At low speed, mix in flour mixture until well combined.
5. Place dough plastic wrap and roll into a log (or divide dough in half and make two logs).
6. Chill dough until firm, approximately 2 hours.
7. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
8. Cut dough into 36-38 pieces. Roll each piece into a ball and place on a parchment paper lined baking sheet.
9. Bake cookies for 17-18 minutes or until the tops of cookies are golden and bottoms are lightly browned.
10. Sift some of the remaining 1/2 cup confectionary sugar over the hot cookies. Allow to cool to room temperature on the baking sheet.
11. Put all of remaining confectionary sugar in a small brown paper bag. Place two or three cookies in the bag at a time and shake until thoroughly coated with the confectionary sugar. Or sift remaining confectionary sugar over cooled cookies.
12. Store at room temperature in a covered container.
Note: If you are fan of white chocolate, omit using the remaining confectionary sugar. Allow the cookies to cool to room temperature, then dip in melted white chocolate. 

As much as I loved my short Montana vacation, it took me a week to get back into my workout routine (was a slacker and worked out only three days last week). My excuse was that I needed to recuperate from all the physical and emotional energy expended hiking up the Mount Sentinel Trail in Missoula. A trail with eleven switchbacks, a round trip distance of 1.6 miles, an elevation gain of 1,934 ft. on the way up, an average slope of +23% and a maximum slope of +51%. In other words, my definition of a grueling trail. The visual reward for going on this taxing, on a 90 degree day in the middle of the afternoon, hike was the incredible view of the town of Missoula. The personal reward for having the endurance to make it up and down the trail was one I almost didn't get. In spite of my workout regimen for the past five months, the elevation gain, slope and sun the trail almost got the best of me. Actually if were not for the encouragement and patience of my nephew, this was one mountain trail hike I am not certain I would have finished on my own.

After the first two switchbacks I must have said (out loud) 'I can't do this' at least a dozen times. I thought it wise to keep all of my other thoughts to myself as the 'I want to give up' words were annoying enough. In spite of my can't do spirit, another part of me wanted to complete the hike for three reasons: the personal satisfaction one gets from successfully completing a physical challenge (at my age); the desire to create a symbolic lesson for my nephew (i.e., sometimes life is hard, sometimes we have to dig deeper to overcome obstacles); and, I didn't want my much younger sister to call me a 'wimptress' when she heard the story. Even with those compelling reasons, I still kept thinking 'I can't' and my nephew still kept saying 'you can'. It was mostly because of him that 'I did'. 

As it turns out I may have been the one to walk way from this adventure with the most significant takeaways. Those being reminded of what is possible when you surround yourself with people who believe in and encourage you (particularly in times when you are filled with self-doubt); the reaffirmation of the impact those that love and care about you can have on you (even when you are not at your best and bordering on being hard to take); and, lastly, life sometimes really is hard but 'can' gives you a better chance of fully experiencing it than 'can't'. 

Lemon Meringue Tart

My plan was to make a Lemon Meringue Pie. My relatively recent success with making a pie crust has had me obsessing about making pies. Not wanting to be a one pie crust making wonder, the more practice I have the better the chances are that I can be a multiple pie crust making wonder. But I had taken some butter out to make cookies (using a recipe I wasn't able to find but really need to) and rather than have the butter go to waste I thought 'why not make a Lemon Meringue Tart instead', one with a shortbread crust. The pie making would just have to be temporarily delayed along with any gratification I might get from making a pie with a really great crust. 

What is not to love about the velvety, sweet, citrus flavor of a lemon custard (or curd) and a light, creamy, slightly burned, sweet meringue combined in one single confection? Hint: There is only one right, short answer to that question. If you said 'nothing' kudos to you for getting the right, short answer. If you paused and were feeling compelled to give a qualifying answer to the question (like 'nothing unless the lemon custard is just okay and the meringue doesn't have much taste'), kudos to you for getting the right, long answer. But after you make this Lemon Meringue Tart, you will never feel the need to give a long answer to that question again.

Lemon meringue has been a confection around since the 19th century. Some attribute the creation of combining lemon custard with meringue in a pie to Swiss baker Alexander Frehse while others claim Philadelphian chef Elizabeth Coane Goodfellow was responsible. Regardless of who may be the real lemon meringue creator (I shall remain neutral), it wasn't until the mid-20th century that lemon meringue pies/tarts began to take on a life of their own across the country. While I can't help but wonder what took so long for lemon meringue to catch on, I am just thankful I didn't live in that lemon meringue deprived 'beginning of the 19th century to the mid-20th century' time warp.

One of the great things about a Lemon Meringue Tart is that a single piece can be completely satisfying (except maybe for those of you who have an insatiable sweet tooth or an affinity bordering on addiction for lemon meringue). It is probably one of the only desserts on the planet whose sheer beauty cannot tempt me into over indulging (unlike other desserts that have the power to convince me to lose all self-control). If someone ever asked the rhetorical question 'What is enough for you?', my answer would simply be 'one piece of a Lemon Meringue Tart'.

The shortbread crust recipe came from Maury Rubin's Book of Tarts. The master recipe for the shortbread crust provided just the right amount of dough for a nine (9) inch tart pan.

All of the baking directions for the tarts in Rubin's book are for the smaller four (4) inch tarts, so I had to make some baking time decisions. The shortbread crust baked for 18-20 minutes in a pre-heated 375 degree oven. I had checked the tart shell midway through and noticed the sides had fallen slightly. Momentarily I thought maybe I should have made a pie, but after salvaging and tasting the tart shell any second thoughts I may have had quickly disappeared (this is one buttery, delicious shortbread crust). My shortbread crust making takeaway lesson is to decrease the baking temperature to 350 degrees and increase the baking time to 20-25 minutes or until the shell is lightly browned.

The average sized lemon yields approximately three (3) tablespoons of lemon juice. Store this little tidbit away in your memory as it may come in handy the day you find recipe that simply lists the juice of one, two or three lemons as one of the ingredients. My lemons were on the smaller size so I needed to use four of them to get a half-cup of lemon juice. And oh, always remember to zest your lemons before you juice them (another lesson learned after rushing through another recipe once a long time ago).

This lemon custard is perfect balance of creamy, velvety, sweet and tart. I am calling it a custard but it has some of the same qualities as a curd.

The cooked lemon custard is poured into the cooled tart shell. A piece of parchment paper or wax paper is placed on top of the custard and the entire tart is placed in the refrigerator while the meringue is assembled. It is important the custard has cooled before you finish with the meringue. Note: When you remove the wax paper/parchment paper it will pull up some of the custard. Not to worry, you want the top of the custard to be a little rough as it will help the meringue to adhere better.

I couldn't decide whether to make a Swiss meringue (the eggs and sugar are heated on top of double boiler until warm before they are whipped into stiff peaks in a mixer) or a regular meringue. I went with the regular meringue. To ensure my meringue would be smooth and not grainy I used superfine instead of granulated sugar. This meringue is simply whipped at medium-high speed until it is glossy and stiff peaks form.

If you are going for a bit of drama (in presentation), use a pastry bag fitted with a star tip to decorate the top of the lemon custard. If you are going for a rustic, comfort food look, just spread the meringue on the custard using an offset spatula. Whichever meringue finishing decision you make, just make sure the meringue completely covers the lemon custard.

I have never been a fan of using the broiler to 'slightly brown and caramelize' a meringue. If you are, great, simply place the tart under the broiler for 20-60 seconds or until it is golden brown and caramelized in parts. Rather I am a fan of using a propane torch. If you haven't tried this yet, you should. You don't need to spend alot of money on the torches sold cooking stores, the torches they sell in the hardware store work just as well (if not better) and they are usually half the price. 

Refrigerate the Lemon Meringue Tart until ready to serve. This tart is best the day it is made, however, the leftovers (if you have any) are just as delicious the next day. While you may be like me and are only able to eat only one piece on the day you serve it, you might not be able to resist having another piece, even if it is just a sliver, the next day. 

Recipe

Lemon Meringue Tart (inspirations for shortbread crust from Maury Rubin's Book of Tarts and lemon custard filling from foodblogger Yossy Arefi)

Ingredients
Crust
13 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into 13 pieces and softened slightly
1/3 cup confectionary sugar
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 large egg yolk
1 Tablespoon heavy whipping cream

Lemon Custard Filling
1/2 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 cup water
1 1//4 cups granulated sugar 
1/3 cup cornstarch
1/4 teaspoon Kosher salt
4 egg yolks, room temperature
4 Tablespoons unsalted butter
4 teaspoons lemon zest

Meringue
5 large egg whites, room temperature
1 cup superfine or caster sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1/4 teaspoon Kosher salt

Directions
Crust
1. Place confectionary sugar in bowl of a standing mixer fitted with a paddle attachment. Add butter and toss to coat.
2. Cream sugar and butter until sugar is completely blended into butter.
3. Add egg yolk and blend until completely incorporated.
4. Scrape down sides of bowl and mix in half of the flour until dough appears crumbly.
5. Add remaining flour and heavy cream and continue mixing until dough becomes a sticky mass.
6. Shape dough into a disk, wrap with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 2 hours.
7. Lightly flour a surface and roll out dough to fit the tart shell.
8. Transfer and fit dough into tart shell. Freeze for 30 minutes.
9. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Bake for 20-25 minutes or until the tart shell is golden brown.
10. Remove from oven and allow to cool before filling is added.

Lemon Custard Filling
1. Whisk egg yolks in a medium sized bowl and set aside.
2. In a medium saucepan, combine and whisk cornstarch, water, lemon juice, sugar and salt together until no lumps remain in cornstarch.
3. Bring mixture to a boil (stirring frequently). At boiling point, continue to stir constantly for an additional 75 seconds. Mixture will be very thick.
4. Very, very slowly whisk in lemon mixture into egg mixture, stirring constantly (to prevent eggs from curdling). Return mixture to pan and continue to cook over low heat (stirring constantly) for 60 seconds. 
5. Remove from heat and whisk in butter and lemon zest.
6. Pour filling into cooled tart shell. Cover filling with wax paper or parchment paper (this will help meringue adhere later). 
7. Set in refrigerator while preparing meringue.

Meringue
1. In a standing mixer fitted with a whisk, beat eggs until frothy. Slowly add sugar, salt and vanilla and continue beating on medium-high until stiff peaks form.
2. Put meringue in a pastry bag fitted with a star tip and create design of your choice onto meringue filling (or spread using an offset spatula).
3. Using a torch, carefully adjust flame over the meringue until it is golden brown and deeply caramelized in spots. Or place tart under the broiler and bake for 20 to 60 seconds until it is golden brown and deeply caramelized in spots.
4. Remove pie from oven and cool completely in refrigerator before slicing and serving.
Note: Can substitute this meringue with a Swiss Meringue.