By Barbara Winters
What state are affairs are we in when we go to the supermarket and willingly, without thought,
purchase powdered lemonade flavored drink mix. Sad. Sad, sad, sad.
The weather, though awfully wet in my sector of the U.S. has turned to spring. We're enjoying all sorts
of spring and summer food and activities. People are so careful about their recipes for cookouts and barbecues, and yet,
they buy glorified Kool-Aid (or maybe real Kool-Aid), as a substitute for lemonade.
Anyone remember real lemonade? You had to juice a lemon. Or two. And when it is just the right
combination of sweet and tart, you can't beat the refreshing taste. It defines summer.
I had my mom's 1942 edition of the Betty Crocker Cook Book, and in it is the best ever lemonade
recipe. I don't remember my mom ever making it, but I have made it many times. I passed that cookbook
to my daughter, who learned to make lemon meringue pie from its recipe. Fortunately I remembered to write down
how to make lemonade before it disappeared forever.
The first time my daughter made lemonade she was about eleven. She had become interested about
what goes on in the kitchen and occasionally surprised us with the product. (More about this in another post.)
I was busy doing some copy editing upstairs and she was in the kitchen, doing what I didn't know.
Soon she came with a glass of ice and opaquely yellow liquid. "Mom, here! I made lemonade!"
I was so proud of her, figuring this out on her own. I took a deep sip of this lemon concoction and tried
to keep my composure as I had a reaction similar to having sipped chlorine bleach and the enamel on my teeth began slowly
to dissolve. "Honey? I finally choked out, "did you have a recipe for this?"
"No! I figured it out!" "How much sugar did you add?" I asked. "Oh, a spoonful."
We learn from our mistakes, I remember my fifth grade teacher, Mrs Stewart telling us.
She made those horribly embarrassing moments of adolescence much better for many of us. It's ok.
We all do it. Do better next time. My daughter was never daunted by the possibility of error. She always
did better next time.
When I had recovered we went downstairs and I had her take a sip herself. "Oh," she said, wincing the lemon face
wince. Then I pulled out Mom's cookbook and we went to work.
Admittedly I don't make lemonade often, but when I do we slurp it up, enjoying the sweet-tart, icy cold goodness
that means summer time.
1 1/2 cups sugar
1 1/4 quarts water
Juice the lemons and put aside.
Cut the rind into 1/2 inch slices, pour sugar over, and let sit for one hour.
Boil water; pour over sugar and lemon rinds.
Cool for 20 minutes.
Stir to dissolve sugar.
Remove rinds, strain reserved juice into the sugar mixture.
Stir well, put into a pitcher and chill. Pour over ice.