Today I am baking Christmas goodies. A couple of years ago, I found my grandmother's recipe for meringues. Her meringues always turned out beautifully. She filled them with whipped cream, and they were to die for.
The last time I visited her in England was 31 years ago, and upon my request, she made me meringues. More than a few batches. Finally, my mother told her to quit, because my grandparents had dozens of unused egg yolks in the fridge, and I had eaten enough.
Making meringues is an art. This is my third year trying, and I have yet to match the crunchy, fluffy delights I remember from years ago. My grandmother must have had some little trick that she didn't write down. However, I try something a little different each time I attempt them in the hopes that I'll nail it eventually.
Maybe this year...