Mom had always loved to bake from scratch using fresh ingredients. Having lived her entire life in the fertile green setting of Western New York, she had her pick of seasonal crops to choose from for her flaky, fruit-filled treats. She whipped up Strawberry-Rhubarb Pie using wild rhubarb from our back yard. We picked apples for her Apple Brown Betty from nearby orchards. And grandpa's peach tree provided succulent fruit for Mom's delicious Peach Cobbler.
When a job change for Dad meant a cross-country move to the desert city of Tucson, Arizona, Mom was in a quandary. Peach and apple orchards were nowhere to be found in Southern Arizona, and rhubarb did not grow in sandy back yards. Mom was beginning to fear that she would have to resort to—gasp!—grocery store produce.
Redemption came in the form of a sweet old lady. A short time after we moved into our new home, a considerate neighbor paid us a visit bearing a basket of sour, juicy, yellow ovals. Her tree was heavy with them, she said.
"You have a lemon tree?" Mom asked.
"Oh, sure. Lemons and Valencia oranges. Citrus grows great out here," she informed.
And before you could say "turnover" Mom was in the kitchen experimenting.
It has been over twenty-five years since that kindly neighbor lady delivered those wonderful lemons. Mom now has a gorgeous lemon tree of her own and every year it spills over with tart fruit. And Mom has perfected her Lemon Bar recipe to near-celebrity status. Well, at least in our family circle anyway!
Instructions
