Monthly Archives: April 2011

Lemon Cream Bars

When I saw this recipe featured on Tasty Kitchen, I immediately decided to make it. I had committed to bringing a treat to a Women’s Ministry event at my church last Friday, and this seemed like a pretty easy little number.

As soon as I started baking it, my husband looked at me happily. “Oooh, you’ve made this before, right? These are those great lemon bars!”

Suddenly, strange half-formed memories started emerging. Had I made these before? After ruminating for days, seeing a hypnotist and a psychotherapist and undergoing memory revitalization at a clinic in Tibet, I have finally reached the conclusion that I simply can’t remember! It’s rare that a cooking memory could turn so foggy–I tend to remember everything I make in mouth-watering detail. However, all I can conjure up regarding these bars is an undefined sense of deja vu.

But why are we wasting time talking about my early onset of memory loss? The point is–this is a VERY easy dessert to whip up. It takes very little time to get into the oven, and the tanginess of the lemon juice and crumbly texture of the streusel combine to make a lovely little treat. Plus, the ingredients are all things I tend to have in the pantry, so if I’m in a dessert bind, I know I can turn to these.

Ingredients

(Makes 20 bars)

1 14 oz can sweetened condensed milk

1/2 cup lemon juice (about 2 1/2 lemons)

1 1/2 cups flour

1 cup oats

1 cup brown sugar

2/3 cup butter, melted (10.6 TBS)

1 tsp baking powder

1 pinch salt

First things first: preheat the oven to 350 F and assemble the ingredients.

Now it’s time to squeeze the lemons–fresh lemon juice is always best, especially when it’s such a central flavor in the end product.

I had a papercut under my fingernail, so I enlisted my husband to squeeze them for me.

Thanks, babes.

There wasn’t quite enough lemon juice in 2 lemons, so I broke my own rule about fresh lemon juice and supplemented with this little bottle.

What’s the point of making a rule if you don’t break it yourself 5 seconds after declaring it to the world?

I’m glad you feel the same way.

Next up: mix the lemon juice and condensed milk with a whisk or fork until they’re nicely combined. You can’t tell in this picture, but I spilled about half the mixture on the counter due to the violence of my whipping technique. Then I licked it off the counter and called myself Blessed.

So please use a larger bowl than the one pictured.

Set it aside.

Mix the remaining ingredients to form the streusel.

Gratuitous shot of pouring in the liquid butter:

This stuff is so tasty just as it is. I munched on it as I mixed.

Next time I’ll make a little extra and sprinkle some into my yoghurt.

Press half the streusel into a lightly greased 9×13 inch baking dish, creating an even layer.

If you can remember to save the paper wrappers from the butter you melted earlier, you can use them to grease the pan quite nicely. I (of course) forgot and threw them away, so I resorted to some baking spray.

Pour the lemon/condensed milk mixture over top of the streusel . . .

. . . and spread it out evenly with the back of a spoon.

Sprinkle the rest of the streusel evenly over top.

Bake that baby for 25-30 minutes.

There it is, fresh out of the oven.

Don’t try to taste or cut into now, or you will leave a path of destruction in your wake. Cool the bars completely! Exercise your patience.

The rewards will be worth it.

If you don’t mean to consume the bars immediately, store them in the refrigerator–I should add that they’re good warm, room-temperature, or chilled and straight out of the fridge. Yes, I had them all 3 ways.

I was a little afraid that the crumbly streusel would result in a bar that would completely fall apart upon contact with my human hand.

(As opposed to the robot hand that I keep in the drawer, of course.)

So I was obliged to test my theory.

A couple times.

The bars held up quite well!

Aren’t you glad I’m here to figure these things out in advance for you?

To troubleshoot, so to speak?

So am I.

Click here for printer-friendly version: Lemon Cream Bars

I'm not not a baker

Once, many years ago, my boss was sharing his guidelines for hiring or not hiring an interview candidate. There was the common sense stuff such as: Are they dressed professionally? Are they articulate in their answers? Have they ever left a job on bad terms before? But for some reason, the item he really chose to harp on was the use of double negatives. “If they use a double negative, don’t hire them!” he yelled. He repeated this nugget of information at least a dozen million times over my next 3 years of employment. It’s like he couldn’t let it go. He was a man obsessed. So I guess I’m giving up my chances of ever being hired again by entitling this post: I’m not not a baker.

Yes, it’s a double negative.

But it expresses a terrifying truth.

After I recently shared a recipe for some delectable cookies, my blogging friend from The Pajama Chef (Sarah) made a comment saying (and I paraphrase) ‘You always say you’re not a baker, and yet what does this prove?’

Dang it, she’s right! I thought to myself. I can’t really say I don’t bake anymore. Because I just baked, and told the world about it.

After these cookies . . . these cookies . . . these bars . . . this quickbread . . . this beer bread . . . these mini pumpkin muffins . . . this pie . . . I can no longer state “I don’t bake.”

Because: I bake.

So I am not not a baker anymore.

I have graduated myself to ‘novice baker.’

It’s a frightening move for me, and now I feel like I have a huge target on my back. Soon, they’ll discover you understand nothing about the science of baking, my insecurities warned me. You’ll be called out as a fraud!

Though who exactly are ‘they’? My insecurities never bothered to specify.

This is my topmost life fear, by the way: to be uncovered as a scamming shamming fraudulent human girl. Throughout my high marks in high school and college, the fear that constantly dogged me was: They’re bound to discover soon that I’m not actually smart, but just good at faking it. They’re bound to find out that I don’t actually measure up. That my ‘intelligence’ is just a sham. That I’m a phony! A fraud! A failure! The fact that I aced every class was just a fluke. Soon, the truth would be revealed!

So I hope that by calling myself a ‘novice baker’ you don’t think I’m giving myself airs. Because I in no way pretend or claim to have discovered the perfect chocolate chip cookie! And isn’t that the aim of every real baker out there? I’d better get started–I’m way behind on this mission.

Note: my husband is convinced he’s discovered the perfect chocolate chip cookie–you can tell by the look on his face that he feels he’s arrived. I, however, am firmly convinced that further scientific experimentation must take place. Methods for wiping the smug expression off his face may include but are not limited to: tickling, spanking, singing a small operetta at the top of my lungs, and eating all his cookie dough before it makes it to the oven.

What can I say. I love that guy, even if he’s dead wrong.

Progress reports must be posted soon.

Love,

The Non-non-bakerperson

P.S. Lemon Cream Bar recipe tomorrow, Lemon Crinkle Cookies later this week!