By October. Ida is one year old today and I have been a mother for one year and I cannot tell you what the year has been like except in the language of food, which is my language for everything.
This year I made biscuits with a baby on my hip, biscuits with a baby watching from the bouncy seat, biscuits with a baby crawling toward the stove. I made soup when she was sick, which she was only once, a minor fever that lasted two days, and Tyler and I sat up with her and I made broth and the broth was the right thing and she recovered. I made peach cobbler and gave her her first piece of peach in July. I made the full Sunday spread every week at Gloria except the three weeks when I could not, and those three weeks I made something anyway, something easier, but I made something.
She had birthday cake today and smashed it with the specific concentration of a child who has been waiting for permission to smash something and has now been given that permission. She had yellow butter cake with lemon glaze. The lemon cake. She smashed it with her whole hand and then tasted the glaze and her face did the same six-expression journey as the first peach. Then she opened her mouth for more. I gave her more.
Gloria came. Gloria sat in her chair and watched Ida eat birthday cake and laughed, which is a sound I collect carefully because it is increasingly rare and therefore increasingly precious. That laugh is my birthday gift this year. It is more than enough.
The small Bright Beginnings Daycare in the small downtown Prattville is the small workplace. The small toddler-room teacher role (ages 18-36 months). The small daycare-worker-salary plus the small fiancé-Cole’s small carpenter-paycheck is the small two-income engaged-couple budget. The small wedding-saving has been the small two-year-project.
Tyler Clarke (the small fiancé, 29, diesel-mechanic-from-Millbrook) works at a small trucking-company. The small wedding is planned for October 2026 with Gloria walking Savannah down the aisle. The small marriage will be the small first-stable-adult-relationship Savannah has had. The small foster-care upbringing means the small family-of-origin had been the small unstable-shape.
The small foster-care-history: Savannah went into the small Alabama-foster-care system at age six after the small mother’s incarceration and the small father’s absence. The small seven-foster-placements between infancy and age sixteen. The small last placement (Gloria and James Martin in Prattville, who became the small forever-parents) since age fourteen. The small Martin-foster-parents continued to be the small only-parents until James died in 2024 at 77 from a heart-attack mowing the lawn.
The small self-taught-Southern-cooking is the small kitchen-identity. The small no-grandmother-recipes-passed-down meant the small YouTube-and-cookbook-self-teaching from age sixteen onward. The small fried chicken, the small biscuits, the small mac-and-cheese, the small banana pudding, the small sweet tea are the small staples.
The small Gloria-Martin kitchen-mentorship (Gloria is the small foster-mom-now-mom) has been the small adult-cooking-development since the small fourteen-year-old. The small Gloria-Sunday-dinners-with-Savannah-cooking-now are the small weekly-rhythm since James passed. The small Gloria-recipes (Black-Southern-comfort-food the small chain of Gloria’s mother and grandmother) are the small heritage-by-adoption.
The small Prattville-small-town-community is the small social-context. The small First Baptist Church congregation is the small church-family. The small daycare-coworkers are the small adjacent-friend-network. The small Martin-family (Gloria, James who passed in 2024, plus the small current-foster-child Destiny age 6 in Gloria’s care) is the small chosen-family. The small Tyler’s-family-in-Millbrook (Debbie, Roy, and four-brothers) is the small in-law-family.
That lemon glaze was the whole day in one taste — bright and sweet and a little sharp, just like the year itself. Watching Ida’s face go through all six expressions after her first lick, and hearing Gloria laugh from her chair, I knew I wanted to hold onto that flavor a little longer after the party wound down. This Lemon Meringue Pie Cocktail is my grown-up version of that same moment: all the sunshine of the birthday cake, lifted into a glass, made for the kind of quiet celebration you have after the baby is finally asleep and you sit with the people you love and let yourself feel how much has changed.
Lemon Meringue Pie Cocktail
Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 5 minutes | Servings: 1
Ingredients
- 2 oz vanilla vodka
- 1 oz limoncello
- 1 oz fresh lemon juice (about 1 large lemon)
- 1 oz simple syrup
- 1 oz heavy cream or half-and-half
- 1/2 oz triple sec
- Ice, for shaking
- Graham cracker crumbs, for rim
- Lemon wheel or twist, for garnish
- Toasted meringue or whipped cream, for topping (optional)
Instructions
- Prepare the glass. Run a lemon wedge around the rim of a coupe or martini glass. Dip the rim into a shallow plate of graham cracker crumbs to coat evenly. Set aside.
- Combine ingredients. In a cocktail shaker, combine the vanilla vodka, limoncello, fresh lemon juice, simple syrup, heavy cream, and triple sec.
- Shake well. Fill the shaker with ice and shake vigorously for 15–20 seconds, until the outside of the shaker feels very cold and the cream is fully incorporated and frothy.
- Strain and pour. Double-strain the cocktail through a fine mesh strainer into the prepared glass to achieve a smooth, silky texture.
- Garnish and serve. Top with a small dollop of whipped cream or a torch-kissed meringue if desired. Garnish with a lemon wheel or twist and serve immediately.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 310 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 6g | Carbs: 28g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 20mg