Meringue Kisses — The One I Made the Week After Caleb’s Wedding

Wedding day. Saturday, May 17th. Caleb married Miriam. I am going to tell you about it the way I told you about Amber's wedding three years ago — slowly and from the inside.

I woke at five. Hannah was already up. I made coffee. We sat at the kitchen table. We did not talk much. The day was already inside us. We drove to the cultural center at seven. We started the food set-up at seven-thirty. The catering team — me, Hannah, Miriam's sister Rosa from OKC, and three friends of Miriam's — worked through the morning. By eleven the food was held. The room was set. The flowers were placed. Reverend Bear arrived at eleven-thirty. The guests arrived at noon.

The wedding started at twelve-thirty. Twenty-two people in chairs. Caleb stood at the front in his suit. He looked good. He looked steady. The musicians played. Miriam walked down the aisle on the arm of her older son, David. David handed her to Caleb. Caleb took her hand. Reverend Bear began. The vows were short and traditional and personal. Miriam cried. Caleb cried. I cried. Hannah cried. Even Reverend Bear cried, a little, which was unprofessional but understandable. The kiss was long. The applause was loud.

The reception was simple. We ate. The food held. The hog was good. The empanadas were good. The bean bread was good. Miriam's pozole, which she had made for the wedding, was the best pozole I had ever eaten and I told her so. She said: David and I made it together. David grinned. He had been at the kitchen window all day cooking with his mother. He was thirty-two years old and had been cooking with his mother since he was small. He understood the assignment.

Caleb and Miriam danced. The musicians played a slow Cherokee gospel hymn. Caleb led. Miriam followed. They have been dancing in their living room for months. They knew. The dance was the wedding's real moment. Twenty-two people watched. Most of us cried. Terry was there. She watched her younger son dance with his bride. She was eighty-one in three months. She did not say anything. She did not need to. Her face was her face.

The cake was cut. Hannah and I served. Caleb and Miriam fed each other a bite each — a small bite, no smashing. They are mature people. The reception lasted four hours. Caleb and Miriam left at five-thirty in a truck that David had decorated with cans tied to the back. They drove to a cabin in northeastern Oklahoma for two nights. Hannah and I cleaned the cultural center. We drove home in silence. We were tired. We were full. My brother was married. My brother's new wife was my sister.

I did not make these for the wedding — the wedding had the pozole and the hog and Miriam’s cake — but I made them the following Saturday, alone in the kitchen while Hannah was at the garden, because I needed to do something with my hands and something sweet needed to happen in that house. The applause after the kiss is still in my ears. Caleb’s face when Miriam walked down that aisle is still in my eyes. These are small, light, sweet things, and that is exactly what I wanted. I will make them every year now, on or near May 17th, until I cannot.

Meringue Kisses

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 1 hr | Total Time: 1 hr 20 min | Servings: 36 kisses

Ingredients

• 3 large egg whites, at room temperature
• 1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar
• 3/4 cup granulated sugar
• 1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
• Pinch of fine salt

Instructions

1. Preheat — and prep the pan. Heat your oven to 225°F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper and set aside.
2. Start the whites. In a clean, dry bowl, beat the egg whites with cream of tartar and salt on medium speed until soft peaks form, about 2–3 minutes.
3. Add the sugar slowly. With the mixer running on medium-high, add the granulated sugar one tablespoon at a time, waiting about 10 seconds between additions. Continue beating until stiff, glossy peaks form and the sugar is fully dissolved, about 5–6 minutes total. Rub a small amount between your fingers — it should feel completely smooth, not gritty.
4. Add vanilla. Beat in the vanilla extract for another 15 seconds.
5. Pipe or spoon. Transfer the meringue to a piping bag fitted with a star tip, or use two spoons to drop rounded mounds onto the prepared sheets. Space them about 1 inch apart. Each kiss should be roughly 1 to 1 1/2 inches at the base.
6. Bake low and slow. Bake for 1 hour, rotating the pans halfway through, until the kisses are dry to the touch and lift cleanly from the parchment without sticking. They should be white or very lightly ivory — not browned.
7. Cool in the oven. Turn off the oven, prop the door open with a wooden spoon, and let the meringues rest inside for 30 minutes. This prevents cracking from a sudden temperature change.
8. Serve or store. Once fully cool, serve immediately or store in an airtight container at room temperature for up to one week. Keep away from humidity.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 18 | Protein: 0g | Fat: 0g | Carbs: 4g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 8mg