Meringue Shells with Lemon Curd

Easter. I drove Lourdes to the Easter Vigil on Saturday — which goes from nine PM to past midnight. She does the whole thing. I do most of it. Easter Sunday lunch — pancit, lumpia, pork sinigang, an Easter ham with pineapple. The American holiday food on the Filipino table. The fusion is the family.

Lourdes is 75. She is slower. She still cooks. She still tells me to find a husband even though I have one. Joseph called Saturday. He told me Lourdes calls him every day. He answers every day. The pattern has held for 7 years.

I made lumpia Saturday. Sixty rolls. I delivered some to Lourdes. The rest went into the freezer for the week.

I skipped the blog this week. Some weeks the kitchen is enough.

I read for forty minutes before sleep. The reading was the small surrender. The surrender was the rest.

A reader from New Jersey wrote in about her grandmother's adobo, which used pineapple. I had never heard of pineapple in adobo. I tried it. It was strange. It was also good. The strange and the good are not opposites.

The Filipino Community newsletter announced a fundraiser for typhoon relief in Samar. I committed to making three hundred lumpia. The number is the number. The number has always been the number. Three hundred is what I make. The math has stopped surprising me.

Angela texted me a photo of the kids. I texted back a heart. The exchange took thirty seconds. The thirty seconds was the keeping.

I made tea late at night. The tea was the small comfort. The comfort was the marker.

The break room had cake Tuesday. Someone's birthday. We ate the cake. We did not ask whose birthday. The cake was the cake.

I took a walk on the coastal trail Saturday. The light was good. The body was tired but moving.

I drove the Glenn Highway out to Eklutna on Saturday. The mountains were the mountains. The lake was the lake. The body needed the open road. The open road did its work.

I made coffee at six AM. The coffee was the start. The start was always the same.

Auntie Norma called Sunday to ask if I had a recipe for a particular merienda from Iloilo. I did not. I said I would ask Lourdes. I asked Lourdes. Lourdes had it. The chain.

The grocery store had no calamansi. I substituted lime. The substitution was acceptable. The acceptable is the working version of perfect.

The neighbors invited us over for a small dinner Thursday. They are an Iñupiaq family — Aana and her grandson Joe. We ate caribou stew and rice. I brought lumpia. The kitchens of Anchorage have always been the small UN. The food is the proof.

I sat on the balcony in the cold for ten minutes Sunday night with a cup of broth in my hands. The cold was the cold. The broth was the broth. The body held both.

I read a chapter of a novel before bed each night this week. The novel was about a Filipina nurse in California. The novel was good. The novel was, in some way, my own life adjacent.

I had a long phone call with Dr. Reeves on Wednesday. We talked about pacing and rest and the way the body keeps a log of what it has carried. Dr. Reeves said, "Grace. The body remembers. The mind forgets. The cooking is the bridge." I wrote the line down. The line is now on a sticky note above the kitchen sink.

The Filipino Community newsletter announced the Saturday gathering. I will be on lumpia duty. I am always on lumpia duty.

The Easter table was already full — lumpia still warm from Saturday, the pork sinigang, the ham with its pineapple, the pancit piled in Lourdes’ good bowl — and I still wanted something light and bright for the end of it, something that felt like the long vigil was finally over and the day had come. Meringue shells are patient work, which felt right for a week that asked for patience. You whip the egg whites, you wait, you trust the oven, and what comes out is something that holds its shape without being heavy — which is exactly what I was going for.

Prep Time: 25 min | Cook Time: 1 hr 15 min | Total Time: 1 hr 40 min (plus cooling) | Servings: 8

Ingredients

For the meringue shells:
4 large egg whites, room temperature
1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar
1 cup superfine sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon white vinegar
For the lemon curd:
4 large egg yolks
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/3 cup fresh lemon juice (about 2–3 lemons)
1 tablespoon lemon zest
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into pieces
To serve:
Fresh berries or sliced strawberries (optional)
Whipped cream (optional)

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Preheat oven to 225°F. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper. Using a 3-inch round cookie cutter or the bottom of a glass, lightly trace 8 circles on the parchment as guides, then flip the paper so the pencil side faces down.
Whip the egg whites. In a clean, grease-free bowl, beat egg whites and cream of tartar with an electric mixer on medium speed until foamy, about 2 minutes. Increase speed to medium-high and beat until soft peaks form.
Add sugar gradually. With the mixer running, add superfine sugar one tablespoon at a time, beating for about 30 seconds between additions. Once all the sugar is incorporated, add vanilla and vinegar and beat on high until the meringue is stiff, glossy, and the sugar is fully dissolved, about 4–5 minutes. Rub a little between your fingers — it should feel smooth, not gritty.
Shape the shells. Spoon or pipe the meringue onto the traced circles, building up the edges slightly to form a shallow cup shape with a well in the center for filling.
Bake low and slow. Bake for 1 hour to 1 hour 15 minutes, until the shells are dry and crisp to the touch and lift cleanly from the parchment. Turn off the oven and leave the shells inside with the door cracked open for at least 1 hour, or until completely cool. Do not rush this step.
Make the lemon curd. While the shells cool, whisk together egg yolks, sugar, lemon juice, and lemon zest in a small saucepan. Cook over medium-low heat, stirring constantly, until the mixture thickens and coats the back of a spoon, about 8–10 minutes. Do not let it boil. Remove from heat and stir in the butter one piece at a time until smooth. Transfer to a bowl, press plastic wrap directly onto the surface, and refrigerate until set, at least 1 hour.
Fill and serve. Spoon a generous tablespoon or two of lemon curd into each meringue shell just before serving. Top with fresh berries or a small dollop of whipped cream if desired. Fill no more than 30 minutes before serving to keep the shells crisp.

Nutrition (per serving)

Meringue Shells with Lemon Curd — The Easter Table Always Has One More Thing on It