So, meringues it is. Home early from work, I quickly put together dinner (charred some tomatoes in a hot skillet; chopped them; tossed them with red onion slices, chopped rosemary, coarse salt, and a bit of olive oil; let it sit while cooking pasta; tossed the pasta and uncooked sauce together with a bit of feta; served with a salad), then set to work on making meringue cookies while waiting for Conrad to come home.
The recipe comes from an Emily Luchetti cookbook, Stars Desserts. It's one of the bibles in my kitchen. I searched high and low for it in hardcover, and I'm using it enough to have to take it for rebinding one day, I think. The chocolate meringue cookie recipe is a simple one requiring exactly the 6 egg whites I had on hand. So, cookies it was - rather than the cake I thought I might do - and a batch of imperfect but delicious chocolatey blobs sit on my counter. I hope the humidity lately will not affect them adversely, else Conrad will be taking in to work tomorrow a collection of tasty chocolatey crumbs that resemble this:
I don't care to discuss the Valentine's Day Meringue Massacre, however. Read for yourself.
Should I pack tonight, I wonder?
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