French Yogurt Cake
I knew the best therapy for my cold would be to grate lemon rind into a mound of sugar, then work it with my fingers, releasing the oil, until the mound felt damp and sticky.
And even though the cake did not rise (like it should have), I felt a bit inflated. Oh, this smells so good, like lemon candies, lemonade...The house was perfumed with lemon.
"How would you make lemonade at the pizza place?"
"One lemon (squeezed), two tablespoons sugar, ice..."
"What kind of ice? Shards? Crushed..."
"Cubes, little cubes of..."
"Water and shake." He demonstrated using an imaginary cup, covered by another imaginary cup, and shaking vigorously.
"I made this cake for you. I don't know how you managed in Quebec feeling the way you did. You are stronger than I am. All this cold makes me want to do is sleep." I said.
"Thank you." He said.
Nice eaten simply. Especially nice eaten with a slather of lemon curd.