We celebrated my sweet mother’s birthday yesterday–and Lucy went to her first fancy restaurant (she slept the entire two hour meal, Praise God!) We dined on delicately prepared sea bass and trout as we passed around the bread basket and shared stories of the past few weeks. I sat beside my mother and watched the way she held her fork in her hand. I looked at her fingers and realized I knew them almost as well as my own. And then I thought back to my earliest memories of childhood and how her presence, then almost larger than life, infused those memories with a soft sweetness.
Having a daughter has made me appreciate the bond I have with my mother even more. The moment after I welcomed Lucille into the world, I told my doula to bring my mom into the delivery room. As I held my daughter in my arms for the first time, I finally realized how much my mother had loved me. There was nothing in the world that could change or diminish my love for Lucy, and I recognized that I’d been allowed to grow in that same unconditional love my entire life. The tears I cried that day were full of joy and gratitude. To be allowed to participate in this generational mothering is one of the greatest blessings I’ve ever received.
A mother’s love is the foundation of a human being’s life. I know many people, my older sisters foremost in my mind, who lost their mothers far too young. And so even as I celebrate this multi-generational bond, I realize that for many people, the transition into parenthood can be rife with pain. Ryan lost his father several years ago, and I can see occasional glimmers of that loss permeating the joy he has when he holds Lucy. He misses him, and my heart aches for him, and yet I see our little girl offering more healing to that wound than anyone has been able to thus far.
And so I’m sitting here, thankful that my mom has been my constant support and companion over these last 26 years. Happy Birthday, precious Mother. I’m sitting here, in the knowledge that new life can bring so much joy while also digging up buried pain. I’m sitting here, with Lucy in my arms, and I’m praying that our bond will grow and flourish over the next ten, twenty, thirty, forty years…and that she too will one day join me in the occupation of MOTHER. There has been no greater role in my life.
I made this lemon puff pastry tart for my mom. She loves lemon meringue pie, and while I didn’t have enough time to whip egg whites into those delicate white peaks, Lucy did grant me an hour so I could make this simple yet elegant tart. Pre-made puff pastry makes this tart an easy dessert while a homemade lemon curd makes it bright and flavorful. I hope you enjoy it as much as we did. And if you’re mother is around, tell her how much you love her today. I love you, Mom.
Lemon Puff Pastry Tart
*Lemon Curd Recipe from Barefoot Contessa
1 sheet frozen puff pastry, thawed (1/2 of 17.3 ounce package)
2 lemons
3/4 cups sugar
4 tablespoons butter
2 eggs
1/4 cup lemon juice (from above mentioned lemons)
Dash of Salt
Preheat oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Place puff pastry on parchment paper-lined baking sheet. Cut 4 (3/4-inch) strips evenly around the puff pastry with a small knife. Place strips on the edges of the square to form a frame. Prick inside of pastry all over with fork.
Bake for 15 minutes or until golden brown. Cool on wire rack.
Using a carrot peeler, remove the zest of 2 lemons, being careful to avoid the white pith. Put the zest in a food processor fitted with the steel blade. Add the sugar and pulse until the zest is very finely minced into the sugar. Cream the butter and beat in the sugar and lemon mixture. Add the eggs, 1 at a time, and then add the lemon juice and salt. Mix until combined.
Pour the mixture into a 2 quart saucepan and cook over low heat until thickened (about 10 minutes), stirring constantly. The lemon curd will thicken at about 170 degrees F, or just below simmer. Remove from the heat and cool in refrigerator for one hour. Using a knife or a spatula, spread cooled lemon curd on cooled puff pastry. Serve immediately.
