Lemon Pie

At times this will be a solo vacation.  My husband is doing his important MBA things during the day, and we meet up for dinner and festivities at night.  Next week is our duo vacation.  There are other spouses in the group, but I'd rather be alone than with a group of solos, which doesn't make me sound like the friendliest person.  I just prefer my own adventures.

On Monday I went to lunch in a cafe across from a large park.  The park had trees that looked like this...

Strange and beautiful trees that grow thick and wide.  A tree designed for climbing.  Argentina is not in a hurry.  I sat in the cafe for many minutes waiting to get a menu and wondering how many children climbed the tree before they fenced it off.  

I was friendly with the 60-something waiter, who, like me, only spoke one language.  His was Spanish.  Mine was English flavored with bits of Spanish from growing up in Texas.  I was able to order nonetheless, and I ate a delicious beef tenderloin sandwich with cheese and tomatoes and lettuce and with sparkling water and a double espresso.  The coffee is delicious in this slow moving world.  After my relaxing lunch, the waiter insisted that I order the lemon pie for dessert.  He kept telling me in Spanish that it was the best.  I instantly felt connected to my mother, because she enjoys a good lemon pie.  She likes tart desserts, whereas I do not like lemon in my sweets.  Since I didn't know the Spanish words to politely decline the demands of my waiter, I ordered the lemon pie and another double espresso.  It would have tasted better if my mother was eating with me, but I emailed her the photo and told her this story. It was a solid lemon pie nontheless.  

I was most impressed with the meringue crown on the pie; as if the cook secretly added marshmallow cream to her mountainous meringue. I want to try that combination when I get back home.

So you see, I wasn't really on a solo vacation; my mother was with me and that lemon pie!