Last Friday, when I ran to the grocery store for ingredients to make the Cinnamon Roll Cookie Bars, I was stopped in my tracks in the middle of the produce section. And I wasn’t the only one, either. I have a tendency to think out loud, and my “Strawberries for $.88 a pound–in SEPTEMBER?” elicited similar observations from the nearest customer. Not only were we floored by the price (because really, you JUST DON’T SEE THAT), but we were impressed by the quality. They weren’t perfect, but they were awfully impressive for September strawberries in Utah. I bought some, of course, and while some are still in the fridge, and some went to a baptism on Saturday, the rest starred in these Strawberry Lemonade Bars, which I was psyched to try.
Let me start out by saying that the recipe isn’t kidding around about the cooling time required–two hours is really not enough unless you’ve got a plate, fork, and napkin. Luckily, I did follow the recipe (surprise!) and so I didn’t even try to cut them any earlier. As for how they were….hmmm.
My parents tried them and enjoyed them. My son nibbled and then bailed (he’s an ‘eat off the frosting’ kind of kid), my oldest seemed to like them, my second girlie was ambivalent, my husband’s reaction was predictable (they weren’t so much his thing) and I–was ambivalent, too. Here’s the thing–the shortbread crust was lovely, and it combined very nicely with the fruity tang. The combination of strawberry and lemon, however, was a bit odd in these. My carpooling friend said they were very different, and mentioned that the strawberry seeds were not so desirable if you’re looking for the smoothness of a typical lemon bar. I just didn’t love the flavor combo, I guess–I’d rather have a lemon bar with the crust and filling, maybe, and a strawberry cream cheese bar on a different day. Unfortunately, while I’m still ambivalent, I’m also a sucker for home-baked treats, acidity, and shortbread. The bars are gone.
Yeah…I don’t really want to talk about it. Let’s just say that the next time I make a treat that I know the rest of my household will NOT enjoy as much as I do, I’m making up plates to share with neighborhood friends before I break out the fork and open the container holding the leftovers. I’m already having eater’s remorse. Learn from my mistakes, friends.
Someone has to.