You donāt know real penance until youāve eaten Lemon Merangue Pie. Oh my Gosh! Last time I ate it was in college. I went to a fellow studentās grandmotherās house for dinner and the grandmother brought out this pie. It was covered with white stuff, so I didnāt see the lemon. She asked if I wanted some and I said yes. She cut into it, I saw the yellow, and was praying that it be the second-most revolting flavor in the world next to lemon-merangueābananna.
I took a bite, and my worst fears were realized. It was Lemon Merangue! I forced myself to eat it quickly, each swallow holding back projectile vomit, and the grandmother (who was just the sweetest old lady in the world) looked at me proudly and said, āDo you like it?ā
I said, trying to put on a joyful face, āOh, very much. Itās very good.ā
Then she says, āGreat! Hereās another piece.ā Before I could stop her, she slaps a second piece of Lemon Merangue pie onto my plate. I ate that, too, but more slowly, so that by the time I was finished the pie was gone. I wouldnāt have been able to down a third.
I went home and puked my guts out! Oh! YUCK!!! Nasty, nasty stuff.
Note: my taste for food is somewhat reversed, for one of my favorite meals is spinachāstraight out of a can. Itās better if microwaved first. Yummy! I used to buy canned spinach at the local market (as a kid) instead of candy. So ā¦ I am the exception to the rule. HA!