This is a tale of hoopties and lemon bars. Oh, and irony. We can't forget the irony.
See, two years ago, I backed our car into a wall near the garage. This may have been because:
a) I was bobbing around spastically while listening to Lady Gaga
b) I have zero depth perception
c) I was bobbing around spastically while listening to Lady Gaga
Whatever the reason, the tiny bump left a giant white scrape on the bumper of our black car. Not just a scrape. A paint peeling, eye sore of a scrape. As soon as I saw it, I immediately thought of the hubster. A man who loves his cars so much, he refused to let me eat Flamin' Hot Cheetos in his last one. He also made us park aaaaaaallllll the way at the end of the parking lot because he didn't want less fastidious drivers to harm his baby. Oh, and my personal favorite? He once drove around the Walmart parking for twenty minutes, evaluating cars with empty spots next to 'em. His theory? If the car was dinged, it was clear the owner didn't care about their own car and consequently, wouldn't care about his. I failed to point out that we were at Walmart not Saks. Dinged cars came with the territory of $5 Bumpits and $8 stone washed denim jackets. Oh, and $2 Cheetos (the obvious reason for our visit).
But we'd been married for a couple of years. The hubster had had some time to get used to my clumsiness. I was hopeful this wouldn't be terrible. So, I mentioned the scrape offhandedly at dinner that night. The hubster jumped up from the table, dashed outside, and for a moment, an expression I can only describe as pure grief passed over his face. Then, he just shook his head knowingly and laughed. Marriage 1, car psychosis 0.
And so, that scrape remained on the car for the next couple of years. We came to terms with it much like I've come to terms with the crazy, rampant baby hair on my head (No I haven't, I still hate it and wish I could glue the 8 million tiny strands down). And then, news came we were moving back to San Francisco. A city where 80% of the people we knew had flashy luxury cars, with cushy leather seats that they massaged with hundreds of dollars worth of product to keep them, well, cushy. For the record, I don't even spend hundreds of dollars on massages for myself! Needless to say, this wasn't about keeping up with the Joneses. This was about making sure the Joneses didn't mock us mercilessly. So, the car went to the auto body doctor and the scrape got fixed.
And two days later, I came down to the parking garage and the scrape had magically reappeared. In the exact same spot. In all its paint peeling, eye sore glory. See, apparently scrapes are a rather common hazard of living in a city where everyone has poor depth perception and is rocking out to Lady Gaga while attempting to park. The hubster blames the tiny parking spaces but I know it's the Lady Gaga. I had half a mind to walk around inspecting every car in the parking garage for remnants of black paint from our car but the hubster convinced me that would be futile. The culprit was long gone. Likely, to Walmart.
There was nothing left to do but accept that the scrape was destined to be a constant fixture on our car. Nothing left to do but make dessert. I call these "My Car Will Forever Be a Hooptie Lemon Bars" but you can feel free to simply call 'em delicious. Tart, creamy, and über-addictive, they are the perfect cure for what ails you. Even if what ails you is a lethal combination of poor depth perception and Lady Gaga.
1/3 cup fresh squeezed lemon juice (add slightly more for more tartness)
3 tablespoons flour
1 1/3 cup sugar
2 cups flour
1/2 (1 stick) cold margarine or butter (or room temp)
1/3 cup sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Spray a 9x9-sized glass pan with cooking spray.
2. For Crust: In large bowl with mixer at medium speed beat flour, butter, sugar and salt until mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Press firmly into bottom and 1/4 inch up sides of prepared pan. (I personally like a thin crust, so I just used half of the crust recipe)
3. Bake crust for 15 minutes.
4. For Filling: Whisk together eggs, sugar, flour, and lemon juice until frothy. Pour mixture onto hot crust; spread evenly.
5. Bake 20 minutes or until light golden brown. Cool on wire rack.
Recipe from our friend C.C.