Meringue -

Meringue - egg whites mixed with sugar.  I wonder who had the idea to do this! Not much taste unless it sits atop a tart lemon cream pie.  Tart is good.  Tart startles the tongue and demands attention.  Tart refuses to be taken for granted or relegated to the zone of comfort foods.  Tart is for life.

Comfort is for times of sleeping.  Spiritual sleeping.  Life has become a little more complicated, a little less easy than I'm willing to face so I retreat into a zone of comfort.  Soothe my palate with mashed potatoes, sotthe my body with sleep.  Body and spirit align through the magical power of starch.

But, I can't sleep forever.  Sooner of later the little whisper of self begins to abuse me.  "Coward" it says.  "Lazy," it mocks.  "Too fragile?" it tones sarcastically.  Then I MUST wake.  I must breathe the air of life.  I must have tart things.

Why do tart lemon pies come under a blanket of merigue?  I think it's the contrast.  As much as we think we want the comfortable adn the bland, sooner or later our sprit rejects that in favor of the surprising, the new, the discomfort of challenge.  Meringue is okay, but lemon is ALIVE.

Underneath it all the crust waits, solid and supportive.  When the pie is gone, crumbs of crust testify.