Not my story but my Mom's.
My Mom is a reasonably good cook and tried very hard to feed us healthy, nutritious food growing up (not that I appreciated that then
). One of the dishes that we all loved was her chicken soup which she made from scratch. She has alway been thrifty and would freeze the meat stock she collected along with fruit from our garden, including the lemon juice squeezed from our trees.
Note: lemon juice and chicken stock look very similar if one is in a hurry, especially if they are stored in dark tupperware containers.
So one night we all sat down to dinner. It had been a long, frustrating day for my parents and the entire family was looking forward to the comfort of Mom's chicken soup. She spooned up bowls for my sister and me and told us to start eating while she took care of my father's and her portions. My sister and I took one bite and knew something was Very Very Wrong. My Dad saw our expressions and immediately took us to task - didn't we know how hard my mother worked? Shame on us for being so picky! Then my mother sat down, he got his bowl, and he took his first bite.
My Dad's mouth puckered involuntarily. The expression originated from his lips and rippled along his face, finally settling somewhere behind his ears. My Mom's face matched his.
There is nothing that can be done to rescue chicken soup that had lemon juice substituted for chicken stock. Everything tasted of lemon and nothing else, the chicken, the noodles, and the vegetables. My sister and I ended up adding sugar and whipped cream and the story of Lemon Meringue Soup became family legend.
