I like to spend time in the kitchen making things I like to eat.  This is not unusual for a decidedly un-butch homosexual in his late late thirties, but there you have it.  We are what we are, and at least I'm not obsessed with house music.

One of my favorite things to do is bake, and so I always keep the basics on hand: AP flour, granulated sugar, unsalted butter, large eggs, baking powder & soda, salt, chocolate, vanilla.  I even have a frozen supply of buttermilk.  You get the idea. 

One thing that I don't often have on hand, despite the fact that they grow all around us here in San Francisco are Meyer Lemons, a citrus fruit so sublime and transcendent that I look forward to the winter months when it is fully in season like half my high school looked forward to Deer Season.

Now, this is the point I should probably mention that, as a baker, I have had nearly as many spectacular failures as I have had successes.  Jenny knows that well enough... she and I have had our share of the former.  We got together a week or so back for the semi-irregular meeting of Cake Club, and decided to make The Cake Bible's Lemon Poppyseed poundcake.  Classic.  Jenny and Harold are lucky enough to have a huge Meyer Lemon tree right in there very own feral cat shelter... er, I mean back yard.  Naturally then, I demanded Jenny show up with a healthy bagful, and she did not dissappoint.  Christopher and I have had a big bowl full of the things to enjoy since then.

Flash forward to two days ago, and our pals Kay and Grant invited us over for dinner at their place up in the upper reaches of Upper Market.  We asked what we could bring (aside from wine, which we could be bathing in nightly we have so much), and they asked for dessert.  Problem.

Why a problem?  Welp, as I said before, I'm a baker.  Flour is in everything I make most often.  BUT... Kay has a condition called coeliac disease, which is a fancy way of saying that she can't eat wheat gluten or she will get very very sick and eventually way worse than that.  Not wanting to poison our host (Miss Manners insists it's not the way to go), I knew I had to come up with a dessert with no flour.  I had the lemons that were crying out to be used, but I couldn't do my usual pound cake. 

I turned then to my trusty collection of Everyday Food magazine and found just the thing: Lemon Pudding.  We could add a little whipped cream and maybe some chocolate shaivngs that would be that.  Yum!  It actually did turn out fine, though it didn't gel up as nicely as I would have liked (I should have cooked it a bit longer), but otherwise it was quite good, but not a hit.  C'pher didn't care for it -- he is rather a chocolate obsessive.  Maybe I should have made that flourless chocolate cake.

So I came home with a nice amount of that pudding, and a few lemons still itching to be used.  I zested and juiced the remainder of the pile and found I had EXACTLY enough for the usual pound cake.  I had just greased my beloved tube pan when inspiration struck:  what if I took the pound cake batter and made cupcakes out of it instead?  I could then pipe the remaining pudding inside to up the lemon quotient. 

I didn't think much about a pound-cake batter being a bit too dense for cupcakes, so they came out a bit... well, dense.  And, to my horror, I discovered right when I put the first batch in the oven, that the measuring cup full of the last of the precious Meyer Lemon juice was still there.  Yep... I forgot to put it in.  The batter had all the zest, but still... these could have used the softening acidity of the juice.

Undaunted, I went ahead and piped a bit of the lemon pudding (with some leftover whipped cream mixed in) into the... well, they were more muffins really.  With the excess lemon juice, I made a lemon buttercream frosting, and sprinkled a little colored sugar on top.

They look fine, but honestly -- I haven't eaten one yet.  I think one of the reasons so many pastry chefs are so thin is that, after having their hands in sugary food all day, they don't have any interest in eating it.  Or maybe cocaine.  I'm not sure.

Lemon Pudding

Serves 8

Home-made pudding has an undeserved reputation for being difficult. It's really pretty easy.  You just need to be patient with bringing the custard up to a slow simmer.  This recipe uses a cup of lemon juice, which is really a lot, so have extra lemons on hand.  Zest them first, then roll them on the counter while pressing them before juicing... you get a lot more that way.  I did our pudding in a one big dish so it would be easier to take to our host's for dinner.  So that it could cool down quicker before putting it in the fridge, I immersed the dish in an icewater bath for a few minutes, which really worked like a charm.  Fruit or chocolate shavings as a garnish work really nicely with the whipped cream.

• 6 large egg yolks
• 1 Cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar
• 1/3 Cup cornstarch
• 1 Tablespoon finely grated lemon zest, plus more for garnish (optional)
• 1/4 Teaspoon coarse salt
• 1 Cup freshly squeezed lemon juice
• 1 Cup heavy cream
• 3 1/2 Cups milk