Late one summer, when I was about 12 years old, my mother packed us all up in the van and took us to a small local fair. At this point there were six of us kids (or was it seven?) and any excuse to get out of the house was a good one.
But my mom had a mission — she wasn't just going to drag us out to a county fair. She was entering a baking contest. She wrapped up a couple loaves of intensely lemony quick bread, drizzled with lemon syrup and sprinkled generously with zest. And we marched off to that fair, lemon's aroma wafting into the back of our very long stretch van.