The Lemonade Stand

Summer is in full swing here in the Upstate, and that means the kids in our neighborhood have set up their curbside stands and are busy flagging down neighbors for cold lemonade, poured carefully into paper cups and best drunk in one gulp amidst the clatter of bicycles, scooters and discarded helmets, right there on the street.

Is there anything more refreshing than a lemonade stand, that symbol that despite cell phones and I-pods, video games and Wii, some vestiges of traditional childhood remain? What more simple pleasure than a homemade sign, a few chairs, a primitive cash box and a bright assembly of children with an endless sea of school-free days stretching before them?

I have to say with some residual jealousy that the children in our neighborhood are predestined for lemonade-stand success. We are some 800 families strong with busy main corridors and quiet cul-de-sacs. At any time of day during the summer, someone is almost always coming or going, on the way to pool or tennis courts, grocery store or play ground. Mini vans teaming with sippy-cup-clutching toddlers sail by, joggers sweat courageously past, dog walkers stride onward to the next fragrant patch of grass. Luckily for the children of this neighborhood, the next thirsty customer is always just around the bend.

How different things were for me as a child! We lived out in the country at the bottom of a long and quiet dead-end street. No clubhouse, no pool, no tennis courts. No merry to-ing and fro-ing, just the lonely, thirstless buzz of the cicada filling the air. Not to be deterred, my two best friends and I set up shop in the cul-de-sac and waited eagerly for customers. If it had not been for Mama, secretly calling up all twelve of the neighbors to suggest they swing by, we would not have sold a drop. As it was, neighbors, never before reported to have been seen outside, emerged from their air-conditioned homes and strolled down to our driveway, their pockets jingling coincidentally with loose change. At the end of the day, counting up our coins and smoothing out our dollar bills, we never dreamed that the invisible hand of my mother was behind any and all success.

So yes, the children in this neighborhood are quite fortunate, and I, for one, am always grateful to them for being real kids on a real suburban street on a real, hot summer afternoon. I can hardly wait for Wolfi to be old enough to set up shop. And then, as his mother, I won't need to make a dozen surreptitious calls. I might, however, be in charge of making the lemonade.

Lemonade

This recipe comes to us from another English friend of my mother named Dinky. She served it to us one afternoon many summers ago in her tiny English garden after an outing to Highclere Castle.

Ingredients:

1 pound 8 ounces sugar

1 ounce citric acid*

3 cups boiling water

Grated rind and juice of three large lemons

-- Combine sugar and citric acid in a jug.

-- Add boiling water and stir to dissolve.

-- When slightly cooled, add lemon rind and juice.

-- When cold, strain and bottle into mason jars. Refrigerate for up to several weeks.

-- To make the lemonade, combine one third syrup with two thirds cold water. Stir and serve over ice.

*Citric acid is available at your neighborhood drugstore. Go a few days early because it sometimes needs to be special ordered. A four-ounce bottle costs about $15, but it will see you through an entire summer worth of lemonade.