Beat the egg whites with the cream of tartar, vanilla, and salt until they are firm enough to hold a soft peak. Test this by shutting off the mixer and dotting the egg whites with the side of a clean rubber spatula. When you pull up the spatula, a soft peak should form.
Hannah’s 3rd Note: For those of you who haven’t made meringues before, soft peaks slump a bit and bend over on themselves. That’s what you want at this stage. A bit later on in the recipe, you’ll want stiff peaks. Those stand straight up and do not slump or bend over.
With the mixer running on MEDIUM HIGH speed, sprinkle the egg mixture with approximately one third of the sugar. Turn the mixer up to HIGH speed for ten seconds. Then turn the mixer down to MEDIUM HIGH speed again.
Sprinkle in half of the remaining sugar, turn the mixer up to HIGH speed for ten seconds, and then back down to MEDIUM HIGH speed again.
Sprinkle in the remaining sugar and follow the same procedure, turning the mixer OFF when you’re through.
Sprinkle in the flour and mix it into the egg white mixture at LOW speed. (You spent all this time whipping air into your meringue. Now you don’t want to whip any air back out!)
Take the bowl out of the mixer and, using your rubber spatula, carefully fold in the chopped dried pineapple, mango, and the finely chopped coconut.
Use a spoon to drop small mounds of meringue onto your cookie sheet, no more than 12 mounds to a standard-sized sheet. (If you make 4 rows with 3 meringue mounds in each row, that should be perfect.)
Bake your Tropical Angel Cookies at 275 degrees F. for approximately 40 minutes (forty minutes) or until the meringue part of the cookie is slightly golden and dry to the touch when you tap it lightly with your finger.
Cool the cookies on the paper-lined baking sheet by setting it on a cold stovetop burner or on a wire rack.
When your Tropical Angel Cookies are completely cool, peel them off the paper and store them in an airtight container in a cool, dry place. (Unfortunately, your refrigerator is NOT a dry place. A cupboard shelf will do just fine as long as it’s not near your stove.)
Yield: 3 to 4 dozen crunchy, melt-in-your-mouth cookies with a delightful tropical flavor. Warning: Tropical Angel Cookies are like potato chips. You can’t eat just one!
Chapter Seven
Hannah stood in the adult beverage aisle, staring at the display on her cell phone. Norman had sent her the recipe and it was the reason she was here at Florence’s Red Owl grocery store. Once she’d read through the recipe, she’d decided that the beer muffins would go perfectly with the Chicken Stroganoff she’d made for tonight’s dinner. As always, she’d made extra just in case anyone dropped by and she was glad that she’d invited both Mike and Norman to have dinner at the condo with them.
“One sixteen-ounce bottle of pale lager,” Hannah read the ingredient aloud, but it still didn’t make sense. Of course she knew that a lager was a type of beer, but what kind was it? For the first time in her life, she wished that she were more familiar with beer terms. Did “pale” mean the same as “light,” the way it did with skin color? According to the ad she’d seen on television, a light beer had less calories than regular beer. Perhaps that was it. Or did “light” refer to the alcohol content? She seemed to remember Michelle saying something about three-two beer having less alcohol than regular bottled beer. But this recipe called for a sixteen ounce bottle of beer, so that couldn’t possibly be the answer.
Hannah reached out to take down a bottle of beer from the shelf. It was Coor’s Light and “light” might be “pale.” But was it a lager? She wasn’t sure so she grabbed one of the six-pack holders that Florence provided for mix and match beer samplings. She unfolded the holder, stuck the Coor’s Light in one of the six divisions, and put the holder in the bottom of her shopping cart.
The next beer she examined was Newcastle Brown Ale. If it was brown it couldn’t be pale, so it lost out on that count. And if it was ale, it might not be a lager. She put it back on the shelf.
The next beer was a total mystery. It said Pilsner Urquel. Was a pilsner a lager? She just wasn’t sure. But she could see that the liquid inside the green bottle wasn’t brown, so she stuck it in the six-pack holder. A bottle of Budweiser was next and that made three different bottles in her cart. There were three more spaces in the six-pack holder and Hannah found another beer that said Lagunitas IPA. Perhaps the P stood for “pale” so she added that to the mix. A bottle of Corona was the next beer she took, followed by a bottle of Beck’s. She was just getting ready to push her cart to the next aisle when she heard voices coming from the baking aisle.
“Hello there! I haven’t seen you for ages! Of course I see Tricia at every rehearsal. She’s doing very well, Helen.”
Hannah recognized the high-pitched voice of Irma York. And since she’d mentioned Tricia, the other shopper must be Tricia’s mother, Helen Barthel.
Hannah went on full alert. This was a real stroke of luck! Tricia’s name had been in Tori’s appointment book and if she stayed quiet and listened to Irma and Helen’s conversation, perhaps she’d hear something that might help her investigation.
“I’m glad we ran into each other, Irma,” Helen said. “Do you know who might be taking over as the director of the Lake Eden Players? Tricia’s worried that the play might be canceled and it’s her first starring role.”
“I’m not sure, Helen. We’ve been talking about finding another director, but we haven’t come to a decision yet.”
“It’s a terrible shame. Tricia worked so hard at her acting lessons, not to mention learning all those lines.”
There was a moment of silence and then Irma spoke again. “I guess Tricia is very upset about Tori.”
“Of course she is. She was there earlier that night, you know.”