This recipe is vastly improved using the right ingredient, corn flour, rather than the course corn meal that made the first time like eating sand. The photo of the finished product I daresay is beautiful.
I'm not sure, however, if they're "good." It may look like a moist, dense cake, but the corn flour ensures a flat texture that dissolves into a paste of silt in the mouth. It doesn't really taste baked--it's more like a grain paste molded into a pleasing shape, like a corn halvah.
This time I spread the dough in a round pie pan, baking it as a sort of giant cookie, and then slicing into eighths once it was glazed and cooled. Which admittedly makes far larger biscuits than called for.
It's only the texture I'm iffy about--the flavors of lemon and corn go well together I think.
Why did I try this in the first place? Because the photos looked nice. Now I've taken an appetizing (I think) photo, in a different way, of more or less the same thing. If this weren't such an oddity, the world might be full of mouth-watering photos of it. Culinary hobbyists' kitchens everywhere would pop out these sunny-looking treats. The texture I've described as displeasing might instead be the subject of a poetics of delicacy. Like chocolate, a few strange people would never like it, much to the confusion and even mild distrust of everyone else. Or maybe not. There's more to gastronomic phenomena than photography.
What did the gelatinous goodies of the 1950s taste like? And I don't mean "what would they taste like if we made them today and tried them?"