Key Lime Pie the real deal

Having polished off a giant platter of stone crab, I put my feet up on the table, sipped a cold beer and looked out at the Florida sun setting over the beach. I reached for the plate with its wedge of key lime pie and chewed drowsily.

And then I was nearly mowed down by a Chinese delivery guy. It was an abrupt shift into reality, which right now involved squeezing myself through paper-thin gaps between the train of cars extending from Broadway down Broome headed for the Holland Tunnel and the Jersey suburbs. Another end of a workday. Prematurely hot; hints of the sweaty city summer to come.

I was heading to day care where everyday I pick up our son.

“We’re making a pie,” I said as we crossed the street on the return trip. “Key lime. No crying. No playing. Hurry up.”

He lifted his scooter helmeted head, a bit confused, as if he had been picked up by the wrong guy. An angry pie baker.

Midway through juicing my second bag of tiny key limes, I realized the pie had to chill overnight. A devastatingly amateur but necessary recipe step. I baked the crust, filled the pie, spread and browned the meringue and popped it in the fridge. And waited.

I consider key lime pie a mother pie. The French have their mother sauces; we have mother pies, most of which seem to be associated with fall, winter, and especially thanksgiving: apple pie, pumpkin pie, pecan pie. There are also spring and summer fruit pies like cherry pie and strawberry-rhubarb.

A genius creation, key lime stands alone, proudly independent. While its siblings call for assistance in the form of whipped cream or ice cream or some sort of sauce, key lime pie is an autonomous entity. Each slice provides cream, sugar, acid, and a crunchy, toasty crust. Not to mention a nice lime hue in contrast to the glum muddiness of, say, pecan pie.

The next day, I pulled it from the fridge, crunched my fork through the bruleed meringue then the soft filling, and finally the crunchy, buttery graham cracker crust. Then moved over to our window. The sun was hitting the buildings on the east side of Broadway. Down on the street sightseeing buses crawled by and the hot dog man was parked in his usual spot by the bank.

I propped my feet up on the windowsill and took a bite of pie.

Key Lime Meringue Pie (from the Clinton St. Baking Company Cookbook)

Makes one 9-inch pie

Crust:

¾ cup graham cracker crumbs
½ stick unsalted butter, melted
2 tablespoons sugar
¼ teaspoon vanilla extract
Filling
¾ cup key lime juice
1 14-oz can condensed sweetened milk
4 egg yolks
zest one lime
Meringue
2 egg whites
1 cup sugar

Preheat oven to 350.

1. Mix the graham cracker crumbs and butter in a bowl then mix in sugar and vanilla.
2. Press evenly onto bottom and sides of a pie pan (the back of a spoon helps to smooth out). Bake 10 minutes. Reduce oven to 325, remove and let cool.
3. Meanwhile, whisk together filling, fill crust and bake at 325 for 8-10 minutes, until the filling is set. It may still jiggle in the center but have the firm texture of a pie or custard. Remove and raise temperature to 350.
4. Place whites in bowl of stand mixer and whisk on medium for a minute then add the sugar gradually and mix about 5 minutes till fluffy and a marshmallow consistency.
5. Use a spatula to spread the meringue over the top of pie without pressing too hard. Use it to make peaks and craters. (You’re going for a rustic look.)
6. Bake at 350 for 10 to 12 minutes until meringue is golden and crusty.
7. Chill overnight in fridge.