The Lemon Meringue Pie. verbatim.
How we make it.
Filling:
1/2 teaspoon grated lemon rind
1/3 cup strained lemon juice (2 medium size lemons)
1/4 cup corn starch
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 1/3 cups sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups boiling water
3 egg yolks
3 tablespoons firm butter
Meringue:
Dash of salt
3 egg whites
1/3 cup sugar
Bake and cool pastry shell. Wash lemons and grate off yellow part of the rind. Squeeze juice; run through coarse strainer. Blend flour, cornstarch, sugar and salt in a 3 quart saucepan. Stir in boiling water. Place over direct heat and stir constantly until thick and clear. Beat egg yolks; quickly stir in about 1/3 cup of hot mixture, return to saucepan, cook and stir about 2 minutes longer. Remove from heat, stir in butter, then the rind, then the lemon juice gradually in small portions, mixing well after each. Set this aside to cool a bit and make the meringue.
Add salt to egg whites and beat until just stiff, then gradually beat in 1/3 cup sugar until meringue is stiff and shiny. Pour filling into pie shell. Spread meringue lightly over pie so it touches crusts all around; swirl or spread smooth. Bake at moderate (350 degrees) for 12 to 15 minutes or until golden brown.
Why we make it.
Marie Ridings Dorsey was born in Somerset, Kentucky in 1913, the third of five girls. Everything she did was subtle. When I smell an overripe banana, I think of her. She taught me how to gently scramble egg whites in butter in a cornflower casserole dish on her coil stovetop. This was the first thing I learned to cook. She would let me make as many egg whites as I liked, separating the yolks out with her delicate Ivory soap scented hands. I loved her. She was my Nana, and this is her pie, subtle like she was. Delicate hints of lemon under a cloud of sweet meringue. It tastes like what it felt like to be with her. This pie is the crowning glory from the list of favorites her grandchildren will never forget - vinegared cucumbers, pot roasts, canned peaches with a cherry. When I taste her lemon curd, she's in the room. I so badly miss her being in the room. This is why we make it.
Comments
Post a Comment