Eggs-traordinary aggravation

Oh, c'mon - I'm allowed a horrible pun once in a while. Cooking that deals with eggs has never been my strong point. I mean, sure, the first "real" cooking I ever did without the supervision of an adult was scrambled eggs (in the microwave) and they turned out perfectly, but beyond that I've always had issues. I don't know why. Making an omelette is a crap shoot - I've got even chances to pull it off perfectly, or having it split into two or three pieces mid-flip, leaving me swearing up a blue streak and mangling it into the scrambled egg equivalent of a ten-car pileup with my fork out of spite. Basic fried eggs? Not a problem... as long as you don't mind the underside being a blotchy white and yellow mess of hard-cooked yolk, the casualty of never being able to lift it quickly and cleanly enough to keep the still-raw yolk from sliding right off the spatula, and swan-diving to its splattery end in the skillet, leaving me to gently lay the cooked portion still on my spatula over it like a burial shroud.

The one thing that I have NEVER been able to pull off perfectly, though, has been a pie meringue. This is particularly galling for me, since I like to make desserts more than anything else, and I LOVE the lemon meringue pie recipe from "The Joy of Cooking." But even using their foolproof method for meringue, mine always "weeps". That is, shortly after it comes out of the oven it develops those small dark brown spots of syrup on top, which is a sign of an inferior meringue. One attempt I made was so pathetic that instead of small weeping drops, I actually had several puddles of syrupy imperfection all over it.

However, recently I found I had a nearly-empty bottle of Nellie and Joe's Key West Lime juice in the back of my refrigerator, just enough for a single key lime pie, and I just so happened to also have a can of sweetened condensed milk sitting in my cupboard. Key lime pie is probably the easiest pie in the world to make - you use a simple graham cracker crust of crumbs and butter. The pie filling only has three ingredients. The pie itself only takes 20 minutes to bake. And it is the only pie I love more than lemon meringue. Normally I see (and myself top) key lime pie with real whipped cream, but I realized that I would have 4 egg whites sitting around unused after I placed the required four egg yolks in the pie filling. I thought "what the hell", and went about making a meringue to top this pie off with. I used the "foolproof" method again, which basically means a few extra fussy steps of boiling some water, cornstarch, and sugar into a thick glue that is allowed to cool a bit and then gets stirred into the meringue prior to topping the pie. Eggs whipped, "glue" incorporated, spatula out, meringue dabbed onto pie. Then, the whole thing was shoved into the preheated oven, and I got down on my knees and f*cking PRAYED.

It came out of the oven looking nicely browned. Half an hour later, I was cautiously optimistic. No weeping. An hour later, still nothing and I oh-so-carefully slid it into my refrigerator and went to bed with a glimmer of hope in my heart. The next morning, I opened my refrigerator with crossed fingers, and was greeted by my very first, perfectly baked, weep-free meringue pie. Because I HAD MADE A PERFECT MERINGUE. FINALLY, perfection with eggs had been reached. Much hooting, hollering, fist-pumping, and an attempted cartwheel ensued. I was ecstatic.



Look at it. Not a blemish, not a spot of dark brown ooze anywhere. The jagged little peaks I made by dabbing at the meringue with my spatula held their shape, and turned that lovely dark brown shade. Sheer perfection! So happy, I was, and it was with great pride that I took it to where I worked and presented it in our company breakroom.

Within a minute, two co-workers confessed the "weeping" was their favorite part of a meringue.

I wonder if they'd notice the next time I baked a cake if I substituted castor oil for vegetable oil. Weep over THAT, you bastards. Grrr.

An Improbable Pie-Mutation

I was looking through a Pillsbury Bake-Off cookbook of my mother's last Thanksgiving. This particular cookbook is 40 years old, and I frequently like reading recipes from the 1950s and 1960s because it's kind of neat in a funny way to read recipes that proudly trumpet the amazing dishes you can make for your family using things like Spam, Wonderbread, and Cheez-Its.

Anyway, I was reading it and THIS leapt out at me:


Wow - I don't even know what to say about this. It looks like a pie that mutated, and the list of ingredients indicates a truly bizarre mix of flavors - coconut, pecans, and lime. It's actually pretty simple to make - It's just pre-baking the crust, with a little toasting, a little whipping, a little spreading, and a little spooning.


And y'know what? This is actually pretty tasty. I would suggest letting the lime sherbet sit out of the freezer for a good 15 minutes or so to soften it, or spoon it out into a large bowl and stir it a bit until it's softer - if it's too hard, you're going to have a hell of a time spreading it without breaking the crust.

Macaroon Crunch Pie

9-in. pie crust
1/2 c. shredded coconut
1 pint lime sherbet (1/2 a quart)
1 1/2 c. heavy whipping cream
1/3 c. powdered sugar
1 cup crushed macaroon cookies* (I bought a brand that was called (I think) Southern Kitchen)
1/2 c. chopped pecans

Pre-bake a 9-in pie crust, either using a store-bought brand or your favorite homemade recipe. When the crust comes out of the oven, spread the coconut on a small baking sheet or a piece of heavy-duty foil and toast it for a few minutes. Let the crust and coconut cool COMPLETELY.

Set aside 2 tablespoons of the coconut and spread the rest in the bottom of the crust. Spread the soft sherbet over it and pop it in the freezer while you get on with the rest of the recipe.

Whip the heavy cream until it begins to thicken, add the sugar and beat until stiff peaks form. Set aside 1 cup of that for later. Fold the cookie crumbs and pecans into the rest of the whipped cream. Take the pie out of the freezer and spread the crumb-cream mixture until it completely covers the sherbert (it will help keep it frozen later). Take that reserved 1 cup of whipped cream and dab spoonfuls of it around the edge of the pie, then sprinkle the remaining 2 tablespoons of coconut in the center. Put it back in the freezer and let it sit overnight.










*Buy thin, crispy coconut cookies. DO NOT buy those delicious, soft, mounded macaroons that look like snowballs - they are FAR too soft to crumble well.

A Mockery of Pie

The second of the three pie recipes I'm posting is Mock Apple Pie. I found it while I was rooting around on the Internet, trying to find the original Wonder Pie recipe I used in the previous blog entry.

Mock Apple Pie, as the name suggests, doesn't have a speck of real apple in it. Instead, it uses crushed Ritz crackers and the juice and zest of a lemon to fool the eater into thinking this is an apple pie. It sounded revolting. Naturally, I couldn't resist trying it out.

From the outside, it certainly LOOKS like a classic apple pie, but on the inside I thought it kind of looked like a pecan pie - i.e. a solid brown jelly-like center. Maybe I crushed the crackers a bit too much. That wasn't the only issue I had with this pie. I don't know, maybe it's because we have larger lemons down here in Florida, but everyone who tasted the pie assumed the flavoring was lemon, so I guess there was too much zest in it. Maybe if I make this again, I'll keep the lemon zest but swap out the lemon juice for apple juice or apple cider to mask the flavor a bit more.

Mock Apple Pie

Ready-made crust for a 9-inch pie, top and bottom (I used Pillsbury for this one)
1 sleeve of Ritz Crackers, semi-crushed
1 3/4 cups water
2 cups sugar
2 teaspoons cream of tartar
2 tablespoons lemon juice
Grated peel of one lemon
2 tablespoons COLD margarine or butter
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

It's pretty simple to make. First, you preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Then you stir together the water, sugar, and cream of tartar and bring it to a boil for a good 15 minutes - it should be a nice syrup with a faint brown tint to it. Add the zest and juice and let it cool. Don't be alarmed if the lemon zest looks a little browned by the time the syrup cools down a bit - that happened to me and it didn't make any difference. Line a 9" pie plate with the bottom crust, dump in the Ritz crumbs, and carefully pour the syrup over them. Cut the cold butter into little bits and sprinkle them over the syrup-cracker mixture with the cinnamon (see the photo above, and y'know, now that I look at it again, I really didn't crumble the crackers that much). Cover with the upper crust, crimp the top and bottom crust together, slit the top crust a few times to let steam escape while it bakes, and pop it in the oven for 30 minutes or so.

I don't usually use cinnamon in the recipes that call for it. Rather, I use this INCREDIBLY good spice mix from Penzey's. It has anise in it and normally I despise anything that smells like, tastes like, or has had a passing acquaintance with black licorice (and I'm not that fond of cardamom, either), but I still love this stuff. It's especially good sprinkled over coffee, as well. Nice flavor and it smells wonderful, too.


Small confession - I forgot to put the cinnamon in with the butter, so when the pie came out of the oven (it looked pretty terrific, if I do say so myself) I mixed my baking spice with an equal bit of granulated sugar. I gave the still-hot pie a quick brush-over with milk and quickly sprinkled the sugar-and-spice mixture over the top. Maybe the spice flavor didn't permeate the pie like it would have, if I'd added it when I was supposed to, but it looked nice and it smelled divine.

Wonder Pie in the Sky

Someone recently posted a request for the Wonder Pie I mentioned in an earlier post, and since I remember it being a snap to make and that I finally have some free time after two weeks, I decided to crank it out. Also, it ties in nicely with the premiere of "Pushing Daisies", with it's pie-shop-dwelling characters, so I'll post this recipe and one or two other pie recipes later on.

So, when I sat down to make this, I realized I didn't have my mother's original recipe anywhere. I remember it being hand-written on an index card and stuffed in a small cardboard box with a jumble of recipes clipped from magazines and newspapers, and copies of stuff from my uncle and grandmother. I checked the Internet, and nothing I found recalled my mother's recipe. Some were close (and by close I mean they contained eggs, sugar, and coconut), but none were the original. So, I called my mom up.

Me: "Do you remember a recipe for something called Wonder Pie?"
Mom: "No, I don't think so."
Me: "I made it for that food class I took in high school, remember?"
Mom: "Oh, that's right - Ms. Cavanaugh's class."
Me: "Yeah, it's got coconut in it - you had it written down and you kept it in a box with some other recipes."
Mom: "Yes - do you need it? Hold on a sec."
*shuffling noises, followed by her scolding one of her dogs*
Mom: "Ok, got it - I have it as Impossible Pie, but I have 'aka Wonder Pie' on it. Here it is:"

Impossible Pie (aka Wonder Pie)

4 eggs

1/4 c Oleo

1 c. sugar

1/2 c. flour

1/4 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. baking powder

2 c. milk

1 c. coconut

1 tsp. vanilla

Blend ALL ingredients at once in a food processor. Pour into a buttered 10" pie shell and bake at 350 degrees for 1 hour.

Me: "A 'buttered pie shell' - like a ready-made crust?"
Mom: "Maybe, why?"
Me: "I thought it made it's own crust - aka the WONDER part of Wonder Pie."
Mom: "Hmm - maybe I meant a buttered pie plate. Oh well. So, just don't use the crust - if it doesn't work you'll have coconut custard."
Me: "I don't need a dish of CUSTARD, I need a PIE."
Mom: "So, make it both ways. It sounds easy to make."
Me: "It's not made in the microwave?"
Mom: "The microwave? No, should it be?"
Me: "The recipes I found online that sounded close to this were made in the microwave."
Mom: "My dear, microwaves weren't invented when I wrote this recipe down."
Me: "Oh... really?"
Mom (annoyed): "YEAH, really."
Me: "Ok - just one more question."
Mom: "Yes?"
Me: "What is this 'Oleo'? Is it some kind of cookie, or something?"
Mom: "..."
Me: "What?"
Mom: "...you just love making me feel old, don't you?"
*click*

Love ya, Mom.

Well, I didn't make it both ways - I went with my gut, which said my mom's recipe meant a buttered pie plate. It turned out really well, with a nice golden brown coconut topping and a nice custard filling in the center. I wound up using unsalted butter instead of Oleo and I had to go with skim milk since it was all I had on hand at the time. It jiggled rather alarmingly when I first checked it, until I remembered that it's mostly eggs and milk, and would probably set when it cooled. It did (WHEW), and it was delicious, particularly with a little pineapple ice cream topping spooned on it and some real whipped cream.

My mom isn't the only one feeling old right now. Out of nowhere today, I had a sudden realization that Super Mario Bros., my favorite video game when I was a kid, is almost 25 years (a QUARTER of a CENTURY) old. Uch, I need to lie down.