The Lime Experiment. (Operation Green Squeeze).

 


        Greetings love, and welcome to Foodie Heaven. (This is my first attempt at a blog so bear with me.)  I hope that you have read my introduction, and that you know that this is indeed another food blog... *Sigh* I take no credit for originality.
       So, as you have read the introduction, I have introduced myself already, and that you are now reading on only to enjoy my self depreciating wit, and asking yourself... "When is this crazy lady going to get on with the food?"  So I will.
          Today, for my own (but mostly your) pleasure, I attempted to create a key lime pie. Following are the steps that I took, the recipe, and of course the many photos.

                        Key lime pie.
                   Crust
                    Two cups of whole unbleached white flour,
                    One and a half cup of butter (unsalted)
                    A teaspoon of salt
                    Two tablespoons of sugar
                      Filling
                    One fourteen ounce can of sweetened condensed milk.
                    One cup of fresh key lime juice.
                    Five egg yolks.
                      Topping
                     One pint of very cold heavy whipping cream
                      Six tablespoons of powdered sugar
                     Four teaspoons of fresh lime juice. (regular or key)
                      Shavings of lime rind.
              Sounds pretty simple hu? Well, trade secrets of the countless restaurants that proclaim the "best" key lime pie, use bottled juice instead of squeezing the limes themselves. The actual squeezing of the limes is an arduous experience at best. Why you ask? Squeezing limes can't be that hard.  Well actually, when it comes to key limes, it is.  Below is an example of the size of a regular lime in comparison to a Florida key lime. If you don't pity my aching fingers then, read on, because you get more of the picture. (literally).

So, you have seen the monstrosity that is the tiny, sour, tough, key lime. Are you in sympathy? I thought so. :)  

Full disclosure, I made the crust last night, in order to make an apology spiced strawberry peach pie for my brother in law. (Don't ask.) The real reason that I am making this pie is because I had quite a bit of pie crust left over, even after the lattice. So unfortunately, there are no pictures of the crust making experience. (Thank goodness, I would have had a hard time making that look good.) 

                    Mix together the four, salt, sugar, and butter. (some use wooden spoons, my mother used a fork, but I use my fingers.) until it becomes the constancy of oatmeal. When ready, sprinkle somewhere around a teaspoon of cold water onto the contained flour mess that you have just made. There. You have your dough. 

        So, I use the method of pie crust that involves putting the lumps of dough into the pie pan, and pressing with your fingers until it becomes a very thin veil of crust. That makes it thin (which I believe is the best kind of crust.) Don't be daunted by making pie crust, its very simple in actuality, its just a bit temperamental like me when I have been deprived of chocolate for too long.      There are a few rules to follow to achieve greatness in that fine art called the perfect pie crust, and once they are down, you will never have to bite your fingernails about it again. (I promise)

Rules. 

The more butter the better.

Keep it cold when you are not using it.

Cover it.

Not too much salt, not too much sugar.

And that's it. Here, you have it. The perfect pie crust. (Now put it in the fridge, that's an order.) 

                    Okay, on to the filling. I want you to dump that whole fourteen ounces of martian goop called condensed milk into a mixing bowl, and add the five egg yolks. (And I hope you have a recipe that you want to make which involves a ridiculous amount of egg whites.) Now follow Michael Jackson's advice and... beat it.  Once its soft and fluffy like a baby rabbit. Start the process of squeezing yourself a whole darn cup of midget lime juice. (good luck, really you will need it). 

All of this for one cup? Believe it. 

Add your hard earned midget lime juice to your beaten milk and eggs, and beat it again. (what you sing in your kitchen is not my business, but I know what I was singing loudly and off key)

Now guess what? You are officially ready to pour it into the pie shell. So go ahead and take it out of the fridge, and pour away.

And that my friends, is a picture of me pouring the key lime goop into the pie crust. What you will soon be doing. #thiscouldbeyoucommercial. 

Please preheat your oven to 350, and put your beautiful pie into the refrigerator. Once the oven has beeped at you, signifying it is ready to receive your pie, then I encourage you to obey, and cook your delicious looking delicacy for ten minutes. (or until it browns)

 You are done. That's it.

 Except for one exceedingly annoying factor, cooling time. This pie cools for a whopping EIGHT HOURS.

So sit around and do whatever it is that you do for eight hours. Take a nap, read a book, plot to takeover the world. Whatever floats your boat.

But when its over, your pie is ready for the cream. 

Whip the whole pint. Go for it, be aggressive. When it starts forming stiff peaks and you start getting the timeless urge to play with it, take a deep breath, and add your sugar and lime juice. (You are going to be very sick of limes for a while after this.)  Whip until it is bonafide whipped cream (but not too long, since then you will have butter frosting and that would be... strange). Spread it all on your pie. Add your shavings of lime rind decoratively, and there you have it. Your simple, yet labor intensive (and coincidentally delicious)  Key lime pie. 

And for the great reveal.......... *drum roll please*

DON'T LEAVE YET!!! 

Not to sound like an overzealous salesmen, but I will be back next week with Morrcoan Lamb Stew. And if that doesn't make your mouth water, it will when you see the pictures. Until next time, Arya.