I Promised You Pie

I did. I promised you pie. Remember all that talk about key limes and Florida and neighbors and everything? Well, it's a day late, but here you go. (Okay, so I'm sure no one has actually been tapping their toes, waiting for this recipe so that their life could actually go on. But it's nice to pretend that people need pies urgently, as I sometimes do.)

I spent a long time searching for the perfect key lime pie recipe. It's one of my dad's favorite desserts, you see, so I couldn't possibly offer him some sad, pitiful, mediocre pie. It had to be perfect. Now, there are a lot of key lime pie recipes floating around out in the world, and a particularly large amount swarming in the internets (yes, internets -- I just really like the way it sounds like I have better things to do than spend all my time staring at a computer screen, living in some cyberworld, which is clearly untrue). And there are some pies out there that don't even deserve to be called key lime pie, due to the fact that they either A.) have green food coloring inside, trying to trick the eater into believing that it's actually lime juice that made it that color or B.) have innards consisting of primarily Cool Whip or something else that is similarly light and fluffy. Those pies need to call themselves something else, because it's just mean. The real key lime pies out there have officially had their feelings hurt, and it's time we fixed things. It's time we set things straight. And you, dear reader, are hereby invited to help with this revolution.

The perfect key lime pie needs several things. One, it simply must begin with a perfect crust. Not crumbs out of a box, but real actual graham crackers, crushed up. I won't lie. Sometimes I get a little obsessive and I make the graham crackers myself, although there is something a little devastating about demolishing the crackers right after you make them. Second, it must have real key lime juice, squeezed from actual key limes. No other kind of limes will do! Juice from a bottle won't do, even the fancy kind from Whole Foods or Manhattan brand. Those prepackaged juices end up tasting like metal, and no one likes metal pie. Third, that juice must go into a pie filling that is custard-like and pale yellow. Fourth, it must have a top layer of real whipped cream. I'm not a total freak here, begging you for organics and please-milk-your-own-cow and refine-your-own-sugar-from-the-sugarcane-you-grew-in-your-backyard. I'm just saying, follow these four basic bits of advice and you will have a pie that makes you proud to be from the Florida Keys. Or, um, Illinois. Or wherever.

So let's cut to the chase here, shall we? Okay. Get your apron on. You've got a pie to bake!

Key Lime Pie
adapted from Gourmet magazine, May 2003

Make yourself a crust:
1 1/4 C graham crackers (from 9 crackers)
1/2 C raw, unsalted almonds or macadamia nuts (or a combo of both!)
2 T sugar
6 T unsalted butter, melted
a little ginger powder or finely minced crystallized ginger (optional)
1/4 C shredded coconut, unsweetened (optional)

Preheat oven to 350 F.
In a food processor, whiz up the graham crackers and nuts. You don't want this stuff totally pulverized, so do it in short pulses. If you are using the coconut, whiz it up now. Pour the crumbs into a bowl and add the sugar, butter, and ginger (if using). Stir with a fork until well combined, and then press the mixture into the bottom and sides of a 9" glass pie pan. Bake crust in the middle of the oven for 10 minutes. Cool on a rack. Leave the oven on!

Make yourself some filling:
1 14-oz can sweetened condensed milk
4 large egg yolks
1/2 C plus 2 T key lime juice (this will be approximately 1 whole bag of limes)
lime zest from about 4 of the limes (more, or none, if you are so inclined)

Whisk together the condensed milk and yolks in a bowl. Add juice and whisk some more until combined well -- the mixture will thicken up a bit as you go). Pour filling into crust and bake for 15 minutes. Cool pie completely (filling will set up as the pie cools). Then chill the pie, covered, for at least 8 hours. The hardest part is waiting this long. It will be in everyone's best interest if you put this pie into the fridge and then go directly to bed so you can forget about it even existing.

Make yourself some topping:
3/4 C heavy cream
Just before serving, beat the cream in a bowl with a hand mixer until stiff peaks form. Apply to your delicious pie and serve to the people you love the most.

Apologies to the photo-lovers. I have not baked this pie since October of last year and I didn't manage to make one today. Sheesh, what is wrong with me?! I know, I know, I am worthless.
I'll see if maybe I can pull it together and make one sometime soon. See? Even more incentive to go make one yourself -- so you can finally see what it looks like!