Skip to main content

Lemon Icebox Pie...um, Variation

This is what's left of the pie I baked using Martha Foose's Lemon Icebox Pie recipe found in Screen Doors and Sweet Tea. I found the recipe while reading a persuasive article by Francis Lam at Salon, and I bought the book soon after.

If the author of this book and creator of the recipe were to see my photo here, she'd say, "Why honey, bless your heart." If you're southern, you understand the tone and the sentiment of such a statement. It means, "You poor thing. You really did try hard, didn't you. It's OK. You'll do better next time, but we won't tell you that you've failed because we don't want to hurt your feelings."

There is a world of meaning in the phrase "bless your heart." Here's why I, and my pie, deserve it.

I was so eager to bake this pie because I haven't had one like it in years. It was like something brand new to me, even though I've baked similar pies many times. And I love lemon. I set out all of the ingredients in the order in which I would need them. I made the crust as instructed and put in the oven, and while it baked, I mixed the remaining ingredients in a big, plastic bowl. As instructed, I poured the filling into the crust and wondered why I had so much left over. I quickly determined my pie plate was not deep enough to hold it all, and I would simply have to pour the leftover stuff down the disposal. A more think-on-your-feet kind of person would have saved it and made another pie, but not me. Down it went.

As I went back to the recipe to confirm the baking time, I discovered my error. If you notice in my previous paragraph, I mixed "the remaining ingredients," when in actuality, I was not to mix the two cups of heavy cream with all the rest. You're supposed to whip that separately, and after the pie has cooled, you top it with the whipped cream and chill for an hour.

Well, what to do. I decided such a pie would not bake in 10 minutes and would need longer to set, so I doubled the baking time. That seemed to do the trick as far as creating proper consistency, but what about the flavor? And what about adding an additional pile of whipped cream to a pie that was already ridiculously rich? To heck with it, I decided, and left it as is.

As you can see, we ate the thing anyway. It had plenty of flavor, I think, and the consistency was firm enough to make each piece look like a slice of pie, instead of a pile of pudding, which is what I was afraid of.

The lesson here is to not let your enthusiasm get in the way of the task at hand, and if I bake this pie again, I'll be sure to follow the instructions to the letter.

Comments

dive said…
I'm amazed you actually had a slice left over, Robyn. It looks delicious!

You know full well you did not get her recipe wrong; you got YOUR recipe right! Variety is the spice of life so variation is a good thing.

Popular posts from this blog

Cindy Loo Who In October

What is it with people and Cindy Loo Who? Of my last one hundred blog hits, forty have been direct visits from regular readers, and fifteen have been as a result of people searching for "Cindy Loo Who," the little pixie from Seuss's How The Grinch Stole Christmas . A couple of years ago, I posted an image of the original Seuss illustration as compared to the TV cartoon image, and for some reason, that post is bringing in the crowds, relatively. Maybe it's the weather. It isn't even November yet, and already we've had frost and have had to dust off our winter coats. When it gets cold like this, I start to think about Christmasy things like listening to Nat King Cole and decorating the tree. It's ironic because I am offended when retailers start pushing holiday stuff early, but I don't mind my own private celebrations. When my sister and I were much younger and still living with our parents, we would pick a day in July, close the curtains to darken the ...

The Ultimate Storyteller—in Life AND in Death

I wrote about The Autobiography of Mark Twain in yesterday's edition of Small Town Newspaper. You can read it here , if you want. This is the photograph I had in mind while I read Clemens' dictations. He really was a masterful storyteller, even when rambling on about the poorly designed door knobs in Florence or in describing the Countess Massiglia, who he described as a "pestiferous character." About her, he said, “She is excitable, malicious, malignant, vengeful, unforgiving, selfish, stingy, avaricious, coarse, vulgar, profane, obscene, a furious blusterer on the outside and at heart a coward.” And I laughed out loud.