Friday, April 16, 2004
Lemon Meringue Pie
A morality tale, of sorts. I made my fourth lemon meringue pie Wednesday. I actually made two-thirds of it: crust and meringue. Time was running short between children's choir practice and our dinner guest's arrival, so I fell back on canned lemon filling. Anyway, I was thinking about an incident from my deep childhood.
My mother is a great baker. Every pie she ever made was excellent -- at least the pies in my memory were. But she didn't like to make lemon meringues. Dad loved them as he did mincemeat pies, but the mincemeats came rolling out of her oven in comparison.
One summer, a neighbor sent us a lemon meringue pie. I told Mom, "This is delicious, but you can do better." So next week, she did: lemon flavor so rich and crust so tender ... heavenly. Then my dad made the Fatal Error. He said, "This is nice, honey, but the filling is kind of runny, don't you think?" My antennae started quivering. I looked at my sister. We were stone silent. But our minds were racing. "Dad. Stop. No. We'll never get another lemon meringue pie as long as you live." Then it came.
Mom said that if her pie was so deficient, he could just ask his friend down the street for his next lemon meringue pie, because she wasn't making him one. Ever again.
(No, Dad, no. Why did you blow it? Why, why, why?)
Actually, Mom eventually made more lemon meringue pies, but not too many. I think the moratorium lasted four or five years. Now that I've realized you can mix pastry dough in the food processor, I plan to make more pies this summer.
