Lemon Meringue

My Meyer lemon tree is blooming. The flowers fill the room with their sweet scent, as though a Gardena blossom was floating in vanilla extract. The tree spent the spring and summer on the deck soaking up the sun and rain and now that I have moved it indoors for the winter it is covered with white blossoms and buds. I can only hope that some of the blossoms will become plump, juicy, thin skinned lemons that I can juice and use in pie.

Lemon meringue pie has been a favorite in my family for as long as I can remember. It often shows up at Thanksgiving, Easter, and birthdays. My Dad and uncles, my maternal grandmother, my aunt, my cousin, and most recently, my husband all counted it as one of their favorite pies. The components of lemon meringue pie – pastry crust, lemon curd, and egg whites whipped with sugar—have all been around for centuries, but it was not until the 19th century that recipes for the pie as we know it today started appearing.

I found this note in my Grandmother Emma’s collection of recipes. I think those ingredients would make one very ‘lean’ lemon custard pie. One of my personal critiques of many lemon pies is that the filling tastes too much like cornstarch. My second problem is keeping the meringue from ‘weeping’ (little tears of syrup form on the surface after baking). After many years of research I have found a filling recipe with which I am happy but I still occasionally get a meringue that weeps. I blame it on our humidity and try to serve the pie as soon after baking as possible.


The Best Lemon Meringue Pie…so far

One 9 inch deep dish pie crust, baked


Filling:

4 large egg yolks

3 large eggs

¾ cup fresh lemon juice

1 cup granulated sugar

2 Tablespoons cornstarch

A pinch of salt

½ cup (1 stick) unsalted chilled butter, cut into small pieces

Combine the eggs and additional yolks in a small non-reactive sauce pan. Stir in the lemon juice. Combine the sugar, cornstarch, and salt in a small bowl. Stir into the yolk and juice mixtures. Cook over low heat, stirring constantly until thick enough to coat the back of a spoon. Do not allow to boil. Remove from heat. Stir in butter a piece at a time until it is all incorporated. Pour mixture into the crust.


Italian Meringue:

½ cup sugar

2 Tablespoons water

4 large egg whites

½ teaspoon cream of tartar

½ teaspoon vanilla extract

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
Put a one cup heatproof liquid measuring cup near the stove.
In a small heavy saucepan combine the sugar and water. Heat, stirring constantly, until the sugar dissolves and the syrup is bubbling. Stop stirring and turn the heat down to very low.

Using a stand mixer and the whisk attachment beat the egg whites until foamy. Add the cream of tartar and beat until stiff peaks form when the beater is raised.

Increase the heat under the syrup and boil until large bubbles start to break all over the surface. A thermometer will read 236 degrees (soft ball stage). Immediately pour the syrup into the glass measuring cup to stop the cooking.

Pour a small amount of the syrup over the egg whites while the mixer is off. Immediately beat at high speed 5 seconds. Stop the mixer and add more syrup. Beat 5 seconds. Continue with the remaining the syrup scraping out the last with a rubber scraper. Continue beating on high speed for about 2 to 3 minutes until the bowl is no longer hot.

Spread the meringue on top of the filling starting at the outside edge, pushing the meringue into the crust edge and making decorative swirls and peaks.

Bake the pie about 10 minutes until the meringue is golden. Cool to room temperature and serve as soon as possible. Refrigerate leftovers if there are any.

Happy 95th

Last Sunday was my Mom’s ninety-fifth birthday. That was the cake I made for her. The bottom layer was chocolate, the middle layer was vanilla cheesecake, and the top layer was raspberry-- all iced in raspberry buttercream. There is not a crumb left.

She held court at a party for 45 of her relatives and friends.

Her niece, Kay and her grand-niece Emma, surprised her with a carrot cake made to look like a chicken sitting on its nest of eggs. Mom has a fondness for chickens that began when she was a girl as you can see from this photo taken about 1920.

We all wish you much love and many happy returns of the day, Ellen.

Doughnut Traditions

Halloween has always been a bust at my house.
Growing up on a farm with your nearest neighbor about half a mile away put a damper on trick-or-treating. The few times I did dress up and go door to door were with city friends in their neighborhoods. Hay rides were no novelty either. I spent too many hot summer days stacking bales on a wagon to enjoy a ride around the field in the fall very much. Haunted barns, well… I am under the impression I own one, but all the spirits are friendly.

My family’s biggest Halloween tradition comes from my Mom. She insists that Halloween is not celebrated correctly unless someone in the family makes doughnuts from scratch. For the past few years that duty has fallen on my shoulders. This year as I was kneading, rolling, and frying I started wondering how she ever got the idea that doughnuts and Halloween were connected. All Mom remembers is the recipe and that it was a tradition in her very German-American family so I decided to do some research.

Germans do have a doughnut tradition but it is associated with Fasching the equivalent of Mardi Gras. As part of the festivities on Shrove Tuesday and in preparation for a Lenten fast, thrifty Germans use up their eggs, sugar, and fat by making doughnuts called Fastnachts. I was still puzzled about how my family moved this late winter tradition in Germany to Halloween in America until I discovered more about some of the Fasching festivities.

In the parts of Germany from which my ancestors emigrated the carnival atmosphere of celebration included the custom of dressing up as demons, witches, earthly spirits, and dreadful animals to enact symbolic scenes of the expulsion of winter and death so there is room for spring and life. So doughnuts, demons, and witches at Fasching in Germany immigrated to Halloween in America.

These doughnuts warm from the frying pan with a dusting of cinnamon sugar are heavenly. Krispy Kremes are a ghostly shadow in comparison.

Raised Doughnuts

1 Package active dry yeast (1 ½ teaspoons)

¼ cup warm water (about 105 degrees)

1 egg

2 Tablespoons sugar

1/3 cup butter, melted

¾ cup milk, warmed to about 105 degrees

1 teaspoon salt

4 cups bread flour

Sprinkle yeast on warm water and stir. Allow to stand a few minutes until it is bubbly. Combine egg, sugar, butter and warm milk in the bowl of a mixer with the dough hook attachment. Add about half of the flour and combine until smooth then add the rest of the flour and the salt and continue kneading until the dough is smooth and elastic about 7 to 9 minutes. Spray a large bowl with cooking spray and place the dough in it, turning once to coat all sides. Cover and let rise in a warm place, 80 to 85 degrees. I put the dough in the oven of my gas range because the pilot light keeps it warm. Allow the dough to double, about one hour. Roll the dough out on a floured surface to 3/8 of an inch thickness. Cut with a 2 ½ inch round cutter.

Place the doughnuts and holes on a greased cookie sheet. Cover and let rise again until doubled, about half an hour.

Fry a few at a time in vegetable oil, I prefer canola oil, about 2 inches deep at 375 degrees. I also like to fry them in my 12 inch diameter cast iron skillet.

Drain on paper towels. While the doughnuts are still warm shake them in a brown paper bag filled with cinnamon sugar or plain granulated sugar. This recipe makes about two dozen. I usually double the recipe because they freeze well if there are any left after the demons, witches, and dreadful animals have their fill.