Tag: dessert
Atlantic Beach Pie: Crunchy And Creamy At Once

Atlantic Beach Pie: Crunchy And Creamy At Once

By Marlene Parrish, Pittsburgh Post-Gazette (TNS)

Some pies are easy to bake, and some aren’t.

The Atlantic Beach Pie is an easy-peasy dessert to make. It has a filling similar to those in Key lime and lemon meringue pies, but the dense, crispy, thick, salty saltine crust is the secret weapon because it is such an amazing balance to the tanginess and sweetness of the filling.

Chef Bill Smith is head honcho at Crook’s Corner, a restaurant on the North Carolina coast. He doesn’t take credit for inventing the pie, which is often referred to as “lemon pie” in those parts. In Smith’s version, real whipped cream replaces meringue as the topping. But economical home cooks who shudder at the thought of lemon pie without meringue, almost as much as discarding the whites, can add the whipped topping with little effort.

There’s also a bit of lore that surrounds the dessert.

“When we were growing up, everybody believed that if you ate any kind of dessert after having seafood, you would drop dead sick,” Smith says. “The one exception was this lemon pie that all the fish restaurants along the coast served.”

The pie’s simplicity is its appeal. Smith jokes that it takes all of four seconds to make. In reality, it’s 18 minutes to bake the crust and 16 minutes to cook the filling.
“You don’t have to wait for the crust to cool,” he says. “The only thing that takes any time is, the finished pie has to cool enough when you’re done so you can cut it without making a mess. But it couldn’t be faster to put together.”

Some things to remember:

–Crush the saltines with a rolling pin or empty wine bottle. You want tiny flaky pieces. Do not use a food processor or your crackers will turn to dust before you can say, “Fail.”

–Eggs separate easier when they are cold, whip better when they are warm.

–The pie works because each forkful is a luscious combination of sweet, tart and salt flavors, with a texture that’s at once crispy and velvety. If you pair it with a cup of coffee, a bitter note seals the deal.

Now, go make an Atlantic Beach Pie.

Atlantic Beach Pie

The easiest (and least messy) way to make crumbs is to put the crackers in a plastic bag, seal it and whack with a rolling pin. You will have about 2 1/2 to 3 cups of cracker crumbs. Do not use a food processor.

1 1/2 sleeves original saltine crackers (not unsalted, whole wheat, etc.)
1/2 cup butter, at room temperature
3 tablespoons sugar
4 egg yolks
1 (14 ounces) can sweetened condensed milk
1/2 cup lemon juice (about 4 juicy lemons)
Whipped cream or meringue (see recipe)
Coarse-grain sea salt

In a large plastic bag, crush crackers with your hands. Then roll and whack with a rolling pin until pieces are pea-sized or smaller (you want a chunky meal, not a fine crumb). Add butter and sugar, and knead with your hands until crumbs begin to stick together. Things will be crumbly, that’s OK.

Press crust on the bottom, up the sides and onto the rim of 9-inch pie plate. Carefully place the crust in the refrigerator and chill for 15 minutes, then immediately bake at 350 degrees for 15 minutes. Remove crust from oven, and place on a rack.

Once the crust is out of the oven, make the filling (not sooner as it will begin to set once you mix it up).

To make the filling, combine egg yolks, sweetened condensed milk and lemon juice. Mix until smooth with electric mixer on medium speed or a large whisk.

Spread filling into crust; the crust does not have to be cooled. (If you like meringue, whip it up, top the pie and bake at this point.)

Bake at 350 degrees for 15-17 minutes or until set.

Cool for 30 minutes at room temperature, then refrigerate for 4-6 hours or until pie is completely chilled. Serve with real whipped cream sprinkled with coarse-grain sea salt.

Meringue (optional):

If you’d like to use meringue instead of whipped cream, top filled, but unbaked pie with meringue.
4 egg whites

1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar

Pinch of salt
1/2 cup sugar

Beat egg whites with cream of tartar and salt on medium-high speed with an electric mixer for 1-2 minutes, or until soft peaks form when beaters are raised.

Gradually beat in sugar, { tablespoon at a time, until stiff glossy peaks form, and sugar is dissolved.

Spoon meringue onto filling and spread to edge of crust to seal well and prevent meringue from shrinking.

Bake at 350 degrees for about 18 minutes or until meringue is set and peaks are golden brown.

Cool for 30 minutes at room temperature, then refrigerate for 4-6 hours or until pie is completely cold. Sprinkle with coarse-grain sea salt to serve. Makes one 9-inch pie.

–Adapted from chef Bill Smith of Crook’s Corner in Chapel Hill, N.C.

Photo by Sebastian Bassi via Flickr

Are You A Pie Person Or A Cake Person? You Can’t Be Both

Are You A Pie Person Or A Cake Person? You Can’t Be Both

By Daniel Neman, St. Louis Post-Dispatch (TNS)

I always thought Simon got a raw deal.

Here he was, minding his own business, on his way to a fair. He encounters a man selling pies–tempting, delicious pies. Naturally, he asks for a sample. Who wouldn’t?

But the pie man, whose name has apparently been lost to history, was having none of it. He wanted to charge Simon for a sample, unlike so many of today’s grocery stores that offer samples for free. Simon did not have a penny to spare–fairs aren’t cheap–so the pie man sent him on his way, hungry and forlorn.

And for this, Simon has universally come to be known as Simple. Obviously, Mother Goose was a cake person.

There are two kinds of people in this world, pie people and cake people. You’re either one or the other. Never have I heard anyone say, “I like cakes and pies equally,” and I’ll bet neither have you.

Personally, I’m in Simple Simon’s camp. It’s pies all the way. Just think of it: A buttery crust baked to a golden brown and filled with toasted pecans suspended in a sweet amber nectar. Or sweet cherries balanced by just the right amount of tartness. Or smooth and silken chocolate topped with a decadent dollop of whipped cream.

On the other hand, you have cake. It’s just cake. Pedestrian, ordinary, sponge-like, bland cake.

And cakes often come out of a box. Even the ones that don’t come out of a box sometimes taste like they came out of a box. Sometimes they taste like the box.
Yes, the frosting is good. I’m all in favor of frosting. If only you could put it on something that wasn’t cake.

Pies are always festive and special; they are a party unto themselves. But you can buy a cake in a sheet.

Newsrooms are particularly fond of sheet cakes; in some respects, newsrooms are a sheet cake’s natural habitat. This particular newsroom has ordered so many sheet cakes from Federhofer’s Bakery that some people here use “federhofer” as a verb, as in “We’ll be federhofering Joe in the front of the newsroom at 4 p.m.”

Any occasion at all becomes an occasion for a sheet cake. You’re having a birthday? Have some sheet cake. You’re retiring early so that other employees won’t be laid off? That’s remarkably selfless and generous of you. Thank you so much. Have some sheet cake.

Sheet cakes just don’t seem terribly celebratory anymore. Maybe it’s the repetition, but I think it is more that they are just cakes. Meanwhile, Federhofer’s also makes sheet pies, in case anyone was wondering.
Even in their smaller versions, pies win out every time. Mini tarts? Great. Cupcakes? Overpriced trendy treats.

The greatest non-pie expression of pies is chicken pot pie, so creamy, delicious and flaky that, when made right, it can actually have more calories than a real pie.

In contrast, the greatest non-cake expression of cakes is a pancake. Admittedly, pancakes are wonderful. Even pie people love pancakes. Call it a wash.

Oh, wait. Pizza also comes in a pie. Advantage, pie.

I’m sure some cake people are perfectly nice. A little bland, perhaps, but nice. They are probably well-intentioned. Their hearts are likely in the right place.

But pie people are where it’s at. We’re exciting, dynamic, vibrant. We don’t need to call cake people “Simple” just to feel better about ourselves.

Photo by Jirka Matousek via Flickr