Remember the scare mongering news stories about lime shortages a few years back? They spelled the end of Latin cuisine looming large in a post-citrus apocalypse sure to arrive within months. Everything from El Nino to drug cartels had conspired to create the perfect storm over supply lines from Mexico and points south. The price of what I consider perhaps the most useful and versatile fruit in the kitchen quadrupled in just a few short months. I can remember asking prices over $2 each which will put a crimp in anyone’s guacamole. No wonder Mexican food is so scarce up here. Thankfully it seems those doomsayers were wrong and our collective lime fates have been redeemed because I just found them on sale for a whopping twenty-three cents each at my local Megastore. I couldn’t resist my citrus urges and bought two dozen. Salsa to fajitas to desserts, I can always find useful places for their tart juicy goodness. It’s lime fiesta time up in here.
Pies don’t get much easier than “Key lime”, especially if you skip the Florida marketing council and squeeze six “ordinary limes” instead of forty of their tiny cousins. I don’t even bake my filling because it’s just not needed if you use gelatin or agar as the setting agent. That frees you from including eggs which are the only ingredient that would need the heat. While a proper egg custard here can be delicious, I eat lime pie for edgy bang, not smooth comfort. I also like a hefty crust for balance with tangy lime filling so my recipe gives you slightly more graham cracker material to work with than usual but don’t go overboard unless you want the dreaded crust slump in the oven. Preventing that is mostly about the butter/sugar/cracker ratio and mine works in all but the worst of humidity.
For a bit of lime history, you have to look to Asia where most species originated but very soon after migrated and hybridized across the planet, notably to Central and South America as well as the Caribbean. Persian species are the incredibly handy and mostly seedless sort seen widely in supermarkets although they’re now grown globally from Mexico to Australia. The famous “Key limes” are about a fifth the size and have thinner skins but more pips. Curiously, back room political agreements from fruit lobbyists now allow supplies grown most anywhere in the Americas rather than only from their namesake Florida Keys to carry the name “Key Limes” which is nearly the opposite of protected statuses you see on artisan produce and products elsewhere on the food-smart planet. While their juice is indeed a bit sweeter, in the context of a highly sugared pie I doubt anyone would ever taste the difference. In fact, I might want a more tart lime here for that very same reason.
I’ve tested this recipe side-by-side using both types of limes and the results are almost indistinguishable. The main point is simply to get plenty of either fresh-squeezed example into the mix. And no, you can’t take this to mean that pre-bottled rubbish juice will do – no matter how fancy the label was when you picked it up in Miami on holiday last year. Besides, you need the zest off genuine fruit to add extra punch and colour. You’re also in pretty flavourless waters if you try this with non-fat cream cheese. What would the point of that be, eh? If you’re counting that many calories I suggest a brisk walk with decent pie afterwards.
Not-From-The-Keys Lime Pie
For the crust:
250g graham crackers *
50 grams (1/4 cup) sugar
1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
75 grams (~ 6 tablespoons) unsalted butter, melted
* Don’t ask me how many crackers that is because the sizes and shapes vary across borders. Weight is the only way to get the butter ratios correct. Don’t you keep your scale on the counter like all smart cooks?
Preheat the oven to 375F (190C). In a food processor with standard cutting blade fitted, grind the graham crackers to a fine meal. Add the sugar and salt and then with the machine running, drizzle in the butter until the consistency of wet sand is achieved. Move to a nine-inch pie dish and scatter loosely over the entire bottom with slightly more around the edges. Using the flat bottom of a glass or measuring cup, tamp the mix gently at first to ensure even coverage then more firmly to set the bottom crust. Using the same method and edge of your tool, firmly press up the sides of the dish. Be sure to press those edges very firmly to avoid slumping in the bake. Bake for 12-18 minutes or until the crust is lightly browned and aromatic. Remove and allow to cool completely. Did you hear me? I said completely. Don’t try to cheat time; it will only take that much longer to set unless you want lime soup for dessert.
For the pie:
Zest of two Persian limes, finely grated
225 ml (1 cup) freshly squeezed lime juice (roughly six Persian limes)
7 grams (1 tablespoon) gelatin or equivalent vegetarian option (e.g. agar agar)
50g (1/4 cup) sugar
227g (8 ounces) regular or low fat cream cheese
300 ml (396g or 14 ounces, about 1 1/4 cup) sweetened condensed milk *
1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
* Tin size and units of measure seem to vary widely across borders. In Canada I find “short” 300ml stocks but your local configurations on the shelf might vary.
Zest and juice your limes first. Warm the juice for twenty seconds in the microwave and add the gelatin or similar, stirring to dissolve completely. Allow to bloom for three minutes on the counter while you proceed below. Don’t let it sit much longer unless you want lime gummy candies. You can recover from unexpected interruptions with a short burst in the microwave but that never seems to set quite as well as the first gel.
In a food processor or high speed blender, pulse the sugar and zest to combine evenly. Add all remaining ingredients including the juice and blend until smooth. Transfer to the cooled pie crust and refrigerate for at least four hours to set. Overnight would be even better. Toss more lime zest into freshly whipped cream and sugar to top the whole affair if you’re feeling particularly indulgent.
V.6.0
