I came home this evening and had a conversation with Tim, my husband. Now normally Tim is very talented in the kitchen, and I am not one to criticize his (usually) wonderful culinary endeavours. I’m not even going to say that this was a real mistake. It tasted very good (though a wee bit tart), and I will certainly go back for more. It’s just that the texture was a little… well, lacking. Effectively nonexistent. It was intended (I believe) to be a lemon meringue pie, but the bottom sort of failed to maintain its internal cohesion. So it wasn’t Tim that failed: it was the lemon base.
Pictures are at right, and on Flickr.
“What did I do wrong? What should I do the next time?” he asked. And I have to admit I was a bit surprised that he was even suggesting I might have an answer. I know I’m more of the desert guy between the two of us, but I haven’t done that many pies like this.
“Next time I would try more thickening agent,” I suggested.
“But it didn’t have none.” I smirked, and tried to hide it. He scowled, then listed off the ingredients.
“So I cooked it twenty minutes… and then for twenty more. After that, it still didn’t set, so I took the topping, poured it in, and mixed it all together. This was the result. I’d hoped for something lemon-fluffy. This is lemon soupy.”
I didn’t smirk. Really. I looked sadly at the semi-fluid pie in front of me, the sides slowly coalescing so that in a very few moments the place where we had taken our dessert was hardly visible.
“I think you might want to try a new recipe.”