Valentine’s Day came and went, but the memory of the celebratory lemon meringue pie lingered.
There’d be no humble pie served. My recent baking labor of love, “The Ultimate Lemon Meringue Pie” (page 727 of Cook’s Illustrated Cookbook) earned two thumbs up from my cutie pie and SO (Significant Other), Mike.
Pie In The Sky Endeavor
Traditionally on Valentine’s Day we eschewed dining out for the holiday. Instead, we prepared an especially tasty dinner for each other with shared menu responsibilities. Mike grilled lobster and sautéed asparagus and I shook “Vampire Kiss” cocktails (They’re red, hence the selection.) and baked the aforementioned lemon meringue pie.
Last year we cooked the VD meal side by side which lead to bickering about the orientation of the ravioli wraps before filling. (We’re both a bit bossy in the kitchen and like to have a finger in every pie.) Abandoning that approach, we adopted a divided menu strategy. One assumed Executive Chef status for the course claimed. The other stood by as Sous Chef should a kitchen calamity occur.
Pie-Eyed Or Not?
Having claimed the dessert course, I planned on the lemon meringue confection, Mike’s favorite. What I hadn’t decided was whether or not it would be a surprise pie or an anticipated pie. Should I surprise Mike or tell him? You’d think this decision would be as easy as pie. I weighed the pros and cons.
Baking a surprise pie required surreptitiously purchasing the groceries, a doable task since the recipe required common ingredients that we mostly had on hand. (I needed extra lemons not imported Spanish lavender petals.) A window of “Mike-not-in-the-kitchen” time would be more difficult to procure. He puttered as much in the kitchen as he did in the garage. Had I pull off the shopping and baking part, storage presented a problem. Our one fridge offered no hiding place for a meringue pie. I needed to ask a neighbor for temporary pie accommodations.
The surprise option added a dash of sparkle to the dessert. I imagined myself beaming while I placed the “Ultimate Lemon Meringue Pie” in front of Mike who beamed back at me. However, if the pie making turned disastrous, I could scoop servings flanked with dark chocolate hearts into ramekins and christen it “Dear Heart Lemon Custard” with Mike no the wiser.
With an anticipated pie, neither of us would experience the thrill of surprise- me keeping the pie secret and Mike discovering it. Also, anticipation begot expectations which raised the stakes. (There would be no Dear Heart Lemon Custard coverup should a disaster occur.)
However, if Mike knew about my pie endeavor, I’d have kitchen priority, a bag of lemons that didn’t raise suspicion, and I‘d forgo the imposition of the neighbor’s extra refrigerator space.
Weary of my pie pondering, I chose an anticipated pie and told Mike my selection for the dessert course.
He beamed!
I beamed back!
Everyday Epiphany
After “Vampire Kiss” cocktails and a lobster dinner, I presented my pie and related the surprise vs anticipation decision. As he captured stray crust crumbs and a smear of lemon custard from his plate he said, “Right now I’m anticipating another piece of pie.”
Sometimes no matter how you slice the pie, it’s all good.
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A Few Choice Words By Anita 