COCONUT LIME PIE

This pie is my answer to the question, 'What is your favorite pie?'

It is unbelievably good. 

It is a pie I first tasted at a restaurant in LaJolla, CA about 20 years ago. The restaurant was called Epizote - after the earthy herb used in certain Latin-American dishes. It was one of the places to be for great Southwest food, and a restaurant I always looked forward to dining at when I traveled to LaJolla for business. Unfortunately, after many great years, the restaurant is no more. It changed owners and devolved into a disappointing mess - before finally having the courage to change names.


But I digress... It was on a beautiful night in February, when I sat on the open air rooftop patio, with a view of the Pacific and with space heaters providing some added warmth, that I applied my Johnson & Johnson expense account to a dinner that started with a top shelf margarita and ended with a slice of coconut lime pie. I didn't know what it was at that time, only that its name sounded good. But after tasting it and calling home to tell my wife how good it was, it became my holy quest to understand what it was I ate - and to find the recipe.

And here it is... This recipe comes not from Epizote, but from Mary Sue Milliken and Susan Feniger, owner chefs of the Border Grill in Santa Monica. I am told the recipe was featured on an episode of their TV show called, Too Hot Tamales, but I did not see it. I firmly believe it is the pie I ate - but if not, who cares. It is as good as I remember the pie to be and it provides the same sweet salvation to me now as I remember receiving at the restaurant some 20 years ago.

So to Mary Sue and Susan, I toast you! And want to tell you that I am forever grateful for this little heart clogging treasure.

COCONUT LIME PIE

crust

1 cup sugar cookie crumbs

3 cups sweetened shredded coconut

1 ½ tablespoon unsalted butter, melted

lime curd

4 tablespoons unsalted butter

3/4 cup freshly squeezed lime juice

3/4 cup sugar

2 tablespoons cornmeal

Pinch of salt

6 egg yokes

meringue

4 egg whites

1/2 cups sugar

1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar

Finely grated zest of 1 lime    

Combine cookie crumbs, coconut and melted butter. Press approximately half of mixture onto bottom and up sides of 10 inch pie dish, building the sides to form an edge. Reserve remaining mixture for topping the pie.

Combine 4 tablespoons butter, lime juice, cornmeal, salt and 3/4 cup sugar in large metal bowl set over pot of simmering water - or, if you have the..., cook it over an moderate open flame. Cook slowly, scraping sides of bowl and whisking occasionally until the sugar dissolves and the corn meal softens and involves itself with the lime juice (10-15 minutes). 

Temper the 6 egg yolks by pouring some of the liquid into them while stirring, then return the egg-lime mixture to the pot all at once and cook, whisking occasionally until thickened, another 10- 15 minutes. The corn meal will assist in preventing the eggs from curdling. Remove from heat and cool, either directly in a water bath or in the refrigerator (press plastic wrap onto surface if you go this route). Either way, whisk occasionally.

Preheat oven to 275 degrees F. 

Beat egg whites, cream of tartar and 1/2 cup sugar until stiff and glossy. Gently fold 1/2 of beaten whites into lime curd. Then fold the remaining 1/2 along with the lime zest.

Pour filling into pie shell and sprinkle with reserved topping, mounding from the rim towards the middle and covering evenly (or leaving the center bare, like the eye of a hurricane). Bake 45-55 minutes, until pie has risen and coconut is golden brown. (The filling should be slightly cracked and firm when pressed in the center). Cool completely. Cover with plastic and refrigerate until well chilled, at least 6 hours or overnight.


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[cooks notes: first, I apologize for the picture. I am not happy with it but didn't realize how bad it was... until the pie was gone. Eaten. Second, the picture shows a little meringue puff in the middle - I had some leftover meringue and threw it on top. In my opinion, it is superfluous, but since I had extra, (having whipped up all 6 whites with a little more sugar), I added some more to the remaining coconut-cookie crumb mixture before piling on top. Again, not necessary and somewhat of a dumb move. Not that it subtracted from the taste - just that it made the crumbs clump up and look less attractive.]

LETTER TO HELEN

Someday you will read this. Some day when you have grown and I am gone.

I never got to know my grandfather, except through a few black and white photographs. And what my mom told me about him. But I didn't want that to be the only way you knew of me. I want the words I leave and the pictures I leave to speak to you for me.

Today I want to tell you about the first time we were alone together. When I felt comfortable enough to babysit you by myself and your parents were trusting enough to depend on me.

We only had a short time together - before you fell asleep - because that is what a 5 month old girl does after her noontime bottle. But we had a wonderful hour together.

After your mom mom left for work, I was in charge. I was hoping it would go well and you didn't let me down. You were able to communicate with me - both in your own way like all babies do, but also in a strange way - one that you couldn't master yet, but you tried. You seemed to try to speak in a language you did not have yet and to relay thoughts that you could not have thought yet.

One of the thoughts you did communicate was you let me know you were hungry. So I fed you 5 ounces of your bottle, and that seemed to take care of things. And since it was a beautiful day, I decided to take you outside.

Mom mom left a couple things for me - she was making sure I was equipped. There was a towel, which I guess was supposed to serve as a blanket if you went out. So I threw it over you even though I didn't think you needed it. And then there was this conversation I remember about being careful when I pulled your long sleeve outfit over your head. I guess she thought I was going to treat you like the lawn mower or something and pull the thing until your head popped off. Silly mom mom. I didn't see a need to change your shirt. The day was so pleasant.

So I put you in you stroller, which you were mostly OK with, and we went out the back door.

We went off-road first, into the back yard, but that didn't seem like a good idea, so we turned around and went to the front yard,  parking under the big silver maple tree - until I got concerned that the breeze might knock a branch down. So we moved over a little, under the dogwood. I positioned you so the sun was not in your eyes but you could have the full view of the trees - with their green leaves so high, and the sky looking so blue and peaceful.

We had no other plan. I just wanted to let you take things in. You looked around, your blue eyes focusing on the blue sky, and we looked for monarchs passing overhead, on their flight to Mexico.


After a short time, we moved to the front porch and I pulled you out to sit with me. I showed you the planter of flowers that I grew - huge impatiens in reds and oranges and fuchsia.

I let you grab a handful because you wanted to experience them for yourself. I don't know if you realized that you were so young, that even these flowers were older than you.

You had a small yellow birch leaf in your hand for a while, which you seemed to like too. Everything was new and everything was to be learned. And I was happy to be there with you to take your hand and help you to learn.

You seemed happy. Content. We were feeling as peaceful as the September day. Of course, one of us became interested in chewing on her toes. I tried to reach my toes, but I could not. I could a few years ago... maybe I just need to do some stretching now.

After a while, I put you back in your stroller and we sat a little longer. You had a lot to say to me and you blew some bubbles too. Then after a short while, it seemed your language got a little testy - which I translated into a request for more to eat. So I fixed up another 3 ounces and fed you on the couch in the living room - the one that mom mom likes to sit at when she feeds you. You fell asleep before you finished.

I burped you and took you upstairs for a nap. You fussed for about 10 seconds and then zonked out. Over the next hour, I checked several times to make sure you were ok (because nothing was going wrong on my watch!) and sooner than I wanted, your father was here to pick you up and take you home.

Because you were groggy, we didn't say good bye. But it didn't matter because I knew I would see you again shortly.

Here is a movie I took of you earlier that day. I call it your swimmy movie. You looked just like your mom looked when she was learning to crawl almost 35 years earlier. It's hard to express all that this makes me feel but I think someday you'll experience it yourself and understand.