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DRENE KIRK'S LEMON MERINGUE PIE 

 

 

My mum Drene used to make the most divine lemon merangue pie. I say used to because she has steadfastly refused to cook for anyone since Dad died in 1986. The former Doreen Kirk metamorphasised as the star of silverscreen and dance floor Drene Kirk in her teenage years, and of course not forgetting Miss Pit Top 1946. "I'm Doreen no more, I hate it, my sisters can stay Gladys and Cynthia but I've got my pride - you must all call me Drene".  My Grandad continued to call her "Our Dot", but the family members acquiesced, well most, the Yorkshire relatives stuck with Doreen, as was, and rightly so, "we'll not put up with that shenanigan up here". Drene and her sisters joined the Land Army and did their patriotic duty through farm work during the day and dancing the feet off the Allies at night. 

Drene met my dad Saint John McGloin, latterly of Bells Hill Scotland, but removed through seminary to Mill Hill, Kent, when he sported an RAAF uniform over the saint's garb. After a dance or three she invited him home for the lemon meringue pie - a sure fire never fail winner. And sooner or later that's where I came in. She maintains that it was not a Kirk recipe and that it was a packet mix but her memory is somewhat selective these days and besides I can't allow myself to believe that my rapture was achieved by Mrs Craddock's packet of powder. Anyway she had a rhyme celebrating the virtues of her pie: 

MY PIE BY DRENE

Some'll make goosegog

Some'll make an apple

Mine is a meringue

An' it's summat special

 

El merin-gue pie

Hot'n from the oven

Puts a smile on't dial

If you feel downtrodden

 

It'll banish all despair

Flattening your bunions

Sweetening your breath

After scoffing onions

 

Smooth away your warts

An' chase a hoary devil

Starting up your car

If your battery's buggered [so what smartie - up yours too !!!]

 

It'll ward off Mormons

Wicked witch's whispers

Droopy dripping dogs

And old Prime Min'sters

 

It'll shout at loonies

While unblocking drains

Appeasing the saints

And apportioning blame

 

Take you up to Heaven

To have a quick geek

Before you sign a lease

On Celestial Street

 

A pie  is just a pie?

Some might say that

Mine's a meringue

Not yer common crap

 

 

 

So, I've test driven a number of lemon meringue recipes, hundreds in fact and the one which most closely approximates Drene's heavenly offering is as follows:

1.75 cups caster sugar

4 tbls cornflour

1/2 tsp salt

4 tbls all-purpose flour

2 cups boiling water

4 large eggs separated

2 tbls butter

1/3 cup fresh lemon juice

grated lemon rind of 2 lemons

1/4 tsp cream of tartar

1/2 tsp vanilla extract

sheet of pastry

 

 

Place a sheet of pastry in a pie or casserole dish and bake according to instructions.

 

Combine 1.25 cups sugar, cornflour, salt and flour in saucepan and gradually pour in the boiling water while stirring. Place over medium heat and cook for ten mins while stirring. The mixture will thicken. Squash any lumps.

 

Slightly beat egg yokes and whisk in a small amount of the mixture. Mix it well and pour this yolk mix back into a saucepan. Cook over low heat while stirring for a couple of mins. Remove pan from heat and stir in butter, lemon juice and rind. Set aside to cool.

 

Preheat oven to 220c. Beat egg whites with cream of tartar until light and frothy. Gradually add remaining caster sugar and vanilla while beating. When stiff peaks form you have it, El meringue.

 

Shiela Ferguson in her great book on Southern US cuisine "Soul Food" gives her tip at this point and suggests that you put 4 tablespoons of meringue into the lemon mix to make lighten the filling and make it fluffy.

 

Spoon the lemon mix into the pie dish and spoon the meringue on top from centre outwards. Make the fluffy mountain peaks, you artist you.

 

Bake for about 6 mins then check to ensure the meringue isn’t burning. It needs to be rich sugary brown on the peaks. Alternatively place under the gorilla, Camilla, and watch the flotilla.

Let it cool slightly and serve with confidence, and a degree of smug satisfaction.