Limey.

No photo, so take my word for it that yesterday’s lime pie, finally dolloped with concentric rings of softly (hand-) whipped cream and sprinkled with confectioner’s sugar and minced lime zest, its pale face circled with a russet collar of cookie-crumb crust (speculoos mixed with very similar almond wafers), looked rather pretty. My baked goods hardly ever look pretty — maybe handsome in an undecorated fashion, but not pretty — so I was pleased. And it tasted great, the tangy, soft, cool lime and cream a fine contrast with the crunchy, cinnamon-and-gingery crust. It went beautifully with the other dessert contribution at the dinner party, Camille’s lemon cake with raspberries.

I was inspired by this frozen lemon pie recipe from Everybody Likes Sandwiches, cross-referenced with Mark Bittman and Martha Stewart and a handful of other recipes. Citrus tarts using sweetened evaporated milk are legion, and not complex at their essence, though there are so many variations that this basic simplicity can be obscured.

The only other time I went to Ralph’s place it was for another dinner party and there too I brought cream, bowl, and whisk. That time it was a chocolate torte — the red wine cake, I think. He must think I’m obsessed with beating. The Four Freedoms monument on Roosevelt Island, now visible, clean and elegant, from Ralph’s terrace, had not then been built. Like all the best midtown views, his also includes other people’s terraces, watertowers, and the Chrysler Building.

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