ISSUE 25, CITRUS, Part 5: Orange Pie

Why did Lemon Pie Prevail?

Orange Pie Front, Lemon Pie Back

The Orange Pie Conundrum

Once there was a pair of cousins, alike as southern cousins could be, except one was a sunshine blonde the other a redhead.  They both debuted to great acclaim in the 1830s, and their virtues were often written up together.  You know the personality—a combination of sass and sweet, acid and sugar.  Few could resist.  Even when they upgraded in the 1870s with French fashion, both embraced the same sort of decoration.  Yet a funny thing happened then—the blonde—let’s call her lemon meringue--went viral.  People all around the country became her devotees.  The red head—let’s call her orange meringue—had a few loyal fans, all regional.  Why no national breakout?

OK my story is a set up for my July 4th culinary experiment.  I’ve frequently read the praises of orange pie (or orange pudding as it was originally called), spanning the 19th and appearing periodically in the 20th century.  Yet I’ve never been served orange pie in a restaurant—not even in Florida.  While lemon meringue pie is everywhere.  Why did orange pie become a rare regional home dish while lemon meringue became a diner staple?

So Luci and I are cooking both for July 4th and we will taste comparatively with our neighbors.  I think one issue is that lemon has one default lemon taste; varieties of lemon hardly inflect the flavor.  The acid/sugar play in lemon pie is dialectically profound and simple.  Orange varieties have decidedly different flavors—the sour Seville, the pungent Blood, the tropical Pineapple, the vibrant Naval, the mellow Parson Brown.  Only the sour Seville supplies the same direct clash of sass and sweet.  So I’m going to make my first orange pie using a classic recipe, using whatever orange the grocery supplies—and lemon pie with the same standard issue.  We’ll get into varieties at a later date. 

There were many recipes from the 1840s to the 1940s. It appeared in important books, such as Sarah Rutledge’s The Carolina Housewife (1847):

The prevailing recipe until the meringue binge of the 1870s-1880s was this for the orange pie:

Orange Pie                  Abbeville Press and Banner

Grated rind and juice of two oranges, four eggs, four tablespoonfuls of sugar and one of butter, and one pink of milk.  Bake with only one crust and meringue for the top (4).

Look familiar?  Yes it’s the basic recipe for the lemon pie as well.  We’ll do this with the meringue as well.

Report to come after the holiday!

[JULY 5, 2019]

Pie Wars: Orange Meringue v. Lemon Meringue the verdict

By the time the contestants came to ringside, on a stormy July 4th evening, the anticipation had whipped to a near hysteria. This was a big one. Up there with Godzilla v. Mothra and Pumpkin v. Sweet Potato.

All holiday long while the thermometer registered temps in the high 90s outside, down in the cool culinary bunker below 751 Albion Road in Columbia SC Luci Shields plied her mixing bowls, egg beaters, rind shredders, and dough prickers.

We had settled on two recipes published in mid-20th century southern newspapers. These had been determined by several stipulations: no double boilers, no food coloring, no adding lemon juice to an orange meringue mix for kick (sort of defeats the idea of a distinct orange pie doesn't it). Both recipes used corn starch as a thickener--standard 20th century practice superseding the old flour milk egg custards of the 19th century. (Every lemon meringue pie I've tasted at every diner used cornstarch.) The orange meringue recipe eluded the problem of insipid orange juice, and hence the need to add lemon juice for kick, but using frozen orange juice concentrate (half a 12 oz container) that was thawed and added to the mix. Let's just say that 1950s kitchen hack worked.

The lemon pie's meringue had cream of tartar and took 15 minutes to cook at 350 degrees. The orange pie's meringue did not use cream of tartar and took 5 minutes to cook at 400 degrees. Luci liked the latter.

The pies were tested at the July 4th burger bash at the Meltons down the street with 6 consumers. Verdict: 3 preferred orange, 2 preferred lemon. And the person whose judgment matter most, Luci, was not entirely satisfied with either (she liked both, but said both can be better).

Split decision.