Page 54 of Sunsets at the Beach House

“I do.”

She lifted the pie. “Well, that’s what I’ve brought you. I’m really hoping, and I know this is a lot to ask, that maybe Mrs. Butter’s Bakery could bring this pie back to the Florida consciousness. It used to be more popular than key lime.”

“Really?”

She nodded as they walked into the kitchen together. “Yes. And these oranges, which are also known as Sevilles, were brought to Florida by the Spanish.”

“Is that right? I haven’t made a mojo in a while, but there’s sour orange juice in that. Well, there is in some of the versions.”

She nodded. “They do get used in some savory dishes, too. And they’re big in marmalade.” She put the pie on the counter. “Ready to taste?”

“I am. But first, do you want to stay for dinner?”

“I can’t. My mom and her boyfriend are cooking for us tonight.”

“Isn’t that nice.”

“Maybe.” Claire smiled. “I don’t know what they’re making yet. Just kidding—I’m sure it’ll be great.”

He laughed as he got a big knife out of the drawer and handed it over. “I’ll grab a plate, too.”

“And two forks. I haven’t tasted the finished product yet myself.”

“Will do.”

Claire cut him a slice, praying it held together and that the meringue wasn’t weepy and that it tasted even better than she’d built it up to taste. She used the flat of the knife to lift the slice out and place it on the plate he’d brought over.

It held together. The meringue was firm. And the aroma made her mouth water.

“That smells fantastic,” he said. “And the color is really eye-catching. You don’t see a lot of orange pies.”

“No, you don’t. None I can think of, really.”

“I like that,” he said. “It’ll make people stop and take a second look. Always a good thing.” He stuck his fork in and took off the pointed end. He put the bite in his mouth and chewed.

While he did that, she helped herself to a taste as well.

She knew instantly it was good. Smooth and creamy with more tartness than a key lime but enough sweetness to balance it out. The shortbread crust helped with that, too, providing those additional buttery notes that made it all come together. And the meringue offered a nice marshmallowy, chewy texture that was perfect.

“It’s delicious.” Danny shook his head. “Where has this pie been all my life? Why don’t people make this anymore?”

She grinned. “Probably because condensed milk manufacturers used to put the recipe for key lime pie on their labels to help sell the product, since it was one of the main ingredients. I picked that up in my research.” She pointed at the sour orange pie with her fork. “This is made with cornstarch. Always was traditionally. There are recipes that use condensed milk but they’re adaptations, not originals.”

His mouth bent in an amused smile. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re like a walking encyclopedia of baking knowledge?”

She laughed. “I just like to do my research. Knowing how a recipe began can really show you how to take it somewhere new. Although for this pie, I went with the recipe that was my grandmother’s and didn’t change a thing. Right down to the Lorna Doone crust.”

“It’s one of the best pies I’ve tasted.” He took another bite, savoring it. “I might just eat this instead of the leftovers I was going to have for dinner. Are there really no other bakeries doing this pie?”

“None that I could find. And I did look. Couldn’t find any restaurants serving it, either. I’d venture a guess that some places probably don’t even know what it is. It’s fallen that much by the wayside.”

“You know,” he said. “This is the kind of thing that could generate some publicity. Bringing back an old Florida tradition. I love that it has Spanish roots. Obviously, that’s a win in my book.”

“Well, Conrad writes for the Gulf Gazette. I can talk to him and see if anyone over there would be interested in doing a little story on it. I made him one of the pies, so he’ll get to taste it.”

Danny nodded. “Please do talk to him. I have some media contacts I can reach out to as well. This is brilliant. I love everything about it. You’ve done it again, Claire. I can’t wait for my dad to taste this.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “Isn’t he here?”

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