Here’s the thing about making American desserts in Finland: nobody knows what they’re supposed to taste like. This is either a problem or an opportunity, depending on your relationship with culinary authenticity.
Mine is… flexible.
I wanted to bring key lime pie to Christmas Eve dinner with the in-laws. Key lime pie is one of those desserts that feels appropriately festive without being Christmas Christmas — no gingerbread, no peppermint, just bright and tart and unexpected. Plus it’s easy. Condensed milk does most of the work, and the filling basically sets itself through the magic of acid and egg yolks reacting with the proteins.
The problem was, I had approximately one tablespoon of actual lime juice. The bottle was giving its last wheeze, tipped completely upside down, waiting.

A sensible person would have made something else.
I am not always a sensible person. I am, however, a person with a cold cellar full of canning supplies.
The Filling (A Study in Creative Chemistry)
Here’s what actually went into my “key lime” pie:
- 1 tbsp lime juice (the bottle dregs, doing their best)
- 65ml lemon juice (doing approximately 98% of the actual citrus work)
- A pinch of citric acid dissolved in water
- A good glug of French Teisseire lime syrup
- One can sweetened condensed milk
- Three egg yolks
The citric acid deserves special mention. I have 1.4 kilograms of food-grade sitruunahappo sitting in my cold cellar — two full bottles, purchased for canning projects. When you’re a homesteader with that much crystallized acid on hand, you start to see it as a solution to many problems. Canning tomatoes? Acid. Adjusting the pH of jam? Acid. Pretending lemon pie is lime pie? Acid.

The condensed milk doesn’t actually care where its acid comes from. It just needs acid to trigger the protein reaction that thickens the filling. Citric acid is literally what’s in limes anyway. Chemistry doesn’t judge.
The lime syrup was the real sleight of hand. It’s shelf-stable, aggressively lime-flavored, and the kind of thing you buy once for cocktails and then have forever. (We’d been using it for jello experiments. Long story.) It contributed almost nothing to the acidity but everything to the suggestion of lime.
Flavor is at least 40% psychological.

The Crust
Half a packet of digestive biscuits (200 grams) fed to my Ninja blender. 1500 watts of destruction. Those cookies didn’t stand a chance. Pulse until they fear you, but stop before you accidentally make cookie butter.
Five tablespoons of melted butter. Two tablespoons of sugar, added as defense against all that acid in the filling. Press into the pie dish firmly and bake at 175°C for ten minutes until it’s set and slightly golden.

The Topping
Stabilized whipped cream, because I needed this pie to survive two days in the fridge looking presentable. The trick was to bloom a tiny bit of gelatin in cold water, melt it gently, then drizzle it into the cream while whipping. The same gelatin I’m using in the jello experiments, by the way. (The jello experiments are their own story. Failures abound. Successes are forthcoming.)
And then… green sprinkles.
The green sprinkles are important. They’re psychological warfare. They say “this is lime” in a way that the pale yellow filling does not. The brain sees green, the tongue tastes tart and sweet, and the conclusion is obvious.
Nobody questions a dessert with thematically appropriate sprinkles.

The Verdict
Finnish Christmas Eve dinner is not a light affair. There was ham. Baked salmon. Two different herrings. The full lineup of laatikot (carrot, potato, rutabaga, liver). Rosolli. Boiled potatoes. A cheese platter. Salads. By the time dessert arrived, we’d already eaten enough to hibernate through January.
And then my pie had to hold its own against pulla, date cake, kääretorttu, and my mother-in-law’s homemade rum ice cream.
You know what? It did.
It was just the right amount of acidic. Fresh, but not puckering. After all that rich, heavy, savory food, a tart citrus pie was exactly the palate cleanser the table needed. Everyone tried it. Everyone liked it. Nobody questioned the lime.
The pie got a second showing on Christmas Day, holding court alongside Finnish Christmas dessert royalty like it belonged there. It did belong there. It earned its place at the table through sheer audacity and a cold cellar full of canning acid.
Hyvää joulua, indeed.

Actual Recipe (For the brave)
Crust:
- 200g digestive biscuits, destroyed
- 5 tbsp melted butter
- 2 tbsp sugar
Press into pie dish, bake 10 min at 175°C.
Filling:
- 1 can sweetened condensed milk
- 3 egg yolks
- Whatever lime juice you have (mine: 1 tbsp)
- Lemon juice to bring total citrus to ~75-80ml
- Pinch of citric acid dissolved in a splash of water
- Splash of lime syrup for flavor
Mix, pour into crust, bake 15 min at 175°C. Cool completely.
Stabilized Whipped Cream:
- 200ml heavy cream
- 3/4 tsp gelatin bloomed in 1 tbsp cold water
- Powdered sugar to taste
- Vanilla
Bloom gelatin, microwave 10 seconds to dissolve, cool slightly. Whip cream, drizzle in gelatin while whipping, continue to stiff peaks.
Top pie. Add green sprinkles for psychological effect. Refrigerate. Serve with confidence.