Redemption (of the cocoa cream variety)

Since my stomach flu set back, I decided to switch gears and try my hand at a cream pie.

Up until last weekend, the closest I've ever come to making a cream pie was a cheater chocolate pudding pie (pre-made pie crust + box of instant chocolate pudding + Cool Whip). The resulting pie was boring and bland, but the kids loved it. (Go figure.)

Honestly, cream pies just aren't my favorite.

I always, always reach for a fruit pie over a cream one. Plus, the thought of making a cream pie was always sort of intimidating, which is why my half-assed attempt was so, well, half-assed.

So, to venture into the world of cream pies, I figured it was best to first try a proven cream pie recipe from a cream pie expert. I picked up Lauren Chattman's Icebox Pies and gave her Raspberry and Cocoa Marscapone Cream Pie a whirl.

I followed her recipe and whipped together cocoa powder, confectioner's sugar, marscapone cheese and heavy whipping cream.



In the background is the photo of how the recipe should turn out.
(It had me at "hello" with that chocolate crust and those plump, glorious berries.)



I learned through trial and error to beat the filling until soft peaks form.
(My first batch resembled melted chocolate ice cream.)

Once the filling was the right consistency, I spooned it into a home made chocolate cookie crust (also in the book) that had raspberry jam smeared in the bottom. Then, I topped the whole thing with fresh raspberries and gave it a light dusting of confectioner's sugar.

Viola!

I served it with the recommended raspberry coulis (blended, strained raspberries with lemon juice and confectioner's sugar) and it was absolutely TO DIE FOR.

Thank you, Ms. Chattman. Despite being incredibly easy, this pie was elegant and sophisticated. The coulis (also in the book) was incredible. (And I can't stop saying it, "Coulis, coulis, coulis!")

Obviously, I can't use someone else's recipe for the contest, so I'm already thinking of ways to change it up. Besides, if you're not a fan of marscapone, this pie is not for you. Not wanting to risk displeasing a judge, I'm considering replacing the marscapone with cream cheese and making a mocha-flavored filling instead.

Or maybe I'll see what adding a little rum will do. (Generally speaking, I think nearly everything's better with rum.)

Still, this pie was so good, it lasted only a day and a half. I shared a few slices with the neighbors, but my husband and I managed to polish it off ourselves in record time. (Hubby even licked his plate clean.)

Oh, and if I can just have a moment here...

I swear, nothing beats the smell a fresh-baked chocolate cookie crust. Nothing.

That heavenly, chocolaty aroma was so wonderfully decadent -- so simply orgasmic, it took every ounce of my being to resist devouring it out straight out of the pan, sans filling.

In the end, I'm glad I restrained myself.

And I'm especially glad that my first foray into the world of cream pies was a smashing success.


~ ~ ~ ~


P.S. In case you're counting along, there are only 233 days left until the pie bake-off.

Set back.

When I was in high school, a friend and her mother took me to my first Chinese restaurant.

Being one of five kids, my family didn't eat out much, so the trip was a real treat.

Previously, the only Chinese food I'd ever eaten was La Choy chop suey from a can. So I was thrilled to try eating real Chinese food with real chopsticks and finish my meal with a real fortune cookie.

The experience was everything I'd hoped it'd be. The food was great and the atomosphere exotic. (For a fifteen year-old.) I left the restaurant with a full belly and a sense of pride. I even took my chopsticks home as a souvenir.

Then, the unimaginable happened.

That night, I was hit with an awful case of the stomach flu. For days, my stomach was in knots and I threw up so much, I broke blood vessels around my eyes.

And while it wasn't food poisoning (other family members fell ill too), I mentally associated that meal with being sick. As a result, I couldn't eat Chinese food for years.

Why am I telling you this?

Because scant hours after my last post -- a post I wrote while eating a piece of apple pie -- I came down with a nasty case of the stomach flu.

And as I lay in my bed, reeling with each twist and turn of my GI tract, all I could think of was that pie.

Ugh, that pie!

The virus spread through my entire house. Though I felt better after a few days, I spent the better part of last week caring for my sick husband and kids. It was miserable. We were miserable. And I couldn't help but associate the bug with that apple pie.

I hoped this negative association would quickly disappear, but so far it hasn't.

On Sunday, I made this caramel pear pie, hoping to turn the tide, but the plan didn't work. I had to force myself to eat a small slice.


No love for this cutie pie.

 It appears I've lost my taste for pie.

And with just 246 days left until the bake off, this is a problem.

A Big. Freaking. Problem.

I dream of pie.

I dream about pie now.

Seriously, I do. I've been spending so much time baking and researching baking, it was bound to happen sooner or later.

I dream about fruit.

And about different ways to prepare it.

And different ways to enhance its flavor.

And about how good it feels when it all comes together.

And about how great it feels watching others enjoy it.

Inpired by fear

A week ago, I sat down at my desk at work and found this:

I dropped a container of special pie filling in the freezer for you. Use it well.
Maida
P.S. Love the blog!

A note from Maida herself! Who knew she was a fan?!?

I raced to the fridge in the break room and opened the freezer to find pure gold: a huge container of tart Door County cherries.

Holy crap. The Pie Queen herself wants me to bake a cherry pie -- using the most delicious, succulent, amazing cherries on the planet.

After my initial wave of excitement, anxiety crept in. OK. It wasn't anxiety. It was bone-chilling, mind-numbing fear.

Having just underbaked a berry pie two days earlier, my confidence in being able to master pie making by The Fourth was shot. These cherries are too good, too perfect. The thought of blowing several pints of Door County cherries in a mediocre test pie made me nauseous.

"I can't risk screwing these up," I thought.

And so as I tucked the precious gift deep into my freezer at home, I began thinking about my pie making technique and the learning process.

Up to that point, I'd been following recipes and throwing raw, chopped fruit into pie dough, tossing it in the oven, and then crossing my fingers that they'd taste good and not have the consistency of a melted slushie.

That's a time-consuming and expensive proposition -- and one with unreliable results. I'd already blown whole pies with poorly baked/seasoned filling.

And so I wondered: Could someone make their pie filling on the stove where they're better able to monitor and adjust the consistency and flavor?

Think of it like spaghetti sauce. You simmer and stir, adding a pinch of this or that, constantly tasting and adjusting to get the perfect mix. Would it work with pie too?

I set out to find stove-top pie recipes and found relatively few. I did come across the advice that cooking the filling on the stove allows the fruit to cook down some before baking -- a technique that prevents the gap between top crust and fruit from forming.

I figured it was worth a try -- especially like a beginner for me.

I pulled out my biggest skillet and began melting butter and brown sugar. I adding loads of apples, combining Granny Smith and Golden Delicious for a nice sweet/tart contrast. I added a pinch of cinnamon and even a splash of bourbon (an interesting ingredient I saw in a cook book once) and thickened the mixture with apple juice and instant tapioca. I simmered everything over low heat and inhaled the heavenly aroma.

Once I was satisfied with the flavor and consistency, I let it cool some and then poured it into a pie plate.

The results were delicious. (Although I learned to only partially cook the fruit on the stove, otherwise it'll be too mushy after baking in the oven.)

I'm sure I won't use the stove-top method exclusively, it'll certainly come in handy as I try to develop my own, original recipes for the contest.

So far I've made two apple pies using the stove-top method and I've been really pleased with the results. My confidence is restored and I'm feeling eager to forge ahead.

And so I need to thank my mystery Maida.

Thank you for inspiring me -- by scaring the hell out of me -- to try something new.

Butter haiku

Butter. My first love.
A pure and sinful delight.
Two sticks per pie: Nice.

Creamy yellow bliss.
You make my pies taste yummy.
Heaven on a fork.

Oh butter, my dear.
You give my crusts golden flair.
And make my ass huge.

Bud-ahhhh.

The verdict: Blackberry crumble pie

The blackberry crumble pie kicked ass.

Seriously, this recipe is a real contender. If I make a few adjustments, blackberry crumble may be the pie to win the berry category.

Overall, my taste-testers really liked it. The berries: sweet and succulent. The cinnamon-nutmeg crumb topping: crunchy, buttery deliciousness. And the crust: a flaky slice of heaven.

The highest compliment? Multiple requests for seconds.

I plan to make it again this weekend to iron out the wrinkles and practice using my new pastry cloth, which will hopefully make it easier to transfer dough to the pie plate. (And will result in fewer tears on my part.)

With this pie, I learned a valuable lesson: When adding apples to recipes to help with taste and thickening, dice or shred the apples into tiny pieces. They'll bake down and thicken the filling more.

My apple chunks didn't bake down enough. They were just too big.

Blackberry crumble pie earned 17.25 points out of 20; the highest scoring recipe so far.

Last week, I was feeling anxious about this whole thing -- this shark was about to lose her snark.

But this pie gave my spirits a much-needed boost. If I can perfect it, I'm sure to enter the contest with a killer pie and a gigantic chip on my shoulder.

Booyah.

Blackberry crumble: Maida's way

Maida and I hit the grocery store to procure ingredients for the "award-winning" blackberry pie in her book.

I let her lead.

This recipe caught my attention because for one, it calls for frozen fruit.

Now I know it's best to use fresh, but I need fruit I can rely on (taste-wise).

I need a constant. A sure thing.

The contest is in July. It's highly likely that fruit from all four categories are NOT going to be in season at the same time. I need ingredients I can count on for flavor and texture.

The recipe calls for a granny smith apple to add another flavor element,
but also to add pectin, a natural thickening agent.

This is an open-faced pie with a crumb topping made of dark brown sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg and unsalted butter.

With the crumb top.

I also used Maida's pie crust recipe and I've gotta tell you. This dough was a beast to work with. I kept it as cold as possible and followed her instructions to the letter, but when I rolled it out and tried to transfer it to the pan, the whole thing crumbled to pieces in my hands.

(My husband came running when he heard me scream.)

So, I patched the dough back together as best I could.

Crust 911!

Baked it and, viola:

Finished product.

She sure won't be the prettiest girl at the party, but I hope she puts out (TASTE, people!).

I'm taking it to work today for my co-workers to help test.

Stay tuned for the results.