Pecan Pie | Diet, Dessert and Dogs

Chocolate Pecan Pie

pieside

A few of you keen-eyed readers guessed that yesterday’s final “teaser” photo was of pecan pie. But since I’m not particularly a “pie person” to begin with (I’ve posted about only one other pie in over a year on this blog–and it wasn’t even my own recipe!), and since I most definitely AM a chocolate person, I decided that my pecan pie had to include chocolate.

Besides, La Martha’s mini-mag, Everyday Food, featured in its latest issue a recipe for chocolate pecan pie, and I’d been yearning for it ever since I saw the recipe. It looked gooey, yummy, decadent, festive, and very, very chocolatey. Staring at the photo simply made me drool. It was one heck of a perfectly baked, perfectly decorated, perfectly chocolatey Perfect Pecan Pie.

So I set about creating my own (sugar-free, wheat-free, vegan) version of this masterpiece. The magazine’s photo was soooo enticing: meticulously arranged pecan halves baked into a slightly bubbly, sticky, engulfing ebony base of glossy chocolatey deliciousness. I had to have that pie!

The only other pecan pie I’ve ever made was another vegan rendition, from my friend Caroline Dupont’s cookbook, Enlightened Eating. I began with her suggestion to combine maple syrup and barley malt syrup, then played with the other elements to come up with what I thought a good approximation of Martha’s confection. I fluted the pie crust, poured in the filling, popped it in the oven, and waited.

Remember those old sitcoms where the inept housewife (choose your favorite: Lucy, Edith, Peggy, Marge) attempts to do the laundry for the first time, and ends up using about 4,576 times too much detergent? And then the machine starts to rumble and wobble, and a stream of soap suds bubbles up over the washer’s lid and glides along the front of the machine and down to the floor, eventually making its way across the room in one massive, seething wave of froth?

Well, that’s sort of what the top of this pie looked like after 30 minutes in the oven. The chocolate mixture bubbled and heaved and puffed like the contents of a witches’ cauldron. firstpie2 The lovely fluted crust was coated in a gleam of dark, gooey, chocolatey filling, as were a few spots on the bottom of the oven. All my perfectly placed pecan halves had been bobbing about in the foaming liquid like castaways afloat on the ocean, tossed this way and that, messing up my beautiful, decorative arrangement entirely. While it ended up tasting good, the pie looked horrendous.

For the second attempt, I used less filling and didn’t worry about perfectly placed pecan halves; I simply chopped them coarsely and folded them right into the filling. Once again, there was a filling explosion that overtook crust, pie plate, and oven. Curses!

Finally, it occurred to me: let’s just take another look-see at Martha’s ideal recipe, why don’t we? The pecans in her photo remained perfectly in position, nary a drop of filling even touching their sides. On second thought, they were too perfect (sort of like Martha herself, no?): they were pristine and unscathed in their nakedness. I re-read the recipe, and came upon this throwaway instruction: “The pie filling puffs up dduring baking but settles as it cools.” AHA! Clearly, the photo did not represent this reality; like most food-styled pictures, this one had been assembled after the pie was baked, the raw pecan halves carefully placed atop an already-cooled pie! Clever, Martha; very clever.

Well, if you can’t beat ‘em, I say, then do them one better. I revamped the recipe completely so that a pre-baked crust is subsequently filled with an unbaked filling. Once the filling rests securely in the crust, then top with your perfectly formed, deliberately placed pecan halves, as decoration. I proudly held up the finished product for the HH’s approval. He took one look at my painstakingly positioned pecan halves and remarked, “It looks vaguely insectoid, don’t you think?” Hmm.

Despite the nutty carapace, this pie was heavenly. Keep it cold for a dense, thick, toffee-like filling; or bring to room temperature for a softer, more gooey result. Either way, it’s one perfectly baked, perfectly decorated, perfectly chocolatey Perfect Pecan Pie.

With its glossy, black, rich chocolate filling, I thought this would be the perfect submission to this month’s Sugar High Fridays, the event started by Jennifer, The Domestic Goddess, and this month hosted by Susan at The Well Seasoned Cook. The theme this time round is “All That Glitters.”

Chocolate Pecan Pie

pecanpieslice6 Thick, rich, and toffee-like, this slightly non-traditional pecan pie is great for a holiday (or just your everyday) table.

Crust:

1/4 cup (60 ml.) coconut oil

2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) sunflower or other light-tasting oil, preferably organic

2 tsp. (10 ml.) pure maple syrup

1 Tbsp. (15 ml.) water

1-1/2 c. (210 g.) light spelt flour

1/2 tsp. (2.5 ml.) sea salt

1/4 tsp. (1 ml.) baking soda

Filling:

1-1/2 cups (120 g.) pecan pieces (use broken pecan halves)

1/2 cup (40 g.) pecan halves (about 30), for decoration, if desired

2/3 cup (160 ml.) pure maple syrup

1/3 cup (80 ml.) barley malt syrup, brown rice syrup, or any combination of the two

2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) smooth cashew butter, at room temperature

1/8 tsp. (.5 ml.) sea salt

2/3 cup (170 g.) dairy-free chocolate chips

1 Tbsp. arrowroot powder

1 tsp. pure vanilla extract

First, make the crust: Preheat oven to 375 F. Grease an 8-1/2 or 9 inch (20 cm.) pie plate, or line bottom with parchment paper and grease sides.

In a small bowl, melt together the coconut butter and oil; whisk to blend. Add the maple syrup and water and whisk again.

In a medium bowl, sift the flour with the salt and baking soda. Pour the wet mixture over the dry and toss with a fork until blended, then use your hand to mix into a solid but still malleable dough. Starting with the sides of the pie plate, press bits of dough along the edges and then the bottom until evenly distributed (you may need to press quite hard). Flute edges if you wish, or press with the tines of a fork. Use a fork to prick the bottom of the dough ten or twelve times.

Bake in preheated oven for 20-30 minutes, until the edges are browned and the rest is golden, rotating the pan once about halfway through. Remove from the oven and pour the hot filling into the crust.

While the crust bakes, make the filling:

Place the broken pecan pieces in a small bowl, setting aside the 1/2 cup pecan halves, if desired.

In a medium pot, combine the maple syrup, barley malt and/or brown rice syrup, cashew butter, sea salt and chocolate chips. Cook and stir over medium heat until everything is melted together and smooth. Sprinkle with the arrowroot and whisk to combine. Continue to cook and stir constantly until the mixture bubbles and boils, 5-10 minutes. Once boiling, reduce heat to medium-low (enough to keep it boiling but not enough for it to boil over the top of the pot) and cook for 10-15 more minutes, stirring frequently. The mixture should become thicker and glossy, with a texture similar to corn syrup or molasses. Turn off heat and add the vanilla; then stir in the chopped nuts. Pour the hot mixture into the baked pie crust and smooth the top if necessary.

If you’re decorating the pie with pecan halves, now is the time to do so, while the filling is still hot. Place the halves in a non-insectoid pattern and press slightly so they stick to the surface of the filling. Allow the pie to cool completely at room temperature; then refrigerate until ready to serve. Makes 8-12 slices.

NOTE: The pie may be eaten straight out of the fridge (we’ve certainly been enjoying it that way), but it’s best to take it out about 20 minutes before serving to soften up a little, which makes slicing easier. Use a long, sharp knife that you dip in hot water and dry between cuts for easier slicing.

Such a Tease

I’ve never been what I’d call a “good” flirt. In high school, I hung out with the nerdy crowd (hard to believe, I know!), so there wasn’t really any opportunity to flirt. Then, when I was finally old enough to attract the opposite sex in my 20s, it seemed too late to get the hang of it. I do remember loathing, admiring and envying (all at the same time) the most popular girls in my high school. It seemed as if their hair, or their eyelashes, or their limp wrists somehow possessed an invisible male adhesive as they giggled and nodded and caressed the guys, just so, on their forearms; or maybe it was just the pheromones they exuded.

In any case, the flirty girls would always be surrounded by an inverse seraglio, an ever-shifting, amorphous cloud of doting males. The boys would fawn over them, open doors for them, carry their books, offer them lifts, or request their phone numbers in a continuous stream. Just how did the girls manage that, I wondered? How did they get away with teasing the guys so overtly, implying lace and perfume and breathless embraces, yet, in reality, yield nothing? These girls were whip-smart as well as beautiful, or they couldn’t have perfected their technique; yet they appeared vacuous and helpless and fragile all at the same time, thereby rendering themselves irresistible to the guys around them.

I had the opportunity to observe a consummate tease after my divorce, when I lived in the same flat as another woman who had previously been married to two of the richest men in Canada (and she was only 32 when I met her). She was one of the smartest cookies I’ve ever known (and funny, witty, sweet and fun to be with, too) yet, the moment she came within a few feet of any attractive male, she appeared to devolve into–how shall I say this?–a helpless, needy, pouting little girl. She’d bat her eyelashes at the nearest specimen and feign incompetence with the lock on the car trunk, the dial on the stereo or the squeaky door on the kitchen cabinet. Then she’d throw up her hands in mock despair and emit a giggle that resonated across the room, like the clang of forks on wine glasses at a wedding, encouraging the newlyweds to kiss.

There must have been something to it, too, because by the time I moved out, she’d snagged yet another of Canada’s wealthiest bachelors (they’ve since divorced, but let’s just say she’ll never have to work again–no, scratch that, she’ll never even have to brush her own teeth again).

My own efforts at flirting have produced less than stellar results. True, some playful flirting resulted in four months dating Rocker Guy (he of the black leather pants); as it turned out, Rocker Guy himself really enjoyed flirting, too–he enjoyed it so much, in fact, that he continued to do so throughout the time we were dating. And his definition of “flirting,” unfortunately, encompassed ”sleeping with.”

Thus ended my flirtation with flirting.

Today, however, I’m afraid I’m going to play the tease once again. After finding out at the last minute that I’d be away at a conference all day today, I wasn’t able to photograph the dish I’d originally intended to post about. Instead, there’s a slew of goodies I’ve been working on for the cookbook, and with the holiday season almost upon us, I thought it might be a good way to get in the mood for holiday baking. (Oh, so how’s the book coming along? Well, I’m still working on the manuscript, which should be complete in less than a month, after which the materials are shipped off to the printer. Ultimately, I’m still aiming for a release date in early 2009–February or March. Whoo!).

Some of these sweets have already been published elsewhere on this blog, with recipes included. You may have also seen some on the testers’ blogs (ie, the absolute BEST TESTERS any cookbook author–or baker–could ever want).

Following are some of my recent favorites from the book, and those that would make good holiday treats. And even if it’s not out in time for this year, you may wish to make some of these next time round.

Chocolate Covered Caramels:

cashewcaramel1