PIE #4 - COCONILLA COCONUT CREAM

It's minus twenty-two degrees as I write this next installment of my pie blog. About this time each year, I suffer a bad case of Montana brain freeze. My winter-loving friends are immune to it, my warmer clime friends are clueless about it, but they all know when I've been afflicted by it. The telltale symptoms of Montana brain freeze are: incessant whining about the cold temperatures, explosive outbursts over the hazardous road conditions, and near delirium over the lack of sunlight. Montana brain freeze victims are seized with the same intense singular thought that paralyzes those besieged with the infamous Slurpee brain freeze: "PLEASE make it go away!"

Unfortunately for me, Montana winters don't dissipate like a fleeting Slurpee brain freeze episode. But I can escape the deep snow and the biting wind by allowing my mind to drift to tropical topics: swaying palm trees, white sand beaches, juicy pineapples, fragrant plumerias, banana cream pie. Last week's Banana Cream Dream recipe whisked me right back to balmy Hawaii and right on its coattails (or rather, aloha shirttails) is this week's Coconilla Coconut Cream Pie.

With the sweet taste of banana cream success lingering on my tongue, I took some creative license with the coconut cream recipe. I opted for a Nilla wafer cookie crust and indulged the filling with the addition of Coco Lopez cream of coconut, the luscious ingredient in piña coladas, hence my hybrid recipe name of Coconilla. Interestingly, I discovered that coconilla is a perennial shrub that originated in the West Indies. The plant bears a juicy berry that is used for medicinal purposes, specifically spleen issues. Coconilla is extremely sensitive to frost and needs sunny conditions to thrive. Even partial shade will compromise its growth. Do you know of someone that might resemble that description?

While making this pie, I flashed back to 1974 and Miss Miranda's home economics class. As I mentioned in a previous blog entry, our class pie creations were less than stellar. Our coconut cream filling was tainted, in my opinion, with the intrusion of flaked coconut. I've omitted it in my version and allowed the Coco Lopez to punch up the pie with coconut flavor sans the annoying bits of flaked coconut. Miss Miranda, if you are reading this, I apologize for leaving out an ingredient, but I think you'll love my smooth, unadulterated version.

I hope you enjoy this pie as much as I have. My first bite transported me to the sunny West Indies. I polished off two slices in my tropical reverie with nary an issue with my spleen. But rest assured, a garnish of a coconilla berry would have quelled it!

COCONILLA COCONUT CREAM PIE

Crust:
40 Nilla wafers, crushed
1/4 cup butter, melted

Thoroughly blend wafer crumbs and melted butter. Press into an even layer against bottom and sides of a 9" pie plate. Bake in a preheated oven at 375 degrees for 6-8 minutes. Cool.

Filling:
3/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup cornstarch
1/8 teaspoon salt
2 cups half and half
4 large egg yolks
1/2 cup Coco Lopez canned cream of coconut, well stirred
1 teaspoon coconut extract
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 tablespoons butter

Combine the sugar, cornstarch, and salt in a medium-size heavy saucepan. Whisk in the half and half, egg yolks, and cream of coconut. Cook over medium heat, continuously whisking until the mixture starts to thicken and comes to a boil, 5-7 minutes. Continue to whisk and cook until quite thick, about 1 1/2 minutes. Remove from heat and whisk in extracts and butter, blending until butter is melted. Immediately pour the filling into the cooled pie crust. Press a piece of plastic wrap directly over the filling to prevent the forming of a skin. Transfer the pie to a wire rack and let cool to room temperature before refrigerating for at least 5 hours or overnight.

Topping:
1 cup cold heavy whipping cream
3 tablespoons confectioner's sugar
1/2 cup sweetened flaked coconut, toasted (optional)*

When you're ready to serve the pie, make the topping. Using a chilled bowl and beaters, beat the cream with an electric mixer until soft peaks form. Add the confectioner's sugar and beat until stiff but not grainy. Smooth over the chilled pie. Sprinkle with toasted coconut, if desired.

*To toast coconut, spread flakes on a large baking sheet and place in a preheated 325 degree oven for about 10 minutes. Watch carefully and stir the coconut every few minutes to ensure even toasting. Remove from oven when coconut turns a golden color.

PIE #3 - BANANA CREAM DREAM

When I lived in the Hawaii in the mid 1980s, I sampled the most heavenly banana cream pie. It left an indelible memory which recently surfaced in a conversation I was having with a friend. We don't get together often, and when she asked me how my life was going, I answered using a food analogy.
Because my life is so busy and full of varied activities, I told her my life is like a pie sliced into many wedges. There is no slice too big to consume but rather many little tasty slivers that I graze upon and which completely satisfy me.

"But what flavor is your pie?" she inquired further.

This is when that dreamy banana cream pie memory came to light. After pondering for a moment, I replied, "My life is a banana cream pie. Bananas are sweet yet healthful and their sunny color brings cheer. Bananas remind me of Hawaii which is my favorite place on earth with its warm climate and warm people. My life now is sweetly blessed; I am happy but freezing and would love to snowbird in Hawaii where the bananas grow.

"Banana cream pie is also creamy and rich, and my life is rich with purposeful activity and rich in friendships. Mounds of fluffy whipped cream represent the fun opportunities that have come my way.

"My favorite banana cream pie has a scrumptious macadamia shortbread crust and a light sprinkling of chopped macadamias and toasted coconut atop the whipped cream. Those nuts represent the obstacles and pitfalls in life, not so overwhelming as to halt me but just enough to challenge me. Nuts are full of fiber and require a thorough chewing, a nutritional liquid plumber of sorts. A plain banana cream pie without nuts would lazily slide past the tongue and down the throat. My life has been sweet but I need a little roughage to prevent me from getting too complacent.

"I'm not overly fond of coconut and would choose to omit it in most recipes. Grated coconut has a funky texture. I can chew and chew it but it just doesn't seem to disintegrate. And it gets stuck in my teeth. The toasted coconut slivers on the pie represent those people and situations in my life that, despite my chewing, just won't disappear. But with patience and tolerance, I must deal with them head-on and become stronger in the process. And usually with coconut, after the first bite I realize I actually don't mind the taste!"

My friend looked at me and giggled. "Let's ask a bunch of other people this question!"

Later at home, I queried my daughter who, over the drone of her hairdryer and the blaring music from her boom box, yelled, "What did you say???....Oh, my life is one of those cheesecake samplers with lots of slices and lots of flavors." How true of my wanderlust daughter who who hopscotches along, experiencing a little bit here and a little bit there but all of it with gusto.

So I pose this question to you now. If your life were a pie, what flavor is it and why? In the meantime, I have done my best to replicate that banana cream pie I sampled in paradise. The cookie crust is sweet and the filling is especially creamy with the half and half. If you really want to live on the edge, use full cream. Make sure your bananas aren't green or black. The ripeness factor is critical to the overall flavor. Use a 9 1/2" deep dish pie pan. This pie needs some room to show off its ample whipped cream topping. And please post answers to my pie question. I'd love to read your creative responses!

Macadamia Shortbread Pie Crust
1/2 cup macadamia nuts
1 cup butter, softened
1/4 cup light brown sugar
1/4 cup confectioner's sugar
1 3/4 cups all purpose flour

In a coffee mill or small blender, grind macadamia nuts until a thick paste form. Using your hands, mix macadamia paste, butter, sugars and flour together in a large bowl. Squeeze and work dough until it holds together. Press into a deep dish 9 1/2" pie pan making sure the dough is pressed a little higher than the lip of the pie pan to prevent shrinking during baking. Chill for 2 hours. Preheat oven to 325 degrees and bake for 15 minutes. Cool.

Filling
3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
1/3 cup cornstarch
1/8 teaspoon salt
3 cups half and half
3 large egg yolks
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into 1/2" chunks
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Combine the sugar, cornstarch, and salt in a medium-size heavy saucepan. Whisk in the half and half and egg yolks. Place over medium heat and cook, stirring continuously until mixture thickens and bubbles, 5-8 minutes. Continue to cook, whisking continuously, for about 1 minute more. Remove from heat and whisk in butter, one chunk at a time. Whisk in vanilla. Pour the filling into the cooled crust. Gently press a piece of plastic wrap against the filling to prevent a skin from forming. Cool on wire rack to room temperature, then refrigerate for at least 5 hours or overnight.

Topping
2 cups heavy or whipping cream, well chilled
1/4 cup confectioner's sugar
3 large bananas
1/4 cup each chopped macadamia nuts and toasted coconut for garnish (optional)

Using a chilled medium-size bowl and chilled beaters, beat the cream with an electric mixer until soft peaks form. Add confectioner's sugar and continue beating just until stiff. Spread a thin layer of the topping over the chilled pie filling. Slice the bananas about 1/4' thick and place all over the pie. Mound the remaining whipped cream over the bananas. Sprinkle with chopped macadamia nuts and toasted coconut, if desired. Chill uncovered for an hour and then serve.

PIE #2 - MISS MIRANDA'S VANILLA CREAM

I would be remiss if I didn't include in my pie blog Miss Miranda's original recipe from home economics class circa 1974. So to pay homage to her and to redeem my pathetic pie-making self, I have attempted to bake that very same pie using the very same recipe that, believe it or not, I still have filed away in my recipe archives. The mimeographed copy is faded and there are stain splotches on the 8 1/2 x 11 paper (I imagine these stains are from the burnt custard fiasco). And for those of you under the age of forty, you probably don't even know what a mimeograph is. 

So here in all its glory is Miss Miranda's original recipe for vanilla cream pie. Check out how the graham crackers are to be crushed in wax paper. This recipe was written B.Z. - before Ziploc! And notice how butter is referred to as table fat. Can you imagine going to the movie theatre and requesting table fat on your popcorn?

Rest assured that if you try this recipe, you cannot possibly botch it like I did during the Grand Pie Debacle of 1974. I can almost hear Miss M raising her voice above the loud din of chirping junior high girls, "Don't leave out any ingredients-es!"

Graham Crust:
12-14 graham crackers (to yield 1 1/2 cups of crumbs)
2 tablespoons sugar
1/3 cup butter

1. Place crackers on waxed paper. Crush to fine crumbs with rolling pin.
2. Soften table fat, add sugar to crumbs. Mix well.
3. Press mixture firmly into greased 9" pie pan with back of spoon. Bake at 400 degrees for
    8-10 minutes.

Vanilla Custard Filling:
3/4 cup sugar
1/3 cup flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 cups milk
3 egg yolks (slightly beaten)
2 tablespoons butter
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

In saucepan, combine dry ingredients. Gradually stir in milk. Cook and stir over medium heat till bubbly. Cook and stir 2 minutes. Remove from heat and stir small amount of hot mix into egg yolks. Return to hot mix. Cook 2 minutes more, stirring constantly. Remove from heat. Add butter and vanilla and blend well. Pour into baked pie shell and refrigerate.

I wasn't exactly thrilled about replicating this pie. If you've read my first blog piece, you'll recall that my filling had errant globs of unsightly burnt custard. It's no surprise I filed away that mimeographed pie recipe and hadn't taken it out for decades. But I'm happy to report that my second attempt wasn't a complete disaster: no burnt custard and the crumb crust did not migrate into the filling. No offense to Miss Miranda, but I would substitute cornstarch for the flour. The custard had that cooked flour taste and it was a bit runny. When I removed the first slice from the pan, the custard was not firm enough and began oozing into the empty space. The overall flavor, however, was pleasant. I think Miss Miranda would give me a passing grade this time around!

PIE #1 - SUBLIME KEY LIME

The key to key lime pie is key lime. The end....

Seriously though, the key to authentic key lime pie is truly the key lime. Floridians take their key lime pie seriously. In 2006 both the Florida House of Representatives and the Florida Senate passed legislation effecting that key lime pie be deemed the "Official Pie of the State of Florida." And back in 1965, Florida State Representative Bernie Papy Jr. introduced legislation calling for a $100 fine to be levied against anyone advertising key lime pie not made with key limes. That bill did not pass but every Floridian has ingrained deep into their southern soul that substituting standard lime juice in a key lime pie is a cardinal sin.

I just returned from sunny Orlando and I thought it apropos that I should kick off my pie blog with key lime pie. My research in the sunshine state was fruitful, so to speak. The key ingredient, of course, is key lime. Key limes are not to be confused with the ubiquitous Persian limes found in every supermarket. Key limes are like the runt offspring of a lemon and a lime; a much smaller and roundish yellow fruit whose juice, although paltry, packs a super tart punch. Being in the heart of Florida, I was confident that key limes would be displayed right next to their Persian relatives on the produce shelves.

Incorrect assumption. The first grocery clerk I approached apparently did not know what key limes were as she directed me to Persian limes. Another clerk led me to kiwis. And since I didn't want to spend my precious short time fruitlessly searching for those elusive key limes, I settled for bottled key lime juice, making sure it was 100% pure unadulterated key lime juice. (On an ironic side note...when I returned home to Montana, I discovered key lime juice and key limes are regularly stocked at my local grocers).

What the Orlando grocery stores lacked in key limes they redeemed themselves in key lime cookbooks. Go figure. I purchased a couple and then went to the bakery department of the Publix grocery store. Online reviews of their key lime pie were favorable, so I purchased a pie and let it chill in the hotel refrigerator before sampling it. A key lime connoisseur I am not, but this pie was quite delicious with a firm custard bursting with lime flavor and a graham cracker crust that embraced the filling without suffocating it.

My next stop was a Bahama Breeze restaurant whose key lime pie got rave reviews. Indeed, with its hearty brown sugar graham crust and billowy meringue topping, this pie seriously upstaged the Publix version. Had I more time in Florida to taste test, I would have graced my palate with many more key lime pies. So armed with an arsenal of recipes and my key ingredient of key lime juice, I flew back home to bake my very first pie.

I opted for the classic version - graham cracker crust, custard filling, and a whipped cream garnish versus the gourmet version of a meringue topping. Tackling meringue will come later in my pie quest. Miss Miranda would be happy that I left out no ingredients-es. She might, however, frown upon the fact that I took some creative license with the original recipe. I substituted brown sugar in the crust, added a bit of vanilla extract for depth and doubled the custard filling because it didn't quite fill the pie pan. The end product was a respectable Key Lime Pie!

LINDA'S SUBLIME KEY LIME PIE

Crust:
1 1/4 cups graham cracker crumbs
1/4 cup brown sugar, packed
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/4 cup butter, melted

Filling:
2 14-ounce cans sweetened condensed milk
7 egg yolks
3/4 cup key lime juice
Freshly whipped cream
Lime slices for garnish

Preheat oven to 325 degrees F. In a medium bowl, mix all crust ingredients together and press evenly into a 9-inch pie pan. Bake for 8 minutes. Cool.
In another medium bowl, using an electric mixer, combine the milk and egg yolks at low speed. Slowly add the key lime juice. Mix until well blended and mixture has thickened a bit. Pour into prepared crust and refrigerate overnight. Right before serving, top with whipped cream and lime slices. Makes 1 9-inch pie.

Other key facts about key lime pie:

Purists shudder at the thought of adding green food coloring to key lime pie. A key lime pie in its natural glory is a pale buttery yellow mainly due to the egg yolks but also because key lime juice is yellow, not green.

Key Lime Pie originated in Key West, Florida by local residents referred to as "Conchs". Because refrigeration was not available and there were no cattle in the area, canned milk was used.

The acid from the lime juice sets and thickens the egg yolks. There is no need to cook the custard filling although most recipes nowadays call for briefly baking the filling to ward off any possible lurking salmonella bacteria.

A key lime yields just 1-2 teaspoons of juice whereas a Persian lime yields 1-2 tablespoons. In a pinch, you can substitute 1/2 Persian lime juice and 1/2 lemon juice for key lime juice. Purists, of course, insist on fresh key lime juice when making their pies.

THE PIBLE

You won't find pible in the dictionary because it's a word I've concocted as I begin my search for a comprehensive pie reference book. Pie + Bible = Pible and I desperately need a Pible to guide me through my 2011 pie making endeavors. My collection of 200+ cookbooks yields not a one book on pies. I recall owning a Martha Stewart's Pies and Tarts book, but it sat forlornly on my bookshelf like a neglected orphan. I don't recall what I did with it. It probably ended up in a yard sale. Or maybe it ran away in the middle of the night, jealous of all the attention I lavished on my cake cookbooks.

On a recent trip to the bookstore in search of a Pible, I was at first pleasantly amused and then slightly exasperated as I scanned the dessert section of the cookbook nook. It became quite obvious that the cake category overshadowed all others. The titles were catchy and it seemed each tried to outdo the next.

There were macho sounding titles: Ace of Cakes, Cake Boss

Titles with a spiritual bent: Cupcake Heaven, Heavenly Cakes, The Cake Bible

Ethereal titles: Cakes to Dream On, Cakes to Inspire and Desire

Geographically inspired titles: A World of Cakes, United Cakes of America

Medical titles: The Cake Mix Doctor, The Chocolate Cake Mix Doctor, The Cake Mix Doctor Returns

Witty titles: Cake Me-I'm Yours, All Cakes Considered

In all there were 36 cake cookbooks flamboyantly crowding out the others. After scanning the shelves several times over in a frustrating search for a pie cookbook, I uncovered a whopping three. It was as if they were cowering in the shadow of their pompous neighbors. And as flashy as the cake titles were, the pie titles were plain jane:

Pie
Southern Pie
Pie & Tart

A fourth title, Whoopie Pies, didn't really qualify as a pie cookbook, but at least the title was tantalizing!

I pulled "Pie" off the shelf using both hands. This 640-page tome looked like the perfect Pible. The author's passion for pies spilled out from the pages of the book like hot bubbling blueberry filling. Chock-full of tips and brimming with detailed instructions, I wasted no time hoisting my Pible to the checkout counter (but not before sticking my tongue out at all the stuck-up cake cookbooks).

AS EASY AS PIE

We've all heard the saying. When describing something as extremely easy, we compare it to pie. Simple, unfettered, elementary. "Oh, you can do it. It's as easy as pie!" Crust + Filling = Delicious Pie. A basic equation but for me making pie may as well have been as complex as pi, and let's just say math is not my strong suit.

My first experience with making pies was in 1974 in Miss Miranda's junior high home economics class. Her impossible mission was to subdue two dozen giggling teenage girls and mold them into mini Betty Crockers, a tall order for a young teacher short on experience. Miss Miranda divided us into groups of four and gave us our first assignment. On typing paper she had handwritten a cream pie recipe with six variations. As she handed out mimeographed copies to each group, she shrilled in a Julia Child-esque voice, "You must first master the basic recipe. It's quite easy but remember to not leave out any ingredientses." No, that is not a typo. Miss Miranda said "ingredients-es". She pluralized a plural. Perhaps that was an omen. If something so easy had multiple ingredients-es, then its easiness was already suspect.

My table of four headed to our cooking station. Two girls worked on the crust which was thankfully a basic graham cracker recipe. Another classmate and I attempted the custard filling which consisted of sugar, flour, salt, milk, egg yolks, butter and vanilla extract. Our end product? An unsightly filling speckled with errant graham cracker crumbs and scorched custard.

The following week Miss Miranda assigned each group a variation: vanilla, chocolate, banana, butterscotch, coconut, and lemon. At the end of class we would sample each pie. My group landed the banana variation. Our second attempt at mastering the custard filling was somewhat successful; no charred chunks although it was a bit runny. We sliced bananas, placed them in the graham cracker crust, and poured in the filling. Perhaps if we had time to chill the pie, the filling could have thickened. Instead, we offered our soupy pie to the rest of the class. I don't recollect that any of the other groups' pies were worthy of a James Beard Award. The coconut pie had too much grated coconut which made it strangely chewy. The chocolate pie had a faint chocolate flavor, like diluted Nestle's Quik. And it's amazing we all didn't die of salmonella poisoning from the lemon pie's raw egg meringue.

Fast forward to 1985. I was a new bride. Despite Miss Miranda's noble efforts to churn out Betty Crockers and despite me having a masterful cook for a mother, my lack of cooking skills and lack of enthusiasm to learn were a sure recipe for culinary disaster. My poor husband patiently and bravely endured many of attempts, too many to even recount here. Perhaps in another book.

But getting back to 1985.....

For Thanksgiving that year, we were invited to spend the holiday with my sister who was blessed with my mother's cooking gene. I offered to bring something and my sis, knowing I had a sweet tooth, asked me to bring, of all things, a pie. I hadn't attempted baking pies since the Grand Pie Debacle of 1974. What was I to do? Should I bring a Marie Callender's bakery pie? No, that would be an easy cop out. Store bought equals cardinal sin on the most sacred holiday of home-cooked goodness.

So with great trepidation, I cracked open a gift from my mother-in-law, herself an accomplished cook. The Good Housekeeping Illustrated Cookbook had photos of every recipe and straightforward step-by-step instructions with accompanying pictures of each step. I donned my apron and lined up the measuring cups, mixing bowls, and ingredients. I flipped to page 334 and glanced at the ten illustrated steps in creating a basic 2-crust pastry. Steps 1-5 looked awfully messy. With having to mix the flour, salt, shortening and water with a pastry blender (which I didn't own), I decided to condense five steps into one by using a hand mixer. I was feeling pretty smug being such a time-efficient cook. And I left out the salt, totally disregarding Miss Miranda's instruction to "not leave out any ingredients-es." The pumpkin filling recipe looked easy enough. Thank goodness for canned pumpkin. And why not substitute skim milk for evaporated milk? And no cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves? No problem. I had ginger powder so I simply quadrupled the measure to make up for the lack of other spices. Don't the world's greatest chefs simply wing it? And to think with this one effort I would produce two pies. Wow, this truly was easy as pie!

My end result? Two goopy ginger pies with hockey puck crusts. I threw off my apron and walked away in defeat to Marie Callender's.

It's 2010. I have been married 25 years to the original brave soul who thankfully survived my near-toxic culinary concoctions. I have raised two fine children who, by the time they were born, had a mother who could make her way around a kitchen. I studied cuisines of the world, sifted through umpteen recipes and created my own, entered and won cooking contests, amassed a cookbook collection that rivals the Library of Congress, and confidently threw elaborate dinner parties.

My cooking confidence at a peak coupled with my penchant for sweets, I delved into the fanciful world of cakes.....

Angel food, devil's food, tiramisu

Pound cake, sponge cake, coffee cake, too

Short as a bundt or tiered up high

Mastering cakes is as easy as pie!

I devoured cake cookbooks, enrolled in a series of cake decorating classes, and purchased every Wilton pan and accessory I could get my flour-coated hands on. A piece of cake? You bet! Word of mouth helped launch my business, The Coco Confectionery whose mission was to make the town a sweeter place. Although I could bake delectable cakes, decorate them to the nines, and showcase them at weddings and other celebrations, mastering the humble pie still eluded me. Humbling indeed.

Just around the corner 2011 awaits. With a new year comes new resolutions, or perhaps more like the "same old same old" resolutions for most folks: lose weight, get out of debt, exercise more. As I reflect on my past and look to the future where a very large milestone birthday looms, my new year's resolution has taken shape. And that shape is round with a golden crisp crust. My 2011 resolution, drum roll please.....I WILL master pies, fifty in all to celebrate my fifty years on this planet.

How easy is that? As easy as pie, I hope!