A touch southern, I guess — Chocolate Chess Pie

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So I’ve kept alluding to some trip down south I took like a month ago. (I mean I think I alluded to it. Did I allude to it? Could I have at least completed that simple task??) In lieu of cutesy hotesy totsey flowery stuff that I see normally associated with stuff from the south, Imma be a realist with you:


Nashville was cool as fuck. I even convinced a boy to “date” me for 8 hours! A REAL LIVE BOY. WHO IS IN A BAND. IN MUSIC CITY.
GUYS HOW IS THIS REAL.
I WAS SOME HOW ABLE TO TALK ABOUT NOVELS AND POETRY TO A BOY OVER A BEER few beers lets be real it’s me TO THE BACKGROUND MUSIC OF AN EARLY ELVIS IMPERSONATION BAND AND HE KISSED ME ON THE MOUTH WOW
and other places too HON HON HON
We were there for only four days, and somehow a group of 5 previously unpopular best friends from high school were able to fucking make our own The Hangover part I. We had two girls in the hospital, one fell asleep with all of her clothes on, one brought a guy over, and I was “lost” with a local in his car. Yes. We had to change the tire. Yes we were lost three blocks from the hotel. Completely and utterly lost sorry fraaaands. ❀

Surprisingly during my trip I didn’t really experience super traditional “Better Homes & Gardens” kind of shit. I didn’t have no sweet tea, nobody blessed my heart, and the only country song I knew the words to was Wagon Wheel.

We went to some famous smokehouse bbq place, because I am from the northeast and am a first generation American, so all really American-y things are foreign to me and I become a tourist in my own damn country. The meats were kinda fun to eat I guess. As we were waiting on the line behind burly old dudes with handlebar mustaches and tie-die shirts (no lie i have a fucking picture) I saw this slice of something yellow in a little plastic container.
As we got closer and I placed my order, I asked the very understandably disgruntled food dispenser ladies, and she told me it was Chess Pie. CHESS PIE??? I’ve only HEARD about it because of Wikipedia. I forgot what the hell was in it, and everything inside of me compelled to purchase it…. except I was the one girl in the group of 5 ordering the “4 meat & 2 veg sides” plate while my friends delicately ate the 2 meat plate. So, uh, for reasons…. uhhhhhh I guess I didn’t order it.

As I scarfed down charred animal parts doused in several different smokey-sweet sauces, visions of chess pie danced through my head. I gotta have it. NO WAY I MUST. I convinced all of my friends for us to go to a bakery the next day… only to find out the only bakery within walking distance was CLOSED.
WHAT THE FUCK BITCH NEEDS HER PIE.

So we never got around to it. πŸ˜₯ I kept obessing over the idea of tasting what this magical pie must be like. I mean, shit Southern Living says it’s remarkable so fuck it if I don’t try it, ehh??

I told Whiskey about it once I returned with a postcard in hand. She did all of the working of sitting on pinterest and looking for a recipe, so there’s the credit you always want. Sheesh!

Recipe is from the always stunning Adventures in Cooking.
WARNING: I HAVE NEVER EATEN CHESS PIE BEFORE AND I HAVE TAKEN SOME LIBERTIES SO YEAH
Just note, I will give you the correct ingredient measurements, and stuff this time. πŸ˜› Not like the doughnuts because I have no idea what the fuck I was doing. I’m completely disorganized.
Just like my life. ❀


Chocolate Chess Pie
Serves: depends on how greedy you want to be

Ingredients:
Pie Crust
*2 cups flour
*1/2 cup super cold butter {I fucked up here. as usual}
*1/2 cup super cold shortening {don’t like shortening? use 1 cup buttahhh}
*6-8 tablespoons water {UHH I GUESS I MISCOUNTED I’M FOLLOWING THE ORIGINAL}
*2 teaspoons sugar {FUCKED UP HERE TOO WHY}
*1/2 teaspoon salt

Chocolate Chess Pie Filling
*1 cup sugar
*1/4 cup brown sugar
*1/4 cup cocoa powder
*2 tablespoons corn meal startch???? {WILL EXPLAIN}
*2 eggs
*5 oz (or like slightly more than 1/2 cup) of evaporated milk
*1/4 cup butter, melted yo
*1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1. Take a deep breath. Find your zen before you begin making a pie crust. Understand your massive flaws with pie crustery and realize you will never become Joy the Baker without constant practice, and today will be the mo’fuckin’ day, son. Then eat your words and save your tears for halfway down this adventure.

2. Pull out your food processor, or if you’re lazy like me, hunt for your pastry blender and waste more of your time looking for the damn thing then if you just set up the food processor. Once found, revel in the fact that you don’t have to wash several pieces of equipment, just a bowl and an iron fist, guys.

2 1/2. This is basically optional. At this point I pulled out this huge cruise-liner branded pimp cup that used to light up at the bottom, (but I ruined when I ran it through the dishwater) and fill that sucker up with a couple of cubes of ice and some good ol’ tap water. My straight tap isn’t ice cold, so like, this is as best as I’m gonna get, baby. Reserve extra water for drinking, because I support a hydrated body, yo.

3. Sift your flour into the bowl only if you, ya know, feel like it. I did for some crazy reason, and I’m still confused as to why. Take your other dry ingredients and like throw ’em in there. Fluff that shit around. Let yo’ self feel fancy.

4. Grab your butter and your AWESOME palm oil derived organic gluten-free GMO-free (vegan too? I’m just throwing words around now) shortening because TO-DAY IS THE DAY YOU FINALLY USE SHORTENING DAMMIT.
A few notes here. Please pay attention to the ingredients pay attention to the ingredients I beg you to stop dancing to Chromeo long enough and read the fucking ingredients. I, just like Alice in Wonderland, give good advice but I seldom follow it. Instead of adding 1/2 cup of butter and 1/2 cup of shortening, I understood this in my pea-brain as HALF A STICK of butter.
NO THIS IS WRONG STOP. PLEASE. YOU WILL HAVE A MELTDOWN WHEN YOU REALIZE YOUR CRUST IS A FUCKING CRACKER OH DEAR GOD WHY DO I ALWAYS DO THIS WHY

5. Once you’ve grabbed the correct amount of fat and shit you gotta cut in, cut that shit into small enough chunks and murder it with your pastry blender. Straight up punch at your flour. Let me tell you, it’s certainly therapeutic while you realize you’re slightly off-kilter.
This is really why I bake. I might punch people for real if I didn’t.
Once it looks kind of like mealy and crumbly and shit you’ve done good, pig.

6. Start adding in the water a tablespoon at a time and mixing around with a wood spoon or some fork. I don’t know u, I don’t know your life. whatever works man. Just try not to use your hot human hands, you’ll melt the butter and Julia Child will cry.
Be sure you once again READ THE INGREDIENTS because clearly reading isn’t my strong suit, and since I was gonna use the reserved water for drinking, I was like “hey! I’m gonna be smart and STOP using the tablespoon because I have it covered in shortening, wow there is a lot of shortening floating in my water” and I decided to start using the teaspoon. This would be fine because I know that 3 teaspoons make 1 tablespoon. The problem was, I didn’t pay attention and just started randomly throwing water in there. i lost count after the 3rd actual tablespoon.
I am proof that society has failed our children.

7. If you can pick up some of the dough, squeeze it in your hands and it doesn’t crumble apart totally u good. Now do the patented Nutmeg(TM) lazy method of rolling out dough by placing dishtowels down and then a hard surface that you sprinkle with flour. My new favorite has become the back of a wooding cheese cutting board.
Look, if there’s one thing my generation is good at, it’s at least being highly resourceful, okay?
Dump the contents of your bowl, and say a silent prayer to the deity(ies) of your choice.
Maaaaaaybe this is wrong. Maaaaaaybe I have no idea what I’m doing. But that’s just a hunch. So uh, stare at your fucking dry ass mess of a dough and take pictures for snap, and add it to your story so your friends know u ain’t no basic bitch. This way when you finish chronicling your baking adventure you look like a fancy magic lady. Ain’t no thang.
just be sure to not cry into the dry ass mess because trust me, the dough doesn’t need your salty tears.

8. At this point, I started slapping at the dry mess and pushing all of the crumbly bits together almost like I was kneading it, because I am dumb and a horrible baker why does anybody follow me?
I literally watch video after video after video of how to make pie crust, and I fail at it. I fail at it miserably. (but this time it’s because I you know have a lack of reading comprehension skills and like can’t count lololololololollll)
But hey! If you got friends who don’t ever eat home-made baked goods, or you know, ever go to nice bakeries, they can’t compare your shitty baked crap to professionals! So you’ll always come out shining, eh???? It’s like always going on a first date with somebody who’s never dated before. How can he know you’re actually crass or lack basic hygiene skills when he can’t compare you to more beautiful women who wash their hair more than twice a week! Ehhhh??? it’s how i make myself feel better, let me have this pls

9. Once you’ve slap-sobbed your crumble shit together, try rolling it out. Just like yeah. When your sister comes around and makes fun of you for being a horrible baker, give back a witty insult (or you know, you thought was witty) and try not to show the hurt and pain you feel inside. This is essential for good flaky pie crusts.
Once it’s been rolled out to like less than 1/2 an inch thick, you can either roll it up on your pin (and ruin it like I always do) or you can fold it up like a weird round napkin and just place it in your pie plate and unfold it.
Trim off the edges, and do some shit with it. Decorate it, eat it, I don’t care. It’s your thaaang.
I have no cute cookie cutters, so I pulled out my Ateco piping tips and just fuckin’ cut out rounds with the bottom and layered them as a cute crust. cute, in the looses sense of the term.
Pop that whole sucker in the fridge and ignore it like how boys ignore your cute flirty texts.

10. Pull out your stand mixer because you’re lazy like me and start dumping all of the sugars and the cocoa powder. Start pacing around the room when you realize that you actually don’t have cornmeal but corn starch and you’re baking in broad daylight in nothing but a sports bra and your hideous yellow sweatpants. You ain’t gonna leave because that requires you to have to brush your hair, wash your face, put makeup on, brush your teeth I mean jesus christ I can’t do everything
Just grab your corn starch and just pretend it’s the same thing. Just pretend. Like close your eyes when you eat the pie. Who’s gonna know?
It thickens the pie, and isn’t that kind of the point of the cornmeal??? Right???
I have no idea i have never eaten chess pie before if this is a cardinal sin, please, you may serve my dry flesh to the baking gods

11. Crack your eggs and beat ’em up until well combined. Throw in your evaporated milk that you measured out because you bought too big of a can and due to lack of comprehension skills now have some evaporated milk sitting in your fridge, waiting to be used, sobbing itself to sleep.
Oh yeah, also throw in your butter and vanilla.

12. Be better than the boys who ignore your texts and retrieve your pie crust and pour all of your filling into it. Bake it in your preheated 350 degree oven for like 20 minutes or so? Up to 45 I guess. Just keep shakin’ at it until that center looks set and develops some weird crunchy looking crust. That’s the good stuff.

13. Remove from the oven and resist that humanly animal urge to plunge yourself face first into your pie. Trust me, that shit will burn. Oh and you should let it sit and shit. I don’t really know why because there is nothing wrong with eating hot runny chocolate anything, but hey! For baking! Leave it alone for like 20 minutes or as long as you can stand smelling the most delicious chocolatey thing you have ever baked.


Guys, I’m not even kidding. This is probably the most delicious thing i’ve made, and I still fucked it all up. Bless.

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As you can see here I cannot be bothered to cut butter in to small pieces so u be ok friends
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Situations such as these are brought onto us by (a) higher being(s) to remind us who the real bakers are from the faker bakers, and we all know where I land squarely on that. πŸ˜‰ faker baker this is my punishment
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Here is photographic evidence to show you what dry ass dough looks like. If it’s this gross looking you did everything wrong and i am sorry u suck as much as me. my condolences. it never gets easier.

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I wish i looked this good with my bumpy uneven skin. maybe boys would finally want to eat me TAKE ME OUT ON A DATE
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this is what heaven looks like: molten chocolate

So I’ve got another part of this 2 part “southern adventure”. It’s gonna be a drink! HOO HOO HOO! I’ll link it right here when it’s up. ❀

EDIT: Here it is!

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6 thoughts on “A touch southern, I guess — Chocolate Chess Pie

    • I’m happy dancing that you found my blog and liked it enough to follow me!!! πŸ˜€ Thank you! You’re so sweet! πŸ˜€

      and this pie is probably not true to it’s roots. πŸ˜› I’m sure the Coalition for Chess Pie Keeping in the south is gonna burn me at the stake. πŸ˜‰

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