Katharine Hepburn Brownie Pie

There's a photo of me from the fourth grade: I have my hair curled (it was then in its pre-pubescent stick straight stage) and piled high on top of my head. I'm wearing a blue blazer and turtleneck, and holding a wooden tennis racquet, with over-sized sunglasses completing the look. The occasion was a class biography project in which we were to impersonate one of our heroes and I, in case you haven't guessed from my surely obvious costuming, was Katharine Hepburn.

At some point prior I had graduated from Shirley Temple movies to those of Hepburn and Grant, Hepburn and Tracy, Hepburn, Hepburn, Hepburn. This little obsession was perhaps prompted by my mother and grandmother, who presented Kate as the feisty, whip smart, and athletic alternative to the other silver screen starlets my classmates were ogling over (likely via a certain "classic movie" issue of the very '90s pre-teen rag, American Girl).

Me as Katharine Hepburn, 4th grade

I admired Katharine for all of those reasons my elders saw her as an alternative role model. As a nerdy tomboy, I identified with Kate's Bringing up Baby shenanigans, leopard in tow, her cunning smarts that bested Spencer Tracy in Desk Set, and her take no guff attitude in Pat and Mike. I also just found her hilarious. Subsequently, I devoured her autobiography, Me: Stories of My Life, with abandon, and upon learning that as a child, she lived as a boy for the summer, with her parent's buy-in, considered doing the same. Six or so years later, then a sophomore in high school, I got in a heated argument with my honors English teacher who insisted that Katharine and that other Hepburn, Audrey, were sisters. I told her she was wrong, exclaiming, " I know for a fact-- I've read Me!," "So have I," she countered. Well, someone was lying and it wasn't me. 

Later in college, my older friend Ben who worked at Houghton Mifflin for his first job out of school, sent a spare copy of Ruth Reichl's bright yellow Gourmet Cookbook to my group house in Ann Arbor. The first recipe I discovered and ever made from there was Katharine Hepburn's brownies, sourced allegedly from the Hepburn family by a friend of food writer Laurie Colwin's. I've worn that page (688) out, so much that the cookbook now opens directly to it.

The recipe makes the best brownies-- fudgy and dense, they're the only ones I ever make. They're also incredibly simple-- fitting I think, for Kate-- a woman who appreciated luxuries, no doubt, but wouldn't let her get to carried away about them, always tempering her approach with that stubborn blue-blooded New England practicality.

Here, I have Hepburn's brownies the pie treatment, altering the recipe just slightly (I reduced the sugar by 1/4th of a cup) and using it as the filling in a pie crust. It's a Chocolate Chess Pie, essentially, but the richest one you ever had. The added salt and bite of the crust balances that out a bit, and of that, I think Kate would approve.

Katharine Hepburn Brownie Pie

Ingredients
Nothing in the house pie crust, halved
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, cut into tablespoons
2 ounces unsweetened chocolate, chopped
3/4 cup sugar
2 large eggs
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon salt

Directions
1. Prepare half of Nothing in the House pie crust as per the directions, reserving the leftover egg for an egg wash and saving other half of the recipe in the freezer for a future pie. Chill dough at least one hour before rolling and fitting into a greased and floured 9-inch pie pan. Wrap with plastic wrap and place in fridge until ready to use. 

2. Preheat oven to 325 degrees F. In a medium-sized saucepan, melt butter with chocolate over low heat. Remove from heat and stir in sugar, eggs, and vanilla, beating until well mixed. Stir in flour and salt just until combined.

3. Pour filling into chilled pie crust and bake for 40-45 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Let cool, then serve just warm or at room temperature. 

Related recipes:
Berger Cookie Pie
Chocolate Almond Cake
Chocolate Chess Pie
Cranberry Chocolate Chess Pie

Cranberry Chocolate Chess Pie

HELLO FEBRUARY! Though I went on two long-weekend adventures during the first month of 2015-- one to a cabin in Virginia for New Year's and another cross-country skiing in West Virginia-- the rest of my free time has largely been spent at home-- reading and writing, knitting and watching movies, listening to podcasts and making food. I've really been feeling the winter nesting alone time vibes; honoring those feelings has felt both productive and relaxing. I'm not sure if February will prompt a changing tide, but I'm open to whatever it sends my way.

In the first few years after I graduated college, my friends and I self-published a collaborative literary journal/zine called The Dovetail Collective. The theme and concept was constantly changing, but each issue had a regular column where members shared what they were currently reading, watching, and listening to. In what were largely pre-social media days (most of us had Myspace pages, but that's about it), it was a good way to get reliable book, movie, and music recommendations. In the spirit of that and my especially bookwormish tendencies as of late, here's what I've been reading/watching/listening:

Reading: Carolyn Chute's Treat Us Like Dogs and We Will Become Wolves. I've had the pleasure of getting to know Carolyn the past few years through NELP. She writes about a side of Maine-- her side-- that's not regularly depicted in the coastal tourist paradise stereotype we're often fed and her stories are raw and real and complicated. I also just started Emily St. John Mandel's Station Eleven and am totally enthralled.

Watching: Star Trek: The Next Generation. Yep, when I finally finish the sweater I'm knitting, there will be many hours of TNG invested in those stitches. Also, Broad City. For movies I recently enjoyed Selma and Iranian vampire movie, A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night.

Listening: Serial and the new NPR podcast Invisibilia (one of the producers, Lulu Miller, was actually a member of The Dovetail Collective). Still blasting D'Angelo's Black Messiah in the work headphones and have been spinning Jake Xerxes Fussell's new self-titled album on Paradise of Bachelors.

What have I been baking? Along with MAV's Coconut Chocolate Chip Cookies, you're seeing it right here. Hoosier Mama Pie Company's Cranberry Chess Pie has become a go-to favorite, as I've said before and I was planning to make it for Christmas. When I got home, though, I learned that my mom had already made it for Thanksgiving, so I considered how I might alter the recipe for something new. I thought cranberries would pair well with a bittersweet chocolate and it turns out, they do-- resembling cherry cordials in flavor (another family holiday standby). The recipe whips up pretty quickly and is a good pick for Valentine's Day or for just sittin' at home watching Star Trek and knitting a sweater on a Sunday afternoon.

Cranberry Chocolate Chess Pie
Inspired by Hoosier Mama's Cranberry Chess Pie

Ingredients
Nothing in the House pie crust, halved
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter
2 ounces bittersweet chocolate (60% or higher)
3/4 cup white sugar
1 Tablespoon yellow cornmeal
2 large eggs, beaten well
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon orange zest
2 cups fresh cranberries, halved

Directions
1. Prepare half of Nothing in the House pie crust as per the directions, reserving the leftover egg for an egg wash. Chill dough at least one hour before rolling and fitting into a greased and floured 9-inch pie pan. Let chill in the fridge while you prepare the filling. Meanwhile, preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

2. Place the butter and chocolate in a small saucepan over low heat, stirring occasionally. Cook until both butter and chocolate are melted into a smooth chocolate sauce, 5-7 minutes. Remove from heat and pour into a medium bowl.

3. Add the sugar and cornmeal to the chocolate mixture and stir until well combined. Then add the eggs, vanilla, salt, and orange zest. Stir with a wooden spoon until evenly mixed. Gently fold in the cranberries.

4. Pour the batter into the pie shell and smooth with a rubber spatula. Bake for 40-45 minutes, rotating pie 180 degrees halfway through. When done, filling will be puffed and set and crust will be golden brown. Remove pie from oven and let cool until warm, at least 30 minutes. Serve warm or at room temperature with chocolate shavings, if desired.



Related recipes:
Cranberry Chess Pie
Cranberry Hand Pies
Cranberry Pie
Chocolate Chess Pie

The Life of Pie on American Food Roots

Have you visited American Food Roots yet? If not you should (and the Washington Post thinks so too). It’s a superb new food site by a team of four talented and seasoned food journalists Carol Guensburg, Michele Kayal, Domenica Marchetti, and the editor of NPR’s Kitchen Window Bonny Wolf. As a folklorist and home baker, it’s a dream come true, as it explores what we eat, why we eat it, and what that says about our identity, our place, and American society at large. There you'll find profiles on the likes of farmers and producers like Lee Calhoun, a North Carolina heirloom apple orchardist and author of Old Southern Apples, articles such as the one on the University of Michigan Culinary Archive and its curator Jan Longone, and recipes old and new, for delights like milk punch, a Ben Franklin favorite drink currently enjoying a comeback.  I’m excited to see this project continue to grow, and I hope to be a little part of it as it does.

For last month's launch I was honored to contribute a piece, The Life of Pie, on the ritual of pie making. It is that ritual--the process and connection to others that it entails, that is the main reason I like baking pie, and making and thinking and writing about food in general. These themes combine my personal and academic interests, and help me to envision myself as part of a community of bakers and home cooks and writers, past and present, instead of just a lone gal in the kitchen or at my computer screen.  The piece also features a recipe for Chocolate Chess Pie and a fun illustration by Elizabeth Graeber from our Pie Amanac of a Nothing-in-the-House Blueberry Icebox Pie.

Congratulations to the women of American Food Roots, for their launch, recent press, and promising future. Check out their site, follow them on Facebook and Twitter, and enjoy the food and the stories behind them.

Chocolate Chess Pie

Have you seen those brownie pans that are designed so that every piece is a crusty edge piece? Well what about something for those who like those more rare gooey middle squares?? Where's our special pan?? Well, I think I've figured it out, and the answer is... Chocolate Chess Pie. Yep, this pie filling is pretty much all oozy, chocolatey, "middle" pieces with none of the crispier bites. PLUS there is the added bonus of a buttery pastry crust. A double temptation that might even win over those stalwart edge lovers.

I've talked previously about Chess pie and its nomenclature speculations here. The chocolate cousin, however, is a little bit different. Though it lives up to its name in basic ingredients and simplicity of preparation, I'm not sure I would call it a true Nothing-in-the-House pie, the way regular Chess pie is, for chocolate was historically expensive and a bit of a luxury. According to Nancie McDermott in her Southern Pies (buy this cookbook, already!), chocolate is a relative newcomer on the Southern pie scene. Though as an ingredient, it appears in cookbooks such as The Virginia House-Wife in 1824, it isn't used in pies until the early twentieth century. Even so, it is still a straightforward Southern classic that is just divine.

I made up my recipe from a few different versions. Originally I used one cup of sugar, but I'm reducing it to 3/4 cup here, as it was just a tad sweet for me. But as my co-worker Helen matter-of-factly said, "Chess pie is supposed to be sweet," so adjust according to your taste. It would also be delicious with a splash of bourbon or a dash of orange zest.

Chocolate Chess Pie

Ingredients
Nothing-in-the-House Pie Crust, halved
1/2 c. (1 stick) butter
2 oz. (2 squares) bittersweet chocolate (I used 60%)
3/4 c. white sugar
1 Tblsp. yellow cornmeal
2 large eggs, beaten well
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1/4 tsp. salt

Directions
1. Prepare half of the Nothing-in-the-House pie crust as per the directions. Chill dough at least 1 hour before rolling out and fitting into a greased and floured 9-inch pie pan. Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F. Put the rolled and fitted crust back in the fridge while you prepare the filling.

2. Place the butter and chocolate in a small saucepan and over low heat, cook until they melt together and make a smooth chocolate sauce, about 5-7 minutes. Remove from the heat and pour into a medium bowl.

3. Add the sugar and cornmeal to the chocolate mixture and stir until well combined. Then add the eggs, vanilla, and salt. Stir with a wooden spoon until evenly mixed.

4. Pour the filling into the pie crust and place the pie on the bottom shelf of the oven. Bake until the pie filling has puffed and formed a crusty top, and crust is golden brown, about 50-60 minutes. Remove pie from oven and let cool until still slightly warm, about 30 minutes. Serve warm or at room temperature with a scoop of bourbon whipped cream.

I brought this pie into work yesterday and shared it with my co-workers who gave it rave reviews. Though it was very very good, I think we all needed to indulge in a little stress eating to take our minds off of the election happening later. But it all turned out rather well, and it looks like we'll have a pie-loving president for another four years!