millionaire’s pie

I have a new pie to tell you about. 

This, I’m sure, comes as no surprise, considering my job is all about the pie and, as a result, my spare time is spent researching new recipes about pie, watching videos about pie, and ogling fancy cookbooks about pie. I talk about pie (I can really talk about pie), and I spend enormous swaths of my time making, tasting, and photographing pie. Most nights, I even dream about pie. Pie, pie, piepiepie — 

You get the point. 

***

Interlude: a brief marital conversation

Just the other day, my husband informed me he’s jealous of me. 

“Jealous of me,” I said, mildly thrilled by this new insight. “Say more!”

“It’s just that your creative projects are so easy to do,” he said. “They don’t take much time or money, and you can do them whenever.” 

And then, worried he might’ve overstepped, he quickly added, “Not that it doesn’t take skill to do what you do — I didn’t mean that.”

He’s right, though. Cooking is generally a low-cost, creative outlet, especially compared to the sort of expensive creative projects of my husband’s choosing: a new shop, an addition, a house. 

“There are smaller creative projects you could do,” I pointed out. “A bucket of paint doesn’t cost that much.” 

“Yeah, but then I’d have to do them.”

“Well now that’s a different problem,” I said, thus effectively concluding that particular brief marital conversation.

***

Back to pie. 

When one of the other Magpie bakers recommended this pie — Millionaire’s — I went home and made it right away. The combo of chocolate, pecans, and coconut remind me of the frosting for German chocolate cake. Still warm from the oven, it’s gooey and lush. Cooled to room temp, it’s like turtle candy, those pretzel-pecan-caramel confections. Either way, it’s dangerously addictive. 

Unless you’re the rest of my family. They’re all like, “Millionaire’s pie? Meh. Pass the sweet potato pie, please.” 

And my mother, bless her heart, thinks it’s downright horrid. “A plain pecan pie is so much better,” she scolded, her nose tipped skyward. “The chocolate and coconut ruin it.” 

But I disagree. This isn’t a pecan pie (and for the record, I, too, think pecan pies that have been “enhanced” with chocolate are blech) — it’s a Millionaire’s Pie, which is a different beast altogether. 

And when I informed my mother, with my nose skyward, that these pies go like hotcakes and that customers, with a glint of panic in their eyes, return in search of more, she was duly chastened (though she still claims the pie’s an abomination).

Cautionary note: this is not the sort of pie you eat by the piece. Each bite is like — no, is — a candy bar so go slow.  

Millionaire’s Pie
Adapted from Midwest Living.

For the coconut, I’ve used a blend of unsweetened and sweetened flakes, as well as coconut chips — it’s all good.

1 parbaked butter crust
1 cup chocolate chips
1 cup flaked coconut
1 cup chopped pecans
1 cup white corn syrup
3 eggs
⅓ cup white sugar
⅓ cup brown sugar
⅓ cup melted butter
1 teaspoon vanilla
¼ teaspoon salt

In the parbaked pie shell, sprinkle the chocolate chips, then the coconut, and then the pecans. In a separate bowl, whisk together the remaining ingredients and then pour into the pie shell.

Bake the pie at 350 degrees for 45 to 55 minutes or until the filling is set.

Serve warm or at room temp, with or without whipped cream. Pairs wonderfully with a cup of hot coffee.

This same time, years previous: Friday fun: books and movies, in the sweet kitchen, the quotidian (12.1.14), Thanksgiving of 2013, potatoes in cream with gruyere.