Grandma’s chocolate pie
There are pies and then there is my grandma’s chocolate pie.
It’s a luscious chocolate custard resting on a flaky, almost salty crust, topped with a springy meringue. For me, it’s la pièce de résistance and whether times are good or times are bad, it’s always welcome and appropriate.
I can’t remember a period in my life when it wasn’t my favorite dessert. My family has always been pie eaters, but we fall into several camps: there are the peach enthusiasts, the pecan lovers and then there are those of us who prefer the chocolate. My mom loves the chocolate best so that’s probably why it’s my (and my brother’s) favorite as well. But that doesn’t explain why Mom doesn’t make it. Nope, only one person can make my grandma’s chocolate pie and that’s my grandma.
When I went to visit her in August, I told her I wanted a chocolate pie. That was no surprise—I always insist that she bake me a chocolate pie when I visit. But this time I was determined to document her making it so I could try and recreate it back here in NY.
She had all the ingredients spread out on the counter and then I saw it: her recipe card. I hadn’t noticed before that she uses a recipe—I always assumed she baked chocolate pie from memory. The old card was yellowing and splattered with spots. And it called for Oleo as one of the ingredients. What a treasure! Before we started baking, I decided to take a photo of the card and as the light was waning in the kitchen, I took the card out to the front porch to shoot it before she started cooking.
I ended up spending more time than I meant to photographing the card. And as I saw the sun setting, I realized I should probably go back inside to watch her make the pie. Unfortunately, as I walked into the kitchen Grandma was sliding the chocolate pie into the oven. Curses! My original assumption was correct: she did not need a recipe card to make chocolate pie. And I had spent so much time shooting the dang card, I had missed my opportunity observe her crafting a chocolate pie.
Of course, being a brat, I whined: “Why didn’t you wait?” She replied that she didn’t know how long I’d be taking photos of the card and she had other important things to do, such as baking another pie—this one apple. “You’re welcome to photograph me making that,” she said. She had, however, left me a consolation prize: I could lick the bowl.
I’m disappointed that I missed the chance to photograph her making a chocolate pie but at least I have a photo of her recipe card. I know that it’s not quite the same, but it’ll just have to do, until next time.
—————
Would you like more Homesick Texan? Well, I’ve started offering additional recipes for paid subscribers to help with the costs of running the site. While I’m not taking anything away, if you’d like to support Homesick Texan and have access to exclusive, never-seen-before subscriber-only posts, please consider becoming a member; annual subscriptions are as low as $25. Thank you for reading, your consideration, and your support!
—————
Grandma’s chocolate pie
Ingredients
Ingredients for the pie:
- 4 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa or 1.5 ounces baking chocolate
- 3/4 cups granulated sugar
- 5 tablespoons all-purpose flour
- 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
- 2 large egg yolks, lightly beaten
- 1 1/2 cups whole milk
- 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 1 tablespoon unsalted butter
- 1 unbaked 9-inch shallow piecrust
Ingredients for the meringue:
- 2 large egg whites
- 1/8 teaspoon kosher salt
- 4 tablespoons granulated sugar
Instructions
- Preheat the oven to 350° F.
- In a saucepot, whisk together the cocoa, sugar, flour, salt, egg yolks, and milk.
- On medium heat, cook while stirring until it bubbles and thickens, about 5 to 10 minutes. If it becomes lumpy, just beat out the lumps. (It will not get any thicker in the oven so cook until it’s as thick as you want it.)
- Remove the chocolate filling from the heat and stir in the vanilla and butter.
- Meanwhile, as you make the custard, place the uncooked piecrust in a shallow 9-inch pie pan. Poke holes in the piecrust with a fork, then bake in the oven until lightly browned, about 20 minutes.
- To make the meringue, place the egg whites, salt, and sugar in a mixing bowl, then mix on high until fluffy and filled with soft peaks, about 3-5 minutes.
- Once the crust is browned, remove from the oven. Spread the chocolate custard evenly into the shell, then evenly top with the beaten egg whites. Bake uncovered until the peaks on the meringue are lightly browned, about 10 minutes. Serve warm.
- Grandma says: “It’s real good hot, wonderful cold and you can even eat it frozen—then it’s like a popsicle!”
It's hard to believe that some people have never had chocolate pie, but it's true. When I first came to Utah nobody even knew what I was talking about when I wanted chocolate meringue pie, all they knew was chocolate cream. Not as good. Anyway, I've been trying to get the choc/meringue down for years now, and this is the one. I've tried foodnetwork, Martha Stewart, etc. THIS IS THE ONE. The only thing I will change next time I make it will be to triple or maybe even quadruple the meringue because this recipe doesn't use near enough. The crust and filling are perfect though. Thank you!
My husband's favorite pie is chocolate. His "Aint Honey" used to make him one every year at Christmas and gave me her recipe when we got married. It was written in pencil on a scrap of paper. I cherished having that recipe, but a countertop flood (coffee pot) did it in. Thank you for sharing your grandmother's recipe which is just like Honey's. And my husband will thank you, too!
This was the first chocolate pie I've made, my wifes gma tried to make me one to no avail so I tried this recipe its awesome I made the pie crust which made it that much better. Thanks again now I'm tryin with the chocolate squares :). Godfrey
I made it tonight. Delicious. Unbelievable! I could eat the whole pie. My whole family loved it. Quite easy to make with standard pantry ingredients, I love that!
Great pie! I made this for a bunch of people who came over for dinner, everyone liked it including someone who is not a big fan of chocolate. Thanks for posting.