Chocolate Chess Pie
a/k/a Maggie's Favorite Pie
I have three children. My daughter Maggie is my youngest, and my only girl. While my husband and I chose not to learn the gender of our babies ahead of time, I would have bet all my money that my last baby was a girl. Some call it a mother’s intuition. I call it a prayer answered.
I love my boys fiercely. But after two sons, I longed for a daughter—someone I could be best friends with, the way I was with my mother and grandmother.
I have always loved babies. I started babysitting cousins when I was just a child myself. By eleven, I had my first real babysitting job. A nun at my church, noticing how easily I connected with children, then asked me to teach CCD classes while I was still in high school. She told me teaching was my calling. Sometimes I wonder what life would have looked like if I had followed that path.
Motherhood, though, that was always the calling that echoed the loudest. I was ecstatic to have my own babies. I would have had twenty-seven of them if I had been so blessed. We conceived our first child easily, but unfortunately, I had six miscarriages before my second son was born. After a round of treatments, he arrived safely, and we assumed our family was complete.
Then, when our second son was just ten months old, I found myself pregnant again. No treatments to help us. No complications. Just a healthy, unexpected gift.
I like to think it was my grandmother’s doing. She had passed the year before while I was pregnant with my son. I didn’t get the chance to tell her—-I was afraid, after so many losses, to share the news too early.
But this time everything unfolded perfectly. Even though I suspected I was having a girl, I kept it to myself. There was still a 50/50 chance I was wrong.
At the time of my daughter’s birth, I held my breath as she emerged (for multiple reasons obviously). Was my baby healthy? Why aren’t they saying anything? Where’s the cry?
Then they placed her on me and the hazel eyes of my grandma looked up at me and I said, “Hi, Maggie. Welcome to the world.” I whispered through tears, “Grandma, you’re watching.” I felt my grandmother’s presence. That moment is etched in my soul. Maggie’s eyes locked with mine—-searching, quiet, familiar.
My grandmother would have adored her. My grandmother’s eyes were hazel gray, flecked with gold and brown. Eyes that opened one final time before she passed, with a single tear sliding down her cheek. I have those hazel eyes, so do Maggie and my son, Daniel.
Maggie is now a young adult, and is a very intelligent, independent and empathetic soul, just like my Grandma. If I had to list Maggie’s favorite things, animals would top the list. But her favorite dessert? Chocolate Chess Pie.
I didn’t grow up eating chess pies, and frankly, didn’t know what they were before I started the bakery. However, they quickly became a menu staple. These Southern custard pies, made with eggs, sugar, butter and a touch of flour or cornmeal, have a humble pantry-based simplicity. I love them more than classic custard pies. They have body, and often, a little tang from buttermilk or vinegar, and a texture that hits just right.
You may notice that this version of chess pie has no tang to it. There’s a bit of folklore surrounding chess pies. One being that when a Southern cook was asked what kind of pie she made, she replied, “It’s jes’ pie!” Over time, that was softened into “chess pie”. It’s such a basic pie that it doesn’t need a name other than “just pie”. There are other reasons, but I kind of like this one best.
Maggie’s favorite version is just the best chocolate pie you’ll ever had: a crackly top, a rich and fudgy middle. Basically, a brownie surrounded by pastry crust. Watch it closely in the oven and pull it while the center still jiggles a bit and when the edges start to poof.
But if you’d like a little tang to this pie, just substitute buttermilk for the milk.
A simple dusting of powdered sugar is all it needs when it’s cooled, but it’s wonderful dressed up with a mint ganache, salted caramel sauce or mexican chocolate spices. Just like your favorite brownie, it can go casual or festive!
Perfectly baked Chocolate Chess pies, soft in the middle but crackly and hard on the outside.
Right now, my daughter is in a difficult season of life. She is navigating health struggles I wish I could take away. Of course, I nourish her with every kind of healing food. But sometimes the greatest comfort is the familiar. The sweet. Her favorite pie will grace our table on Christmas Day.
I hope you enjoy it too.
With love,
Michelle
Chocolate Chess Pie
Ingredients:
1/4 C plus 2 T Cocoa Powder
1 1/2 C granulated sugar
2 T flour
1/4 t salt
3 oz unsalted butter, melted
3 eggs
1 t vanilla extract
1/4 C heavy cream
1/4 C whole milk
1/4 C bittersweet chocolate chips
Single crust pie shell (unbaked)
Directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
In a large bowl, whisk together dry ingredients.
Add cream, milk, and melted butter. Whisk until smooth.
Add eggs and vanilla; stir gently until combined (don’t overmix).
Sprinkle chocolate chips evenly over bottom of pie shell. Pour filling over top.
Bake 30 to 40 minutes. The edges should puff slightly and the center should should still jiggle a bit.
Cool completely. Dust with powdered sugar, or dress up with your favorite topping.