Santa Fe New Mexican

The chocolate pie we all deserve

- By Allison Robicelli

It shouldn’t be hard to find a decent chocolate cream pie. It’s chocolate pudding, set in pie crust, topped with whipped cream. That’s it. You could use pudding from a box, a store-bought graham cracker crust and cover the whole thing with Reddi-wip from a can, and it would be a dadgum good pie.

And yet, for the first eight years of my marriage, the ultimate chocolate cream pie was my husband’s personal white whale; this is the story about how I drove a harpoon straight through that whale’s creamy, chocolaty heart.

When I first met Matt on a beersoaked sidewalk in 2005, we were both working as pastry chefs, so we implicitly knew that a potential relationsh­ip could, if we desired, contain a substantia­l amount of outstandin­g chocolate cream pie.

What I didn’t know at the time was that Matt was actively engaged in a yearslong feud that was not based on pudding, but principle. On an early date, he told me the tale of a night when he was stricken with a craving for chocolate cream pie. He walked to a nearby bakery and bought an entire pie for the suspicious­ly low price of $4.95. He went back home, cut himself a slice, and the pie was horrible. “Horrible!” he shouted to me wide-eyed in the middle of a romantic restaurant, slamming his hand on the table with the ferocious passion of a man who took pie extremely seriously. I had never been more turned on in my life.

He recounted its shortcomin­gs: The insipid crust was neither tender nor flaky. The chocolate pudding’s primary note was of spare change with an undercurre­nt of vanilla body spray, telltale signs that the pudding had been mass-produced in a factory. On top, a chalky halo of “whipped cream,” which he said using air quotes.

He became obsessed with finding respectabl­e chocolate cream pie in our little corner of the city, which, at the time, was not yet sophistica­ted enough to have a Starbucks. As he rambled on about all the subsequent pies that had disappoint­ed him, I realized he was not searching merely for a pie that tasted good, but a pie that respected him.

That’s what all of us want from pie, isn’t it? We want a pie that sees us as someone who is worthy of excellence.

Eight years later, Matt and I opened a bakery, and I realized we had inadverten­tly created a loophole that allowed me to at last make the chocolate cream pie of his dreams.

I spent several days fussing with every element to get it just right, and used the finest ingredient­s I could find. It was a pie specifical­ly designed to meet ridiculous­ly high standards; the pie I knew I’d make for him the night he first told me of his quest. He told me it was perfect; I told him, “I told you so.”

There has never been a sweeter pie. Two years later, Matt developed a serious dairy allergy and never had the pie again; we closed the bakery and moved away. No one has seen this pie of legend since, but today it arises, just as humanity seems to need it the most.

CHOCOLATE CREAM PIE

Makes 8 to 10 servings; total time: 4 hours, 40 minutes This pie is only as good the chocolate you use. And if you’re going to treat yourself to a chocolate cream pie, why hold back? Buy the kind you most enjoy savoring, be it semisweet or dark. Similarly, if you’re not making your own pie crust, spend a few extra dollars on a premade one that’s all-butter. This pie is meant to be indulgent.

You may have leftover pudding and/or whipped cream once you have assembled the pie.

For the pie

2 large egg yolks

¾ cup granulated sugar, divided 4 cups half-and-half

½ cup cornstarch

¼ cup Dutch process unsifted cocoa powder

10 ounces chopped chocolate, preferably semisweet

2 tablespoon­s unsalted butter 1¼ teaspoons kosher salt 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 1 blind-baked pie crust, storebough­t or homemade, cooled For the whipped cream

2 cups heavy cream

½ cup unsifted confection­ers’ sugar 4 ounces mascarpone

2 teaspoons vanilla extract 1 good-quality chocolate bar, for shaving

Make the pie: In a small bowl, whisk together the egg yolks and ¼ cup sugar until combined (the mixture should be thick and pale in color as you whisk the ingredient­s together). Set aside.

In a medium heavy-bottomed saucepan over high heat, whisk together the half-and-half, the remaining ½ cup sugar, cornstarch and cocoa powder and cook, whisking constantly until the mixture begins to steam, about 5 minutes. Add the chopped chocolate and continue to whisk until the pudding comes to a boil. The mixture will start to thicken fairly fast.

Reduce the heat to medium and continue to cook, whisking constantly, for 1 minute, then remove from the heat; the mixture should be thick, like pudding. Add the egg yolk mixture and butter and whisk vigorously to combine, for 1 minute. Whisk in the salt and vanilla until combined.

Pour the pudding into the blind-baked pie shell (you do not have to wait for it to cool if you’re pressed for time), cover with a piece of plastic wrap and gently press it to the surface of the pudding. Refrigerat­e the pie for about 4 hours.

Make the whipped cream: At least 15 minutes before you’re ready to serve the pie, in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment (or using a handheld mixer and a free-standing large bowl), combine the heavy cream, confection­ers’ sugar, mascarpone and vanilla. Beat the ingredient­s on medium-low until fully mixed, then increase the speed to high and whip the mixture until stiff peaks form, about 2 minutes. Pile the whipped cream on top of the pie, then use a vegetable peeler to shower it with chocolate shavings. Refrigerat­e until set, about 10 minutes.

Serve cold.

Nutrition: calories: 737; total fat: 51 g; saturated fat: 29 g; cholestero­l: 158 mg; sodium: 459 mg; carbohydra­tes: 61 g; dietary fiber: 3 g; sugars: 37 g; protein: 8g.

 ?? TOM MCCORKLE/FOR THE WASHINGTON POST ?? A chocolate cream pie designed to meet ridiculous­ly high standards.
TOM MCCORKLE/FOR THE WASHINGTON POST A chocolate cream pie designed to meet ridiculous­ly high standards.

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