Okay, this one is a winner. I haven't made this in a very long time, and you'll see why. My desserts are, as has been mentioned, legendary. This is one of the easier ones, but it still packs a wallop.
This is a variation on what has been called Cool Whip Mincemeat Pie, but it's more of a simple French Silk Pie without the raw eggs. The original faux mince pie is basically Cool Whip, canned vanilla frosting, and chopped jellybeans or gumdrops. The chocolate variation is chocolate Cool Whip, canned chocolate frosting, I like to use a cream cheese chocolate but your mileage may vary, and you can throw in chocolate chips or not to taste. I've got a chocolate ready-made crumb crust, you can get these in the aisle with the pudding mixes.
My advice is to go with semi-sweet chocolate chips if you plan to use them at all. You'll understand why in a minute, and people who have made this tell me they have added a flavored liqueur or a flavoring extract successfully, but that experiments with Italian soda flavorings were not repeated, which you will again understand shortly.
Put the thawed Cool Whip into a bowl, add the can of frosting, and you can use a whisk or a wooden spoon to mix them together, you can even use a mixer if you want but I don't because I sort of like the marbled look. Fold in your chocolate chips, and spoon it into a pie shell. You may have extra, and that's fine. Don't pile it too high, because it oozes.
I cannot strongly enough urge you to taste some of this stuff. Seriously. Lick the beaters, lick the spoon, lick the bowl, I don't care. But this stuff is rich, slip-into-a-coma-rich, especially if you use the chocolate cream cheese frosting, and you should know exactly how rich before you start cutting big pieces for your guests. A little goes a very long way.
Freeze it for a few hours, and serve. If you'd like to serve it chilled rather than frozen, skip the pie and just spoon it into small dessert cups.
If you make any of my recipes, it should probably be a dessert recipe. This one's easy enough to start with, and people will actually eat it.
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4 comments:
You and Mikey really need to collaborate on a cookbook.
D, if you ever write a cookbook, I can guarantee I will buy it. Possibly out of morbid curiosity. And I may even give some as gifts.
I never had a sweet tooth. My idea of desert is a slice of pound cake or corn bread with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and a drizzle of maple syrup. Simple, but not too sweet.
This thing? This shall be called, from now forward, Diabetes in a Box. I'll start working on the theme song.
I started cooking when two conditions came together, about ten years ago. First, I became a lot less dependent on amphetamines for my own well being, and second, when the nightmares and images in my head wouldn't stop, all the knives were sharp, all the guns were spotlessly clean. I found the focus on planning, chopping, prepping, getting everything right and ready, then starting the burners, oven, toaster oven, microwave - When the checkered flag drops and it's time to put heat to food, I use every device available.
But that focus, that concentration on ingredients, on a formalized set of actions, one begun when one was complete, was a place where I didn't sweat, I didn't cry, I didn't shake. I just lived in a zone.
It's funny. In a hole in the middle of the night with chaos and horror flashing and tearing all around, I was scared, sure, but I could concentrate, prioritize, calm other guys, make a defense that worked. But afterward. When the threat was over, that's when you shake and sob and stare without comprehension. Cooking puts me back in that place, where I have some control, it's a kind of managed chaos. You make all the prep, and when it starts it runs on it's own schedule, and you serve the beast. But when you get it right, it's sublime.
Maybe we could do that. We could call it the Zombie Combat cookbook, Recipes for damaged goods. Or something...
mikey
There ya go. The PTSD Cookbook: Making Dinner Without Sharp Knives, Loud Noises, Or Exposed Animal Guts.
Your title has more oomph, doesn't it. I'm actually not a hazard much around sharp knives, or I wouldn't be doing papercrafts, but still. We could get really drunk over galleys and a Spam and Cheez Whiz Quiche (With Ritz Cracker Crust) sometime, it's really the only way to eat it anyway, and I'll tell you the story.
A cookbook, though... Between us, we might be able to make Lileks hang up his keyboard.
Me, I've got a sweet tooth, though I come by it honestly, and crummy teeth which has more to do with grinding them into nothing than my eating habits. And my love for processed sugar in all the colors of the Crayola Big Box notwithstanding, I still eat more fruits and veggies than the rest of my household combined.
But I have to admit that I cook for the same reason I do practically everything else: the reactions and the anecdotes. You can't go wrong with leftover rice and food coloring, dammit.
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