Oh, I know what you’re thinking… Bosslady, it’s WINTER – WHY IS THERE A PICTURE OF SWEET POTATO PIE?! WITH FALL LEAVES, NO LESS!!
Whoa, calm down. Please don’t yell at me. Save your CAPS. I dig your feelings… Yes, these photos were taken while the trees were purging themselves of their leaves.
Yes, these photos are fall-centric, but can you blame me?
First – Fall is beautiful.
Second – It’s pie! Who says no to pie?!
So allow me to show you something that’s out of season, a breath of fresh air, because I’m sure you’ve had your fill of peppermint this or that.
This is not a “How to make a pie” post, I’m sorry… One day soon I will show you how to get your crust right and your filling tight. Today I’m all about searing pie in your eye sockets.
Peruse at leisure, and flow with me,
I’ve got a pie story.
Back in the day (1999, 2000), when hip hop was still good to listen to, I hated sweet potato everything. Hated with the passion. I hated sweet potatoes so much I don’t have a good metaphor to describe my hatred.
And for no good reason. Perhaps it was the color, or maybe because sometimes people called them yams, and let’s be serious, would you eat something called YAMS?
I wanted nothing to do with them.
Then I got knocked up and shacked up with my now husband in a neighborhood that gave one the impression you were living in suburbia. The neighbors were nice, helpful, and generous. It was a refreshing change from the hood we came from. We wasted no time making friends, forming tight bonds. One such neighbor became one of my husband’s closest friends, a friendship that continues to this day. This neighbor and friend has a father who baked sweet potato pies and would always, always bring us one.
I am ashamed to say, a few pies went untouched. By me… I mean, who eats something called YAMS?
My husband would tear into them with the fervor of a starved convict. I didn’t always trust his judgement, though. The man will eat anything so long as it is doused in granulated sugar.
Then one day he asked me to try it, to be open minded for f***’s sake and just try the damn pie.
So I did. Reluctantly…
Holy S***! was my first reaction.
Holy S***, I’m an idiot! Was my second reaction.
Never again did I miss a chance to shove sweet potato pie down my throat whenever the opportunity arose. And when I finally learned to bake, 6 long years later, I wanted to bake that very same pie. Except, neighbor’s papa was not giving up the recipe goodies. I was left to recreate this sweet potato pie from memory, working my brain overtime to remember every flavor of that delicious pie.
I think I’m getting close…
I cook the sweet potatoes in a spiced mixture, evaporated milk and heavy cream until the sweet potatoes are tender. Then I puree the whole thing, wait for the puree to cool a bit and add eggs to bind.
Yes, my methods may be a bit unorthodox, this is not your average pie making – but trust me, it works. What results is a creamy, compact pie that is full of spicy sweet potato flavor with a hint of lemon zest for brightness. I bake this pie twice a year, I bake 2 pies at once, and both pies are gone in a matter of days. I don’t play…
And now I’m saying that yes, there is snow on the ground in some places. Yes, it’s cold like a mofo out there. Yes, you’re taking down your Christmas tree. I am fully aware of that, but good pie shouldn’t have a season.
So give cranberry and peppermint a break, and bake yourself a pie. Well, 2 pies – Cause I’m all about spreading that wealth.