Chocolate Pudding Pie

What is one to do when pie crusts come in two-packs but your pies don’t have top layers? Make more pies! This is precisely the predicament I found myself in the other day: one extra pie crust and a craving for chocolate. The solution? Chocolate pudding pie, of course!

I take great pride in the fact that I had everything I needed to make the pudding part of the pie and I only had to buy the whipping cream, which is really something you buy as needed considering it can spoil.

This is the pie that made the non-pudding believers into a believer. No really, that’s what happened when I gave it to my friends. Someone was like “is it pudding? Because I don’t like pudding” to which I of course replied “well, technically it’s not pudding because it didn’t come from a pudding box, so I think it’s just squishy chocolate”. Obviously this is pudding but my definition of pudding is it comes from a box of Jello and contains gelatin. Apparently this is a very modern and lame definition of pudding.

Beautiful pie crust...one day, like for Thanksgiving, I'll make it for real

 I’m pretty convinced that this pudding is not as pudding-y as it should be, it was still a little runny but it’s chocolate! Consistency does not matter. The flaw in this plan was when it came time to do the whipped cream topping. Again, whipped cream from a can is not what this recipe calls for but whipped cream from whipping cream (from the Latin root ‘whip’ or to move quickly into delicious froth). Let’s review my kitchen gadgets: no mixer.

For the record, I have whipped whipping cream into submission before using only a whisk (say “whipped whipping cream with a whisk” three times fast, I dare ya—I triple dog dare ya! Bonus points if you get that movie reference). Knowing this takes a long time, and knowing that you have to add it shortly before serving, I allotted a full 30 minutes of whisking time. I overestimated my arms’ ability to whisk for that long and my left arm’s coordination skills. Poor right arm, so much work. It was getting down to the wire and it was starting to get some sort of thickness but only on the top portion of the cream. Alas, I had to abandon the whipped cream, realizing I would be late if I continued and also that no one would know…

Om nom pudding pie. It looks nothing like the Smitten Kitchen pictures but it was still yummy.

See, that’s the key. Realize that as much as an amateur you might be, the people NOT making things are probably more amateur and therefore will be a) in too much awe to question and b) not know that you’re missing a garnish or fancy piece. So the pie was in fact well received and as I mentioned before, converted the non-believers (I wish I could make some sort of Justin Bieber pun here about believers and Biebers but I got nothin’).

This of course also left me with a cup of sweetened and half-whipped whipping cream which I spent the next week dipping strawberries into and pouring over the remaining pie (good news, not much was left after my friends got hold of it, woohoo waistline!). Because realistically, the whipping cream still tasted like whipped cream just not the right consistency. That which we call whipped cream by any other consistency would taste so sweet? Yes, yes it does.