Friends Eat Pie

My kids were away for the whole holiday week so I had my first adult Friendsgiving without family. Each year I roast two turkeys – the “stunt turkey” a couple weeks ahead that provides the turkey stock and gravy base, followed by the main bird for Thanksgiving day. This year, my friends told me they didn’t like turkey. At first it felt wrong to skip the traditional dishes for the the Home Cook’s Superbowl, but when I mentally subtracted the turkey-related time and effort involved in dinner, I decided a turkeyless Thanksgiving was fabulous. No defrosting, skin drying, dry brining, compound butter under the skin, russing, coming to room temp, roasting, tenting, resting, carving, and serving? Give thanks, one and all.

Unfortunately, I don’t have multiple levels of production when it comes to providing meals to friends and family. It’s extra or delivery. While I did accept help this year, I also over-produced to compensate. I had friends select desserts they wanted and I made those, plus a tart for myself, and then a friend made me a tart, and we had four desserts, plus some banana bread to take home for my one annoying friend who claims he needs to put on some weight. As obnoxious as that is to hear, I am obviously the correct friend to consult on this matter.

I have made coconut cream pie three times in my life, and two of those times were in the last two weeks. I am awful at making pie crust, so if someone’s southern grandmother has tips I am all ears, but it’s not a terribly complicated dessert to make once I get past my fear of crusts. I made a cranberry curd tart with a hazelnut cookie crust that was divine, and I think I’ll make just the curd to use with scones for Christmas, because cranberries are tiny tart miracles and only good this time of year. A friend and I made an rose apple tart which was a looker for sure, but even though the rose design took some patience, the chocolate mousse pie takes the cake, so to speak.

I’ve made mousse once, but it didn’t include a meringue. The recipe I chose was basically homemade marshmallow, melted chocolate, and whipped cream, somehow folded together without deflating, and then topped with more whipped cream, because YOLO. Alas, YOL a short time if you eat a gallon of cream for dessert. I was not expecting to need a candy thermometer to make what seemed like a simple pie, and I was incredibly stressed. My friend said he’d try the oreo crust version which helped my anxiety immensely, but the chocolate curl topping took two attempts. What a primadonna.

I highly recommend inviting men who can cook to Friendsgiving, because the steaks were cooked to perfection and the Robuchon potatoes whipped into submission without any supervision from me. If possible, invite a man whose date makes killer deviled eggs, too. There were brussels sprouts with bacon, pomegranate arils, and crispy shallots, roasted honeynut squash with maple syrup and rosemary, sauteed garlic green beans (also made by the steak griller and very delicious), and macaroni and cheese. There was also charcuterie which I split with my one canine guest who has a fondness for cured meats but passed on the aged Gouda.

We ate and ate until we could eat no more, and then everyone did dishes but me, which is the only way I will agree to host from now on. I pressed my guests to make suggestions for side dishes they would miss if they didn’t appear on their Thanksgiving table, and everyone assured me they wouldn’t miss a thing if we skipped sweet potatoes and the like, but the next day one guy said he’d missed not having cornbread dressing, so maybe next time he will learn to make his needs heard so I can accommodate all the nostalgic palates present and not feel guilty for “forgetting” a favorite. In my defense, I double-checked ahead of time. Hopefully the message was driven home by the onslaught of pies – if you ask, I will provide to the best of my ability so don’t be shy.

I am admittedly terrible at giving gifts. Usually I can think of something awesome to get you but it’s ten thousand dollars, and when I realize I don’t have ten thousand dollars, I am plum out of ideas. But if you have a favorite food, or better yet, a dish you’d like to try for which you have no comparison, I can give you that. I like a project when I have the time, and I get a lot of satisfaction from resurrecting “dead dishes,” or foods that were made by relatives who’ve passed away and haven’t been made since. Older recipes are always a challenge because they’re often written in an esoteric way, jotted down for their own use with the confidence that the master has committed certain parts to memory already. Maybe it won’t be exactly the same, since our ingredients aren’t exactly like those used fifty years ago, but it’ll be as close as I can get it.

If you can sense I’m about to give you an awful gift this holiday season, feel free to say, “I saw this recipe on TikTok and wanted to try it…” and I’ll do my best. If you love it, I’ll make it all the time. If you don’t, send me another one. At least you’ll have a full stomach and won’t have to pretend to like the ugly socks I picked out.