Issue 67: From Sara Kate
Greetings from Brooklyn, New York, which is part of the unceded land of the Lenape peoples.
Thanksgiving is complicated. I grew up making handprint turkeys and craft-store feather-encrusted headbands to “celebrate” this time of year and then, like many of us, woke up to the realities of this annual feast. I was led to believe it was something I can really resonate with--a loving and peaceful dinner party between the Pilgrims and “the Indians” (actually, the Wampanoag) showing gratitude for the harvest and good neighbors--when actually it was much more sinister than that.
And yet we still have the day (or in the case of my daughter, the whole week) off from work and school. Family descends. Recipes are pushed on us from every direction from magazines to TikTok. Despite my political and spiritual discomfort with the holiday, I still love a good dinner party, and I love re-examining and ultimately transforming traditions, so I haven’t quite tossed the whole thing out the window.
Listen, I’m not here to tell you how to live your life, or even what you should cook for Thanksgiving, but I know you’re here because you have some level of trust in my opinion about food so I’d like to just put it out there that despite the darkness of Thanksgiving, I feel very strongly about pie.
I’m drawn to the pageantry of its presentation, its geometry, the sound a dessert fork makes as it cuts across the soft but dense filling and then slows as it pierces the crust and then gently clanks on the plate. My grandmother’s porcelain had its own ring, more delicate than the sound my hand-made ceramics make, but both melodic.
While my understanding of history has clarified and my family has changed throughout the years--divorce, cross-country moves, births and deaths--the one thing that remains constant is this particular pumpkin pie recipe.
My mom made this pie when I was little. I made it one year in college for a few other orphans left on campus who didn’t go home that year, wherever home was. When I was married and we used to go to Costa Rica for Thanksgiving each year, I would make many versions of the pie–some tiled with pie crust cut-outs, some carpeted with its candy-like praline topping. When I got divorced I made it for myself one year when I was alone. We have taught it to hundreds of kids at The Dynamite Shop, and it’s in our new cookbook, too. (The version below has a simplified graham cracker crumb crust but you can easily swap it out for pie crust, which is what I’ll be doing.)
This year my dad is visiting from California and we’re having a small gathering with another family nearby. I’ll be bringing the pie. I think I’ll do both the praline topping, and finish the top with a layer of pastry. Oh, we’ll talk about the idea of a National Day of Mourning and why a land acknowledgement is the bare minimum in understanding our relationship as Americans to the land we occupy. We’ll keep the idea of gratitude, a practice that infuses our home every day of the year. We can still celebrate the harvest and the ridiculous bounty we have access to. And we can gather as friends, neighbors and families to take a pause from work and school and share the preparation and consumption (both parts are fun) of a long lazy meal.
By the time those dessert forks start piercing the pie, I always hope that we share our darker thoughts and regrets, too, our efforts at peace-making and reconciliation, and infuse our children with values centered not around mimicking another culture’s clothing or dance, but rather understanding and connecting deeply with history as a way of understanding and connecting deeply with those around us in this very moment, every day..
Graham Cracker Pumpkin Praline Pie
Makes one 9-inch pie
FOR THE CRUST
1 1/4 cups finely ground graham cracker crumbs (about 5 ounces, from about 10 whole graham crackers)
6 tablespoons (3/4 stick) butter, melted
3 tablespoons granulated sugar
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
Pinch of kosher salt
FOR THE FILLING
1 package (8-ounces) cream cheese, at room temperature
1/3 cup granulated sugar
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
1 cup canned pure pumpkin puree
1/2 cup heavy cream
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
FOR THE PRALINE TOPPING
1 cup chopped pecans or walnuts (or pepitas for a nut-free pie: pumpkin seeds for pumpkin pie!)
2/3 cup lightly packed light brown sugar
4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) butter, melted
Pinch of kosher salt
1. Preheat the oven to 350°F.
2. Make the crust: In a large bowl, combine the cracker crumbs, butter, sugar, cinnamon, and salt and stir until all the ingredients are evenly distributed. The mixture should look like wet sand.
3. Sprinkle the mixture evenly across the bottom of a 9-inch deep-dish pie plate. Using the bottom of a measuring cup or other flat-bottomed cup, press the mixture evenly over the bottom and up the sides of the pie plate.
4. Bake in the oven for about 8 minutes, until fragrant and beginning to brown. Remove from the oven and set aside to cool.
5. Meanwhile, make the filling: Either by hand with a wooden spoon or using a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat the cream cheese and the sugar vigorously until well combined. Beat in the eggs until the mixture is uniform in texture. Add the pumpkin, cream, cinnamon, salt, ginger, and cloves. Mix until no white cream cheese flecks remain; this may take up to 3 minutes.
6. Pour the mixture into the cooled crust to about ¼ inch from the top, which allows for expansion as the pie bakes. (If you have leftover filling, you can bake it in ramekins until it’s no longer jiggly; cook time depends on amount, but for a standard 6-ounce ramekin, start checking around 10 minutes.) Bake the pie for about an hour, or until the tip of a paring knife inserted into the center comes out clean. The center should jiggle slightly when moved, but it should not be wet. Let the pie cool for at least 1 hour.
7. When you’re ready to finish the pie, preheat the broiler.
8. Make the topping: In a small bowl, combine the nuts, brown sugar, melted butter, and salt. Sprinkle the mixture evenly over the top of the pie, then place the pie under the broiler for 2 to 3 minutes, until browned and crisp, keeping a very close watch to ensure that it does not burn. Allow the pie to cool for a few minutes before serving.