Deprecated: mb_convert_encoding(): Handling HTML entities via mbstring is deprecated; use htmlspecialchars, htmlentities, or mb_encode_numericentity/mb_decode_numericentity instead in /var/www/html/wp-content/plugins/super-cool-ad-inserter/inc/scaip-shortcode-inserter.php on line 37
Did people always eat pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving? Yes, but not the strained, blended, sugared version we eat today. The first Thanksgiving pumpkin pie was allegedly just an English-style custard served in a pumpkin rind since butter and flour weren’t readily available. In the 1600s, this version of “Pumpion Pie” contained raisins, currants, apples, and herbs as well as seared pumpkin slices.
Whether it’s made with Libby’s pumpkin label recipe or in the 17th-century style, some people just don’t like pumpkin pie. I’m not one of them, but I admit that traditional pumpkin pie can get a little tired. That’s why I made pumpkin cheesecake pie last year and a pumpkin chiffon pie for this year’s feast.
If you’re looking to steer away from pumpkin pie altogether, a classic apple pie is always a good choice. But if your tastebuds are craving something completely different, I’d love to suggest one of these two pies instead.
Raisin “Funeral” Pie
This raisin pie I found in the Nov. 21 1963 issue of the Pittsburgh Post Gazette is tied in with the Thanksgiving courses, including sweet potatoes (Hawaiian style), cranberry mold, brussels sprouts with chestnuts, and an apple almond stuffing recipe. Although I couldn’t find anything other than anecdotal evidence of raisin pie being a traditional Thanksgiving dish, it is a staple dessert made for funerals in the Amish and Mennonite communities.
Were our grandparents having a funeral for the turkey? Perhaps.
Here is the original recipe for Raisin Pie by Chef William Faust:
- • 2 cups raisins
• 1 cup sugar
• 2 cups water
• ½ tsp. salt
• 2 Tbsp. butter
• 3 Tbsp. lemon juice
• 1 tsp. lemon extract
• 2 Tbsp. cornstarch
• Pastry dough for shell and for lattice strips on top
Cook raisins, sugar, water, salt, butter, and lemon juice for 5 minutes. Dissolve cornstarch in 3 Tbsp. cold water and add to mixture. Cook for another 5 minutes. Remove from heat and add lemon extract. Pour into pastry-lined pie pan. Make a lattice-fashioned pie top. Bake at 425 for 25 minutes.
My first thought when looking at this recipe was, “A whole cup of sugar?!!” I made the original recipe and this was one of the biggest issues. It’s way too sweet — like furry teeth sweet. I remade the recipe with a half cup of sugar and the flavor was much more balanced.
Second, the lattice topping was not easy to build over scalding hot raisins and sugar. So I improvised with a random crisscross of strips. Next time, I’ll either make a lattice ahead on top of parchment or simply cap the pie with a full top crust (vented, of course). However, I liked the way my random crisscross crust turned out.
Baking this pie in my oven for 25 minutes at 425°F burnt the outer crust just a bit. The second time around, I baked it for 18 minutes, and it turned out crispy and perfect.
If you love raisins, this pie is pretty bomb. If you don’t, this obviously won’t be for you. I found it a bit sweet even with only half the original sugar, so I cut the sweetness with some homemade whipped cream. Other iterations of raisin pie, like this award-winning sour cream and raisin pie might be less sweet while still delivering traditional funeral goodness to your holiday table.
I’m also going to try this with dried cranberries because why not? Cranberries scream traditional Thanksgiving. To cut the bittersweet, I’ll balance them with orange juice in place of half the water. Definitely worth a shot!
Moving onto pie number two…
Chocolate Mousse Pie
This dreamy concoction might silence your Aunt Brenda’s objections when she hears there’s no pumpkin pie this year.
I found this chocolate mousse recipe in the Nov. 20, 1977 issue of the Pittsburgh Press. Underneath the Thanksgiving menu segment is a sweet little interview with British actress Glenda Jackson, where she shares her love for cooking and some of her favorite desserts. This chocolate mousse recipe is in there, and unlike the over-sugared American treats of the 1970s, this chocolate mousse is mildly bittersweet and oh-so-good.
Though the original recipe is a standalone mousse, I decided to toss it in a pre-made pie crust because I absolutely love chocolate mousse pie.
Here is Academy Award winner Glenda Jackson’s homemade chocolate mousse recipe:
- • 4 oz. semisweet chocolate bits
• 2 Tbsp. butter
• 2 Tbsp. Cointreau, orange brandy, or orange juice
• 4 eggs, separated
• Sweetened whipped cream
Melt chocolate and butter in a double boiler. Add orange juice or orange liquor and mix well. Beat egg yolks until thick and lemon-colored, then slowly blend them into the chocolate mixture. Remove from heat. Then, beat your egg whites until stiff but not dry. Gently fold into chocolate mixture.
Pour into individual molds or a glass bowl. (No thank you, Glenda. I’m pouring this ish into a pie shell like a rebel.)
The first time I tried making this, I burned the chocolate. How? My kid got his favorite Sonic the Hedgehog toy wedged between the hinges of his toybox, and I forgot it was on the stove for the duration of Operation Save Sonic.
Hot tip: don’t neglect your double boiler. I had to toss away my Pyrex bowl and one of my pots because they were an unholy mess of scalded chocolate lava that somehow cracked and seeped through heat-proof glass. The smell is still in my house, even after a full exorcism.
So the next time I attempted this dessert, I paid full attention to what I was doing and didn’t have to sacrifice any of my equipment. Also, it turned out so delicious, creamy, and wonderful that I will be making this again and again.
There are “afterthoughts” connected to this recipe — written by Johna Blinn, American food columnist and author of over fifty cookbooks — including a note that this mousse is not sweet enough for the American palate. Hard disagree, Johna. This mousse is perfect.
The standalone mousse is incredible — the overflow that wouldn’t fit in my pie crust wound up in a custard cup in my fridge. 10/10 for a gluten-free dessert option. The only change I made to the original recipe was adding a pie shell, and aside from the pie shell itself, this is a no-bake pie recipe. Also, whipped cream is optional. This pie is fabulous with or without it.
Printable PDFs can be downloaded here:
This article appears in Nov 13-19, 2024.
