Georgia Peanut Pie: Peanut Brittle's Older, More Mature Sister

When I first heard about Peanut Pie from Virginia Diner, I was skeptical. It's not peanut butter pie. It's kind of got a pecan pie base. I mean, it sounds like knock-off pecan pie, does it not? But, as per usual, I was terribly wrong. Peanut pie is its own, independent entity, belonging in a peanut-y, sweet-salty category of its own. Unlike super sweet pies like chess pie or some unmentionable cloying apple pies, the roasted and salted peanuts cut through the rich molasses base and balance the whole mix. I've heard many people say it tastes like soft, gooey peanut brittle in a pie crust. So I suppose, as the title suggests, it's kind of like the mature older sister to peanut brittle.

Unfortunately, it's hard to sell people on the concept of a peanut pie in California. I'm not entirely sure why that is, probably having something to do with the fact that peanuts seem less bougie than pecans. But I can't recommend this pie highly enough. Try it out yourself next time you have a bunch of roasted peanuts laying around that you don't know what to do with. You may end up forming a dangerous peanut pie habit.

This is the "Virginia" version. These peanuts came from VA. I like to get mine sourced from Georgia.

Georgia Peanut Pie

Recipe adapted from the Virginia Diner's Peanut Pie

Note: In the picture, I've made a half-pint jar version. This recipe is for a full 9" pie. If you want to make a jar pie, just press the crust lightly into 3-4 buttered jars. The mix should make 3-4 jar pies, depending on the size you use.

Ingredients

1 partially pre-baked pie crust 

3 large eggs

1/2 cup sugar

1/3 cup all-purpose flour

1 cup molasses or sorghum

1.5 cups of roasted, salted peanuts (don't get honey roasted or unsalted or raw or anything funny like that)

1 tbsp unsalted butter, melted

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350F

2. Lightly crush or roughly chop the peanuts, leaving them mostly intact and in a variety of sizes of chunks

3. Beat the eggs and then whisk in the sugar and flour. 

4. Stir in the molasses and butter, then add in the peanuts. 

5. Pour the filling into the crust. Bake 40-45 minutes or until the top puffs just slightly and wiggles just a bit when you move it. The edges should be lightly browned.

6. Cool to room temperature. Serve room temp. or cold with whipped cream.

Happy National Pie Day: I Ate All the Pie!

In commemoration of this monumental national holiday, I baked myself an individual pie in a ramekin and then I ate all of it. Because I can. Hey, the holiday doesn't give me the day off of work, so I earned my own mini-vacation in pie form.

What kind of a pie do I eat if left to my own devices? Chocolate chess pie, of course. It's intoxicating when it's fresh out of the oven. Then I warm up some caramel sauce, drizzle it on top, and sprinkle with flakes of sea salt. My second choice would be banana cream pie, but I prefer to leave my banana cream pies overnight in the fridge before I eat them. And we all know I wasn't going to let this pie sit overnight. It had to be consumed immediately. See the evidence below.

Before stuffing it in my face.

Middle of stuffing it in my face.

The last bite. I eated all of it. And I regret none of it.

National Pie Day has me thinking about some new goals for my pie project in the coming months:

• Get my online store up and running. I've run into some obstacles with this, but I just need to bite the bullet and go one way or the other. I've started with Payvment, but it's pretty limited in terms of turning on and off shipping for individual items, so if anyone has suggestions of better online Facebook shop platforms, I'm all ears. 
• Dream up my spring menu. I can't wait for all the wonderful fruit that spring brings with it: 
• Apricots (only perfect honey-sweet ones though, like the ones I read about in Lucky Peach Vol. 2. That article killed me. David Chang and the whole gang continually prove themselves geniuses.)
• Kiwis
• Early cherries
• The best of Meyer lemons, limes
• Juice-filled, blood red, homegrown strawberries
• Start taking more seasonal subscribers. I'm planning to open up orders for cookie boxes, pie boxes, candy and southern treat boxes (for local customers) and any combination thereof.
• Take more photos and share more recipes!
• Go to more events at 18 Reasons. And by more events, I mean start going to events because I've never been, and that is a damn shame. Like these DIY Dessert events that happen every so often. Caaaake.

So that is what has been on my mind in this long break from substantial blogging. I love the blog, but I want to grow myself and this little project of mine in a lot of different directions, so it's been secondary to other things for a bit. But I promise to check in often. As always, keep in touch! E-mail me, Tweet me, Facebook me for anything your heart desires!

All in a Day's Work

Another day of baking complete! Today's treats were:

1. Chocolate-peanut butter fudge. This took me two tries as a) my candy thermometer is broken and registered the wrong temperature during trial 1, and b) I kinda just wanted to make two batches of fudge.
2. Three 4 oz. pies in jars. I got new tiny jars just for this purpose. 
3. Peanut butter cookies. I feel like I'm cranking these out on a weekly basis now. 
4. Peanut butter and jelly cookies (pictured). These make life worth living. This is another top-secret recipe that I will be keeping to myself, since I get constant requests for these. You'll just have to try them to taste them! My motto is that for something as simple as peanut butter and jelly cookies, it is all in the ingredients. I only use the best butter, sugar, flour, peanut butter, and preserves.

Droolsies

Now it's time to get some sleep before another big week. Amber is coming to visit and I'll be making my first three-tier cake!

January Inspiration: Momofuku Banana Cake

Photo from yummyinthetummy

Having recently purchased the Momofuku Milk Bar cookbook, a 6" cake ring, a Silpat mat, and a quarter sheet pan, I will be rolling out my very own Momofuku Milk Bar-inspired banana cream cakes. This may even be something I continue to do on a regular basis by special request.

What will distinguish mine from the traditional Momofuku genius-beyond-my-wildest-imagination recipe? I plan to convert my banana cream pie into cake form for this. Momofuku uses a hazelnut crunch and cream filling that admittedly sounds delicious. But I want real down-home flavor in this one. I want it to taste like my mom's banana pudding that she used to make for special occassions. So I plan to make a nilla wafer crunch layer in between whipped cream and homemade custard. Nom Noms. Photos to come soon.

Reflections on a (Baking) Season

Winter Cardinal  via strawberryluna

The children were nustled all snug in their beds/

While visions of sugarplums danced in their heads

To this day, I do not know what the hell sugarplums are. (Oh wait, I just googled them; those look delicious.) Nonetheless, that line in "The Night Before Christmas" has always brought warmth to me. I can't tell you how many nights I fall into an exhausted sleep while images of lattice pie crust and biscuits and crumble topping and cinnamon-sugar sprinkles float in and out of my mind. Last night's reflections got me thinking that this season is unique in that way. 

Never before have I been able to so freely express myself with food. I feel like I'm now able to translate my passion into something concrete - more concrete than poetry or music or feelings shared after a few cocktails - and it feels so liberating. I feel like I have something that is all my own. When I want to promote it, I promote it. When I feel burned out, I let myself reflect and create without judgment. Then I just come back with better stuff.

But, this year, the holiday season has just about chased me down. It feels like I've been stuck in a race with someone just a step faster than me, running on sand to try to keep up. Then I fall asleep and recharge, wake up, do yoga for 90 minutes, drink lots of coffee, work non-stop all day at the publishing company, drive home, and bake until I can't bake anymore. And I kind of love it. 

I enjoy sharing what the holidays have always meant to me: my mother's cooking, long stories shared over long meals, and spending time with my family, who I simultaneously see too often and not enough (what a contradiction). This year, the holidays also mean variations on the traditional baking my mother has always executed so well. Instead, I'm making  the southern food that comes from my family's heart and transforming it into something oh so San Francisco. Some examples: salt-honey pecan pie, persimmon custard tarts, salted dark chocolate almond toffee, ginger-nutmeg southern tea cakes, sweet potato cupcakes, and heavy cream on top of all of the above. 

I may not have the time to relish every second of this season, but I'm basking in the warmth through the food I'm making for others, through the samples I save for myself, and through the endless flow of new ideas that dance through my head as I fall asleep at night, exhausted, ready to start all over again in the morning.

Peanut Butter Cookies: The Cookie of My Heart

I've been spending a lot of time lately thinking about peanut butter cookies. I recently made an order for a friend, and it sent me on a mission through my mom's old recipe box for the perfect combination of ingredients. I made my first test batch a few months ago, and they've only gotten better since then. Now, I use all-natural peanut butter (I literally go to the store where I can press my own peanuts into peanut butter... it's kind of badass), all-butter, White Lily flour, and roll each cookie individually in coarse sugar. It's a bit of a step above what my mom had in mind when she wrote the recipe in her recipe box, but it still has the heart and soul of the cookie of my heart: the classic peanut butter cookie. 

I'm not sure why, but every time I bite into a peanut butter cookie, I think of Atlanta and my childhood. I'm not even sure if my mom made these cookies much when I was little. All I know is that when she did make these cookies, I went crazy. I felt like I was being rewarded for existing. That's what peanut butter cookies are to me: a reward for living on this planet, where peanut butter exists. Because peanut butter is one of the best things on this earth. Really.

Next up is perfecting my peanut butter and jelly cookie recipe. It's a peanut butter and jelly sandwich but one hundred times more decadent, only it's about 1/8 of the size, so it's not so bad for you.

The holidays have been so good to me so far. Even though a certain someone *coughcough* left for Los Angeles right as all the stress hit, I've still been taking lots of time to myself. My recipe for success as I'm going through all my recipes for other people: yoga at 5 in the morning, meditation, shopping only during lunch hours at work and avoiding the shopping mall, handmade gift certificates, eating lots of avocados and vegetables, and spending time with friends whenever possible. 

This year has been so much different than any year before it. I've found it hard to believe that it's Christmas already, but it's here whether I'm ready for it or not. I feel so much more whole, so much more determined, so much more accomplished, and like I have so much farther to go. I'm looking forward to Thailand and Paris and weekends with Rob and yoga each morning and baking new things every week and making people smile with butter, sugar, flour, and bacon. Lots and lots of bacon.

My Very Own Virtual Home

After weeks - no, let's be real, months - of procastination and worrying, I have finally gotten my South by San Francisco Facebook page up and running. It is modest yet. But I have big plans: deals, videos, better photos, polls, all that good stuff.

If you haven't, please "like" the page. There is much more to come, as small as it may seem right now.

Go to the page at: Facebook.com/southbysanfrancisco

And that's because, if this holiday season has taught me anything, it is that I am ready for the next step. I thrive on the energy and planning and the love and care that go into each of my orders, especially when things get hectic. So I am taking several large gulps of air, sighing, and closing my eyes as I jump off the deep end. No, no, I'm more like wading into the mid-deep end, feeling my way around there, and then possibly doggie paddling towards the deep end. I'm taking calculated risks here, people. And I am calculating the exponential deliciousness of pie as we hit the bottom of winter and make our way back towards spring sometime soon. Just like the Greeks did at some point. Or something.

Sorry for the dumb joke. Like the page!