American Pecan Pie

You wouldn’t think that vampire series ‘True Blood’ would provide baking inspiration, but that is exactly what happened when I watched series one. The series is set in Louisiana, and is full of good old fashioned southern manners, traditional home cooking, sex, and vampires.

For those of you who haven’t seen the show, there is a sad scene where Sookie (one of the main characters) is eating her late Gran’s Pecan Pie. It may be an emotional scene, but all I could think of was the pie. Ever since I saw it I have been dying to bake one, but have been waiting for just the right moment.

So when my friend Bob, who happens to be a great photographer, offered to take some professional photos of my next baking creation - I knew that it had to be Pecan Pie.

This week I feel compelled to do a little history lesson, and tell you about the past of the Pecan Pie. Although the exact origins are unclear, it is said that this pie hails from the French settlement in Louisiana around the 18th century. Pecan trees grow in this area, and can produce edible nuts for more than three hundred years. It’s amazing to think that the Pecan trees that were first used to make Pecan Pie for those early settlers, could still be producing Pecans for pies now!

First I made the pastry for the crust, which was unusual in that it contained a good dose of sugar and four egg yolks. Then I melted the butter, sugar, and syrup, and added three whisked eggs before pouring into the pastry case. I know what you’re thinking, ‘heart attack food’, but my Grandma always told me that a little bit of what you fancy does you good, and my Grandma is right about everything.

The recipe didn’t tell me to blind bake the pastry case before putting in the filling, which made me as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room of rocking chairs (southern saying). I had visions of soggy pastry, but decided that if the recipe had been around for three hundred years I should trust it.

Once the filling was in the pastry case, I placed Pecan nut halves on top, in a neat circular pattern. The recipe suggested putting them in any old way, but there is no way I could have ruined the symmetrical look of the dish. OCD? Definitely.

After about forty minutes in the oven the pie had turned golden brown, and the filling had set completely. It looked fantastic, and I was especially pleased, seeing as it was going to be subjected to a professional photo shoot.

The next day my kitchen became a photographic studio complete with lights, and other paraphernalia that I can’t remember the exact name of. Bob, you are not included under the term ‘paraphernalia’ - I do remember your name!

I am sure you will agree that the photo looks fantastic. If Playboy did a pie centre fold - this would be it.

I was relieved that the pastry was not soggy as I had feared, but just right. The Pecan Pie had a surprising texture too, not at all what I had imagined. The texture of the filling was almost like custard, but the taste was of buttery sweetness. Of course the Pecan crunch topped things off nicely, and I have to say I think they are a real ‘nut’s nut.’

After the success of the Pecan Pie, I now have a bit of a fascination with American desserts. America offers a whole continent of cakes and pies to be discovered, and I’m sure it won’t be long before Mississippi Mud Pie and Pumpkin Pie make it on to here.

Thanks y’all for stopping by! You’ve made me as happy as a clam!

Cake 21 - Physics Themed Cakes

This week's special edition of 'What Bridie Baked' comprises of a joint effort between myself and my cousin Rosie, and involves the combining of our individual talents for a shared vision. Our mission was to bake physics themed cakes for Rosie's last day as a publishing editor at IOP Publishing; the creators of respected physics journals.

We set out to push the boundaries of cookery and science, and prove that the combination of physics and cake is less like chalk and cheese, and more of a marriage made in heaven. With my baking prowess and Rosie's physics expertise, surely this was a pairing that could take us all the way to the Nobel Prize, Masterchef, and beyond?

Before our cake partnership could begin, I first had to endure the 4 hour train journey from Chester to Bristol Temple Meads. Meanwhile back at the ranch, Rosie had bought ingredients, and selected an array of physics inspired decorations to knock the socks off even the most apathetic physicist. Unless they're Einstein - he didn't wear any socks.

After arriving in Bristol and having a catch up over a Chinese take-away, we got started with the cake baking. It's always difficult cooking away from home, as you never know where the utensils are or how to work the oven. Fortunately, I had Rosie on hand as my glamorous assistant.

In the absence of a food mixer, we took it in turns to mix all the ingredients together with a fork until we had something that resembled cake mixture. It looked and tasted very good, proving that if you've got a strong arm and a good whisk action, you don't need fancy utensils to bake a cake. We spooned the mixture into muffin cases and miniature cake cases, and put on a baking tray in a hot oven.

The next and most crucial stage was the decoration. This was the stage that was to turn our plain cupcakes into works of scientific art. At our disposal we had pink and blue butter cream, white chocolate stars, multi-coloured sugar stars, sparkle dust, and some strange spiky sugar balls that Rosie thought looked like exploding nuclei. While mixing together the butter and icing sugar, I also did a quick demonstration of Newton's Law of Gravity by knocking the blue food colouring all over the work surface.

Rosie had also bought some rum flavouring, which we added to the butter cream. We wondered what the secret ingredient must be in this flavouring to make it taste of rum, and upon reading the label discovered it was, in fact, rum. I was a bit concerned about the cakes stinking out her offices with their potent alcoholic scent, but we decided to throw caution to the wind and use it anyway. After all, it was Rosie's last day and the probability of her being sacked was low.

So, how does one represent the Universe in a Cake Case? Well, we have formulated some theories on that issue. Collectively, they represent chaos theory, especially when you take into consideration the tip we made in the kitchen. Rosie thinks that they evoke the notion of subatomic particles or atomic nuclei, and perhaps the most striking image is the one of a cake about to be swallowed up by my ‘black cake-hole.’

The cakes tasted out of this world, and the heavily decorated topping created a taste explosion. Kind of like the Big Bang, in a good way. Maybe it was the rum flavouring talking, but we also received a lot of compliments from Rosie’s colleagues.

So, did we succeed in our mission? Share your view and leave us a comment.