I appreciate you guys, really I do. And that's why I've baked you a present. And taken a picture of it, because there just wasn't quite enough to share, as it turned out. But I will let you have the recipe. And then I promise to stop beginning all my sentences with contractions.
I failed to go to the farmer's market this past Saturday, and sometime early this week, I realized we had cooked our way through every single one of the vegetables that had been rolling around in the crisper drawer and lolling about on my countertops. It was a lonely feeling actually, but since I didn't particularly feel like going to the supermarket and loading up on foods from far-flung places, I poked around in my freezer and pulled out some of the sauces I had frozen from our CSA produce earlier this summer, and went about my business making some easy pasta dishes for us to subsist on. After all, it would only be a few days until Thursday, today, when I would be able to go to Locally Grown and re-load on some more fresh veggies.
The thing is though, I get bored in a hurry. So since I wasn't having any fun planning dinners and coming up with new ways to cook squash, I poked around looking for a new dessert recipe to satisfy my urge to tinker in the kitchen. Ack, but everything I ran across just seemed so, well, wrong, I guess. It's not as if I have anything against sugar (far be it from ME) or serious dessert binges (you guys haven't forgotten last winter's calorie meltdown, have you?), but this time of year, I just don't feel like going all out with candy-making or triple-layered-brownie-baking or any of that sort of thing.
Before anyone thinks I've lost my rocker, you DID see that picture of pie a few inches north of this paragraph, right? Oh yeah, I made a pie. And it was chocolate.
See, a while back on 101 Cookbooks, Heidi posted a recipe for a chocolate pie that used tofu (!) and chocolate, one lonely egg, a hunk of cream cheese, a graham cracker crust using honey instead of sugar, and very little else. I was intrigued. With a capital 'I,' no less. And this seemed like the perfect time to pull that recipe out and give it a little whirl.
I mean honestly, if it weren't for the graham crackers, this would be health food. Which is why I was a wee bit nervous about the whole thing, if I'm completely honest. Tofu? In a pie? Under normal circumstances, I might have considered that a deal-breaker, but I was feeling adventurous. And I really wanted some chocolate pie.
Oh, my. Now you KNOW I wouldn't have posted a picture of this thing if it hadn't blown me away. Imagine the consummate chocolate cheesecake, with the perfect firm, thick texture and rich, luxurious mouthfeel. Then subtract the cloying aftertaste, the overly-sweet flavor, and most of the calories and the fat.
Can I get an Amen?
Using honey instead of sugar gives the crust more of a light, floral flavor, and lends a cohesiveness that is often lacking in graham cracker crusts. And I went for dark chocolate chips in the filling, which makes for a rather elegant, grown-up dessert when it's all said and done (although neither of my children got that memo and it turns out, they love it equally). We ALL enjoyed it quite well actually, even The Conservative Carnivore who, you would think, might be the first to take umbrage with having tofu in his pie.
HEAVENLY PIE (adapted from Country Wisdom and Know-How and 101 Cookbooks, yields 8-12 servings, depending on how self-controlled you claim to be)
- 2 cups well-crushed graham crackers
- 1/3 cup (about 7 Tbs) melted butter
- 2 Tbs honey
- 8 oz cream cheese, softened
- 8 oz silken tofu
- 1 egg
- 6 oz dark chocolate chips (I like Ghirardelli 60%), melted
- 1 tsp vanilla
- Combine the cracker crumbs, butter and honey. Press mixture into a 9-inch pie pan.
- In an electric mixer at medium speed, blend together the remaining ingredients until lumps are gone and mixture is very well-combined.
- Pour the filling into into the pie pan and bake at 350 degrees for 30 to 35 minutes. Pie will be fully set, but will not have cracks in the filling.
- Chill completely, for at least a few hours, before serving.