“And if I want to celebrate my birthday and celebrate your incredible talent by staying in with you, that would be good, wouldn’t it?” A little line of skin along Alex’s ribs, when stroked with a feather-light touch, reduces him to jelly. Craig, of course, knows exactly where it is. “That would be a nice sort of celebration, don’t you think?”
Alex groans and capitulates. “What kind of dessert?”
“S’mores brownie pie. You liked it last time I made it.”
Another groan, this time ending in the tiniest of whimpers. “With the little marshmallows?”
Well, of course with the little marshmallows, Alex, how could Craig call it s’mores brownie pie otherwise? Not that I think you’d notice if he’d left them off, not in this moment anyway…
So! One of my top five all-time favorite movies is Waitress, and I count it among the several sparks of inspiration that drove me to write Definitely, Maybe, Yours. As such, I knew I wanted to include a really scrumptious pie somewhere in the book, as a tiny, quiet homage to Adrienne Shelly, who wrote and directed Waitress, but died before the movie was released. And boy, is this pie scrumptious, and I think it would be right at home in Joe’s Pie Diner, the fictional restaurant in which Keri Russell’s character Jenna works and creates magical, delicious pies.
Lord, would you just look at that gooey toasted goodness.
S’Mores Brownie Pie
10 graham crackers – the full sheet, not half
6 tbsp butter, melted
1/4 cup sugar
Brownie Filling (We used this Neighborfoodblog recipe with a couple tweaks):
1 and 1/2 sticks unsalted butter
1 cup packed light brown sugar
3/4 cup white sugar
1 egg yolk
1 tbsp vanilla
1 cup cocoa powder
1/3 cup all purpose flour
Handful Ghirardelli Dark Chocolate Melting Wafers
1/2 bag semi-sweet chocolate chips
Bag of Jet Puffed Marshmallows, the small ones
Preheat your oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.
Using your preferred method, crush your graham crackers, grousing the entire time about how this recipe calls for 10 crackers and Honey Maid packages them 9 to a sleeve, relegating you to a week of eating graham crackers with peanut butter. I like to put my crackers in a Ziploc and crush them with a rolling pin. My best friend Angela, who was my co-pilot on this project, prefers to break the crackers up by hand in a bowl, following that up with a merry smashing session. Whatever works.
Mix your crackers, butter, and sugar well, and when they are all nice and combined, press the mixture into a pie dish to form the crust. This particular dish I used is a little deeper than my other pie dishes, and I would recommend that for reasons which will become clear in a bit.
Set the pie crust aside and move to the stove. For this part, you’ll need a medium-sized pot over medium heat. Toss your butter into the pot and melt it all down.
Once it’s melted, take the pot off the heat and mix in your sugars until the mixture is a lovely creamy consistency. At this point, add your eggs and yolk one at a time, stirring well, and when that’s all combined, stir in the vanilla.
Add the cocoa powder and flour, stirring to combine, then toss in the dark chocolate melting wafers, which were Angela’s excellent idea and bring the pie filling from splendid to dirty, bad and wrong. If you want, you can return the pot to the heat for a minute to get those to start melting a little. Follow up with the regular chocolate chips and stir them in.
At this point you will actually have too much filling for the pie, so shunt some of it off into a mini-muffin pan. Bake your mini-muffins for twenty minutes or so, until a toothpick poked into the center comes out with a moist crumb. Take the opportunity then to shove two marshmallows into the center of each muffin and return them to the oven for two minutes. Result:
Marshmallow-stuffed two bite brownies, god help us all.
Okay, now take the rest of the batter and pour it into the prepared pie crust. Oh, just look at this gorgeous glossy deliciousness.
Here is your pie. Throw this into your preheated oven for 40-50 minutes; we had to do 50, because we unwisely baked the brownie bites at the same time. Keep checking your pie until, like the brownies, a poked-in toothpick comes back with a bit of moist crumb. At that point, you pull it out and start sprinkling your marshmallows on top. This is why you want a fairly deep pie dish, you have to corral those puffy little stinkers.
When your pie is covered, put it back in the oven and let the marshmallows puff up, usually about a minute or two. Then put on the broiler for a minute to let the marshmallows brown. Keep an eye on the pie under the broiler. You want the marshmallows nicely browned, not scorched. Or hey, maybe you’re into scorched. I don’t judge. I know my campfire habits.
Here’s how we ended up:
Oh, yes. Oh, mercy, yes.
As you can imagine, pie slices do not photograph well because I am no professional food blogger and also that pie topping is ornery as heck and does not care to be styled. It is, however, delicious in the extreme with a cold glass of milk.
Angela and I each had a slice and then agreed that this scrumptious marvel had to be gotten out of our sight immediately or we would eat the entire thing, and frankly I have been doing really well with yoga and vegetables lately, so I gave the rest of the pie to my friend Becca. It’s deeply intense, fudgy and rich and exactly the sort of pie I imagined when I wrote that chapter of my book. This is definitely a pie a body might do naughty, naughty things to get, in my opinion. I hope you like it as much as we did.
Definitely, Maybe, Yours by Lissa Reed debuts on August 11th, 2015, and is available for pre-order from Interlude Press.