Heavenly Chocolate Pie

Thanksgiving week. The week where every cooking instinct I have goes into overdrive and the apartment transforms into a small, slightly chaotic food production facility. I start planning the Thanksgiving menu in September (this year, the planning was interrupted by a positive pregnancy test, but the planning HAPPENED, because some things are bigger than life changes and Thanksgiving is one of them).

The menu: turkey (obviously — I brine it for 24 hours in a salt-sugar-herb solution that takes up the entire bottom shelf of the fridge), Earline's cornbread dressing (not stuffing — DRESSING, because we are Southern and the distinction matters and I will fight about it), mashed potatoes, gravy from the drippings, green bean casserole (yes, the kind with the canned mushroom soup, because tradition beats snobbery every time), candied yams, collard greens, cranberry sauce (the canned kind — I will make everything from scratch EXCEPT the cranberry sauce because that weird, can-shaped cylinder of jellied cranberry is a non-negotiable part of the aesthetic), and three pies: pumpkin, pecan, and sweet potato.

The sweet potato pie. Terrence's recipe. I'm making it for the family. He won't be here — he's spending Thanksgiving with Gloria in Atlanta, which is right, which is where he should be — but his recipe will be on the table. His presence in pie form. The man who left and is still, through butter and sweet potato and nutmeg, at the table. Mama will taste it. Mama will evaluate it. Mama's verdict, delivered to an absent baker, will be the most important food criticism in the Mitchell household this year.

The nausea has improved — not gone, but manageable, like a background noise you learn to tune out. I'm twelve weeks now. The first trimester is ending. The danger zone (they don't call it that officially, but every pregnant woman knows the first twelve weeks are the holding-your-breath weeks) is almost over. I can start breathing. I can start letting myself believe that this baby — this late-June, summer-born, Nashville baby — is really coming.

Amber called. She and Darren are still trying. Nothing yet. She doesn't want to talk about it, which means she really wants to talk about it, so I let her talk for forty-five minutes about ovulation trackers and prenatal vitamins and timing and hope. She said, "I can't believe YOU'RE pregnant before me." I said, "I wasn't trying." She said, "That makes it worse." She laughed. I laughed. Sisters laugh at the cruelest ironies because the alternative is crying and we've done enough crying to fill the Cumberland River.

I spent all day Wednesday cooking. The turkey went into the brine. The cornbread for the dressing got baked and crumbled. The pies got assembled — three of them, lined up on the counter like edible soldiers awaiting deployment. Chloe helped with the pecan pie (she arranged the pecans in concentric circles with the precision of a mathematician). Jayden "helped" with the sweet potato pie by eating raw sweet potato off the counter, which I allowed because raw sweet potato is basically a vegetable and any vegetable consumption from Jayden is a victory.

Three pies lined up on my counter that Wednesday — pecan, sweet potato, and this one, the Heavenly Chocolate Pie I added to the lineup four years ago because Thanksgiving dessert should have a third option for the people who love chocolate the way some people love oxygen. The sweet potato pie carried Terrence. The pecan pie carried Chloe’s careful hands. The chocolate pie carried me: twelve weeks along, nausea fading to background static, finally able to stand at the counter and feel something close to joy instead of just determination. I needed a pie that wouldn’t fight me. Creamy, cold, no-bake once the crust is ready — this one never does. It just shows up, steady and beautiful, exactly the way you need it to.

Prep Time: 20 min | Chill Time: 4 hours | Total Time: 4 hours 20 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 package (8 oz) cream cheese, softened
1/4 cup powdered sugar
2 packages (3.9 oz each) instant chocolate pudding mix
2 cups cold whole milk
1 carton (8 oz) frozen whipped topping, thawed, divided
1 chocolate cookie crumb crust (9 inches)
2 tablespoons chocolate shavings or mini chocolate chips, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

Beat the base. In a large bowl, beat softened cream cheese and powdered sugar together with a hand mixer on medium speed until completely smooth and fluffy, about 2 minutes. Scrape down the sides of the bowl.
Add pudding. Add both packages of instant chocolate pudding mix and the cold milk to the cream cheese mixture. Beat on medium speed for 2—3 minutes, until the mixture is thick, smooth, and well combined. It will be noticeably stiffer than regular pudding.
Fold in whipped topping. Set aside about 1 cup of whipped topping for garnish. Gently fold the remaining whipped topping into the chocolate mixture using a rubber spatula, working in large swooping motions to keep it light and airy. Do not stir vigorously.
Fill the crust. Spoon the filling into the prepared chocolate cookie crumb crust and smooth the top evenly with the spatula.
Top and chill. Spread or dollop the reserved whipped topping over the surface. Scatter chocolate shavings or mini chips on top if using. Cover loosely with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 4 hours, or overnight for best results.
Serve. Slice with a sharp knife, wiping the blade between cuts for clean slices. Serve cold directly from the refrigerator.

Nutrition (per serving)

Heavenly Chocolate Pie — When the Table Holds More Than Food