Shoofly Pie — The Test Pie That Teaches You Everything

Elijah is five months old. He sits now — for real, without the cushion props, just sits on the floor with his hands planted between his legs like a tiny Buddha contemplating the carpet. He sits for about thirty seconds before toppling, which is thirty seconds of triumph followed by surprise followed by laughing. The topple-laugh is still active. Gravity remains hilarious.

The sitting means the world has changed for him — he can SEE now. Not just the ceiling and the faces hovering above. He can see the room. The fire trucks on the floor. The books on the shelf. Chloe's face at his level instead of above. He sits and he looks and you can almost see his brain cataloging: THINGS. There are THINGS. Everywhere. And I can SEE them. The wonder of a baby discovering the visible world from an upright position is the closest thing to watching someone fall in love for the first time.

Thanksgiving prep is starting. The menu is the same — it's always the same, it was the same when I was seven and it'll be the same when I'm seventy. But this year's Thanksgiving is different: pandemic Thanksgiving. Small. Just us. Mama, me, three kids. Kevin and Crystal can't come (Crystal is still in Ohio; Kevin is at Fort Campbell alone, which is its own kind of Thanksgiving). Amber and Darren are staying in Chattanooga. Terrence is with Gloria in Atlanta. The table that was crowded last year will be quiet this year. Five people. Mama, me, Chloe, Jayden, and Elijah in the high chair. Five is enough. Five is plenty. Five is a family.

I started the prep: the cornbread for the dressing needs to be baked and crumbled a day ahead. The turkey needs brining. The pies need planning. Chloe volunteered to make the pecan pie (cooking class confidence — Rosa taught pies two weeks ago). I said yes. Chloe is making a pie for Thanksgiving. My eight-year-old is contributing a dish. The kitchen is officially shared. The torch is officially in the process of being passed, even if the passer is only twenty-eight and has no intention of letting go. You can pass and hold at the same time. Earline did it. Lorraine is doing it. I'm doing it. The torch has always been shared.

I made a test pie — pumpkin, from scratch, to make sure my oven is calibrated correctly (it's not; it runs hot by 15 degrees and I've known this for two years and refuse to fix it because I've learned to compensate and the compensation is part of the recipe now). The test pie was good. Not great. The Thanksgiving pie will be great. The test is where you learn. The performance is where you deliver. I've been learning my whole life. Thanksgiving is the performance.

That test pumpkin pie taught me what I needed to know about my oven, but it was the whole ritual of it—the rolling, the waiting, the slicing into something you made with your own hands—that reminded me why pie is the centerpiece of our table every single year. If you’re in that same pre-Thanksgiving mode, practicing before the performance, Shoofly Pie is the one I’d hand you: it’s forgiving, it’s deeply old-fashioned, and it tastes exactly like someone’s grandmother loved you. Chloe is making pecan; I’ll have this one ready alongside it, because the torch can absolutely be shared, and so can the pie table.

Shoofly Pie

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 40 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour | Servings: 8

Ingredients

• 1 unbaked 9-inch pie shell
• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 2/3 cup packed brown sugar
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1/3 cup cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 cup boiling water
• 1 cup unsulfured molasses
• 1 large egg, beaten
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Instructions

1. Heat the oven. Preheat oven to 375°F (or 360°F if your oven runs hot—you’ll know). Place the unbaked pie shell in a 9-inch pie dish and set aside.
2. Make the crumb topping. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, brown sugar, and salt. Add the cold butter pieces and work them in with your fingertips until the mixture resembles coarse, uneven crumbs. Set aside.
3. Make the molasses filling. In a large bowl, dissolve the baking soda in the boiling water and stir until it foams. Add the molasses, beaten egg, and vanilla extract. Whisk until smooth and fully combined.
4. Layer the pie. Pour the molasses mixture into the unbaked pie shell. Sprinkle the crumb topping evenly over the top, covering the filling completely.
5. Bake. Bake for 35–40 minutes, until the filling is set (it should jiggle only very slightly at the center) and the crumb topping is golden. If the crust edges brown too quickly, tent them with foil after the first 20 minutes.
6. Cool before slicing. Allow the pie to cool on a wire rack for at least 1 hour before slicing. The filling firms up as it cools—this is not optional, and patience is the whole point.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 370 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 12g | Carbs: 63g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 290mg