Toll House Chocolate Chip Pie

Year seven. The year that starts with a sunflower on my wrist and a business in a kitchen and a ten-year-old who reads Bourdain and a seven-year-old who visited a fire station and a two-year-old who thinks the moon belongs to him. Year seven. The building year. The year where Sarah's Table stops being a side hustle and starts being a trajectory.

Sarah's Table, March report: twelve recurring clients. Revenue averaging $600/week on Sundays alone. The math that started wobbly is now walking confidently and occasionally jogging. I'm cooking for office lunches, church functions, birthday parties, and — new this month — a wedding rehearsal dinner. A WEDDING. Someone is trusting Sarah's Table with the meal before the most important day of their lives. The rehearsal dinner is in April. Forty people. $1,200. The biggest order yet. The order that changes the category from "side hustle" to "business." The business is a business now. The napkin on the counter is a company.

Spring in Nashville and the dogwoods are blooming and the air is that particular March quality where you can smell both winter leaving and summer arriving and the in-between is the best version of the city. I drove by Antioch. The crocuses. Still purple. Still stubborn. Still pushing through the cold ground every March like clockwork because that's what they do and that's what I do and the doing never stops. Seven years of driving by the Antioch house. Seven years of checking on the crocuses. They're always there. They're always purple. The reliability of a flower that blooms whether anyone watches or not is the most Mitchell thing in nature.

Chloe is finishing fifth grade — her last year of elementary school. She's been at this school since kindergarten. Next year: middle school. The word "middle school" makes me feel like someone opened a window in a moving car — sudden, cold, too much air at once. Middle school means: lockers, changing classes, new people, the social ecosystem that destroys and builds teenagers in equal measure. Chloe is ready. Chloe has been ready for adult-level challenges since she was nine and made chicken parmesan and got "that's RIGHT" from Lorraine. She's ready. I'm not. But my readiness has never been required for any of my children's milestones. They just go. And I watch from parking lots and cry.

I made the first Sarah's Table special: a "Nashville Comfort Box" — a to-go box of cornbread, pulled pork, coleslaw, and a slice of pie, packaged for individual sale at $18 each. Sold twelve at the community center on Saturday. TWELVE. Twelve strangers bought my food in individual boxes and took them home and ate my food at their tables and that is the most incredible thing: my food on OTHER people's tables. Sarah's Table on OTHER tables. The table is extending. The table is everywhere someone eats my food. The table is not a piece of furniture. The table is a concept. And the concept is growing.

Every Nashville Comfort Box needed a closing argument, and for me, pie has always been that argument. I went back and forth on which pie to include — something fruit-forward, something custard-y, something that felt distinctly Southern — and then I remembered that the most reliable thing in my baking rotation has always been the Toll House Chocolate Chip Pie: gooey in the center, crisp at the edge, the kind of slice that doesn’t need explanation. The same way the crocuses don’t need an audience, this pie doesn’t need a occasion. It just needs to be at the table — whatever table that turns out to be.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 55 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 10 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 unbaked 9-inch pie shell
2 large eggs
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened and cut into pieces
1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 cup chopped walnuts (optional)
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
Pinch of salt
Whipped cream or vanilla ice cream, for serving

Instructions

Preheat the oven. Set your oven to 325°F. Place the unbaked pie shell in a 9-inch pie dish and crimp the edges. Set aside.
Beat the eggs. In a large bowl, beat the eggs with a hand mixer or whisk until foamy, about 1 minute.
Add dry ingredients. Add the flour, granulated sugar, and brown sugar to the beaten eggs and mix until well combined and smooth.
Incorporate the butter. Add the softened butter pieces and vanilla extract to the bowl. Beat on medium speed until the mixture is uniform and creamy, about 2 minutes. Add a pinch of salt and stir to combine.
Fold in the chips and nuts. Using a spatula, gently fold in the chocolate chips and walnuts (if using) until evenly distributed throughout the batter.
Fill the pie shell. Pour the batter into the prepared unbaked pie shell, spreading it evenly to the edges with the back of a spoon.
Bake. Bake at 325°F for 50—55 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out mostly clean with just a few moist crumbs. The top should be deep golden brown and the filling set but still slightly soft in the very center.
Cool before slicing. Allow the pie to cool on a wire rack for at least 20 minutes before slicing — this lets the filling firm up so it holds its shape when cut. Serve warm or at room temperature with whipped cream or a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

Nutrition (per serving)

Toll House Chocolate Chip Pie — The Slice That Made Sarah’s Table Real