Walnut Crust Pumpkin Pie

November. The trees in Antioch have fully turned — red maples and golden oaks and that one stubborn magnolia on our street that stays green like it didn't get the memo. The light in Nashville changes in November. It gets softer, lower, the kind of light that makes even a parking lot look like a painting. I notice light now. I didn't used to. Maybe that's what school does — it teaches you to look at things more carefully. Or maybe that's what October's 96 did. When you prove to yourself that your brain works, you start trusting your eyes too.

Jayden turned twenty months old and celebrated by learning to jump. Not well — it's more of a crouch-and-spring that gets about two inches of air — but he thinks he's an Olympian. He jumps off the bottom step of the porch. He jumps over cracks in the sidewalk. He tried to jump off the couch, which I caught in time, barely. He has no fear. That's beautiful and terrifying in a nearly-two-year-old. Beautiful because he hasn't learned to be afraid yet. Terrifying because the world is going to teach him.

Chloe has started helping me study. Not real helping — she's four — but she sits next to me on the couch and holds a textbook upside down and says, "I'm studying too, Mama." She turns pages with great seriousness. She makes notes on a piece of paper (squiggly lines). She is four years old and she is imitating my ambition, and that is the whole point. That is the ENTIRE point. I went to school so my kids would see what reaching looks like. Chloe sees it. She's already reaching.

I'm starting to think about Thanksgiving. Our Thanksgiving is always at Mama's — small, loud, too much food, the Mitchell way. Kevin said he's coming this year AND he's bringing Crystal. This will be the first time any of us meet her. Amber and Darren are driving up from Chattanooga. It'll be the most people in Mama's apartment since... well, since Daddy left and the apartment got emptier. We're filling it back up. Different people, different shape, but full.

I made a practice run of my cornbread dressing this week. Not stuffing — dressing. Southerners will fight you about the difference, and I am a Southerner, and the difference is: stuffing goes inside the bird, dressing goes in a casserole dish beside the bird, and dressing is better, and I will not be taking questions. Cornbread crumbled up, mixed with sautéed celery, onion, sage, broth, and baked until the top is crispy and the inside is soft. It's Earline's recipe. The card says: "Dressing. You already know." EARLINE. I DID NOT ALREADY KNOW. I had to call Mama for proportions. Mama said, "Use your hands." Great. Very scientific. Very helpful. But I used my hands and the dressing came out perfect, and maybe Earline was right. Maybe you do already know. Maybe cooking is just trusting the knowledge that lives in your hands.

That dressing came out perfect, and something about it — the way Earline’s handwriting said “you already know” and turned out to be right — put me in the mood for every old comfort I could think of. So I went ahead and made this walnut crust pumpkin pie, which has been sitting in my recipe folder since last fall waiting for the right moment. Turns out the right moment is whenever your hands know something your head hasn’t caught up to yet, and your apartment is full again in a new way, and it’s time to bake something that feels like home.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 55 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 15 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

For the walnut crust:
1 1/2 cups finely chopped walnuts
3 tablespoons granulated sugar
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
Pinch of salt
For the filling:
1 can (15 oz) pure pumpkin puree
3/4 cup packed brown sugar
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
1 cup heavy cream
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/2 teaspoon salt

Instructions

Preheat the oven. Heat oven to 350°F. Lightly grease a 9-inch pie plate.
Make the walnut crust. In a medium bowl, combine the chopped walnuts, granulated sugar, melted butter, and pinch of salt. Stir until the mixture resembles wet sand. Press evenly into the bottom and up the sides of the prepared pie plate.
Par-bake the crust. Bake the crust for 8–10 minutes, until lightly golden and fragrant. Remove from the oven and let cool for 10 minutes. Increase oven temperature to 425°F.
Mix the filling. In a large bowl, whisk together the pumpkin puree, brown sugar, eggs, heavy cream, and vanilla until smooth. Add the cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, cloves, and salt, and whisk until fully combined.
Fill and bake. Pour the pumpkin filling into the cooled walnut crust. Bake at 425°F for 15 minutes, then reduce the oven temperature to 350°F and continue baking for 35–40 minutes, until the filling is set at the edges and just slightly wobbly in the very center.
Cool completely. Transfer the pie to a wire rack and let cool for at least 2 hours before slicing. The filling will firm up as it cools. Serve at room temperature or chilled, with whipped cream if you like.

Nutrition (per serving)

Walnut Crust Pumpkin Pie — The Dish That Says the Table Is Full Again