Chocolate pecan pie

This trip has been about people. And because of it, I’ve got to see some amazing places*. Last week I flew from the swamp to the high desert to see my friend Robin. Robin and I met a year ago in the woods in New Hampshire, at an artists’ colony, which is kind of like camp for grown-ups. But with better food. We bonded over lots of things, but mostly fiercely over our joint obsession with the chocolate pecan pie. Maryel, the chef at the colony, had prepared it for Thanksgiving, and, after going back for seconds (and maybe even thirds) we begged her for the recipe. Unfortunately I left that recipe back in Australia, not realising that it would be the perfect dessert to make for Christmas dinner with Robin and her boyfriend Don til I arrived in Santa Fe. So I winged it with help from the internet and my memory. And it worked out just fine - sweet, gooey, and all the shades of brown, which seemed appropriate in a place with that particular palette. Where that colour encompasses rust on a pick-up, the golden glow of farolitos lining the roads and rooftops at night, the warm cinnamon of the adobes, and the deep, dark brown of the Stetson I bought to keep the desert light at bay.

* And eat the most amazing things. In New Mexico: enchiladas with blue corn tortillas and green chile, Mexican hot cocoa with cinnamon, and the world’s largest, stickiest (and possibly most delicious) cinnamon roll.

Chocolate pecan pie
Adapted from this recipe, but inspired by memories and Maryel

As difficult as this is, you want to let this cool to room temperature before eating. 

3 tablespoons butter, melted

3 eggs, beaten

3/4 cup brown sugar

2 tablespoons flour

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

3/4 cup dark corn syrup

3 tablespoons strong coffee

1 1/2 cups pecan halves

1/2 cup chocolate chips

1 (9-inch) unbaked pie shell (I used this recipe)  

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Melt butter in a small saucepan. While butter is melting, add beaten eggs to a medium sized bowl. Stir in brown sugar, flour, vanilla extract, corn syrup and coffee until combined. Add butter when just melted.

Mix in the pecans and chocolate morsels. Stir together and pour mixture into pie shell. 

Place on a sheet tray and bake for 50 to 60 minutes.

Nanaimo bars

Canada is responsible for so many of my favourite things - maple syrup, Neil Young, Alice Munro, Anne of Green Gables... it's got the best flag, wonderful place names (Winnipeg, Saskatchewan, Newfoundland...), two languages and these biscuity-cheesecakey-chocolatey squares, named after a town in British Columbia.

Traditionally, Nanaimo bars are a no-bake affair but this recipe, which I discovered on a Canadian food blog, calls for a tiny bit of oven time and takes a few liberties with ingredients. The end result is well worth it - a chewy, nutty biscuit-base wrapped in the aroma of toasted coconut, a robust, lightly sweet cheesecake filling and a rich, skating-rink-smooth layer of dark chocolate ganache to top it all off. What else is there to say? O Canada.

Pear pecan streusel cake

Just last month, I went to the Blue Mountains for the weekend with friends. It rained. And rained. And when it wasn't raining, the fog set in - so thick as to obscure all trace of the majestic escarpments the area is famous for. So we hunkered down inside, in the holiday house we'd rented in Blackheath. The six of us, inner-city residents all, wandered from room to room marvelling at the sheer space, which was to our eyes as vast and impressive as the tourist vistas we didn't see. A table that seats more than three comfortably! A kitchen several people can be in at a time! A front and back yard! A separate living room! With a fireplace!

And so, in the end, we were more than happy to stay in. Playing board games and charades. Twirling sparklers on the terrace in the drizzle. Launching paper planes out into the misty backyard to see whose could fly furthest (not mine). Answering trivia questions. Sampling stouts, drinking red wine and coffee made from home-roasted beans. Roasting marshmallows. And eating this cake by the fire.








I hadn't made this particular cake before and quite honestly, wasn't sure how it was going to turn out. It was so modest in its list of ingredients - just one pear, a single egg, a mere two tablespoons of butter... I was apprehensive. But as it turns out, it's one of those cases where the whole is definitely greater than the sum of its parts. Together, all those humble elements combine to make one lovely, rustic, truly memorable cake. The pear is pillowy soft, the pecan topping crisp and crunchy and the spices suffuse it all with a wonderful warmth, as satisfying as a fire on a rainy winter weekend. Regardless of the weather, this is cake worth staying in for.