Way back when, there was a fad for so-called “Impossible Pies.” Made with a commercial baking mix, the ingredients were whirled in the blender and poured into a greased pie pan. A crust formed as the pie baked: easy!
My basic qualm about the recipe is that the baking mix contained hydrogenated shortening. I try not to over-worry about such things, but as well as being bad for your arteries, hydrogenated shortening is flavorless. So when I ran across this simple butter and egg-based impossible pie recipe, from a Land O’Lakes Shortcut Baking booklet, I gave it a try. The result was really delicious. A delicate, silky custard tasting of coconut, vanilla and nutmeg forms magically above a soft crust. The coconut flavor is not pronounced. This pie is so easy and inexpensive, but it can be company fare.
Magic Coconut Custard Pie
2 cups milk
1 cup sweetened flaked coconut
3/4 cup sugar
1/2 cup flour
3 tablespoons butter, melted
1 teaspoon vanilla
Heat oven to 325 degrees. Grease and flour a 9-inch ceramic or Pyrex pie pan; set aside.
Pour milk into a blender, and add remaining ingredients. Cover; blend at medium speed for about 1 to 2 minutes. The batter will have the consistency of a pancake batter.
Pour mixture into prepared pie plate. Bake for 40 to 50 minutes or until knife inserted in center comes out clean. Sprinkle with nutmeg, if desired. I decorated the pie with a sliced strawberry and a little bunch of grapes.
Baking notes: Be sure to use a 9-inch pie pan. The batter will fill up the pan almost to the top–don’t worry. It will grab the sides of the pan, puff up and not run over. Test the pie after about 40 minutes baking with the tip of a sharp knife. The pie will be a bit quivery, but the knife should come out clean if it’s done. Return to the oven and bake for a few minutes longer if the knife shows liquid batter. The pie can be served warm or cold, and cuts well either way.
I was standing by the kitchen window sipping a cup of coffee when I noticed two rabbits hippity hop into the yard. The coffee was from Starbucks, and the caffeine was beginning to effect me like a hammer blow to the head. Perhaps because of this, I began imagining a story for the rabbits.
He was a veritable Brad Pitt among rabbits.
She was an Angelina Jolie.
It was love at first sight.
My romantic reverie was interrupted when Jim shouted “She’s giving birth!” The gardener in me had conflicted feelings.
But all was not as it seemed. They had a showdown.
Suddenly, all rabbit hell broke loose.
There was a truce, and Angelina smoothed her ruffled fur.
I have the feeling this rabbit rumpus isn’t over. To be continued. . . .
My peach blossom tulips are blooming. Always love them! Peace, Fran