Chocolate Pie for Dad

In honor of St. Patrick’s Week, I decided to make my dad’s favorite pie.  I don’t ever remember him requesting it, but I don’t remember him ever requesting anything sweet.  And yet, in mom’s recipe box is a card that says Dad’s Favorite Pie.  Maybe it’s her dad’s; we’ll never know.  Believe it or not, the pie isn’t cloyingly sweet; mellow, smooth even, but not massively sweet.

I like simple recipes, especially if they aren’t lacking in flavor.  Mom used to love complicated, “fit for company”, recipes that totally wore her out so she was hardly able to enjoy her party.  I am not that girl.  I want to have fun at a get-together and the easier the better if it’s enjoyed by all.  I’m also not much of a show-off.  I want to brag about how easy it is so everyone else can relax and not worry about me ending up in a puddle on the kitchen floor.

Mom used to have quite a collection of pink depression glass.  I wish I knew where it went so I could cut a slice of this pie and put it on one of the ever so fancy plates.  It really did look totally cool.  The grated Hershey bar really does give it a polka dot look.  Kids like it too because it looks fun.  Let me know what you think.

32 large marshmallows

Melt with ½ cup milk and then cool

Beat ½ pint whipping cream and fold into the marshmallow mixture

Grate a ½ pound Hershey Milk Chocolate Bar and fold into the mixture

Combine

Pour into a chocolate cookie crust.

Chill

* From the Recipe Box:

This may or may not have been dad’s favorite pie

If you know how to make a graham cracker crust, you can make a chocolate cookie crust.  I’ve made a shortcut change to my crust.  I use Oreos or Jo-jo’s from Trader Joe’s instead of chocolate wafers, then I don’t have to add melted butter and sugar.  The cookie frosting binds and sweetens just fine.

This pie needs plenty of time in the refrigerator to firm up.

And yes, it remains rather polka dotted.

You could easily change up the Hershey bar to dark chocolate or even white.

and remember:  No matter how many coins you throw in the fountain, or the number of fingers your cross, if it’s not meant to be, it won’t happen.  Big kiss, Lynn