The one true pumpkin pie that our family insists on having for Christmas and Thanksgiving. We didn't invent it, but we've been making variations on this pie for thirty years. (And yes, the photo at right is the actual pie now cooling in my refrigerator.)
Here's the recipe, as presented in Death Dines In, edited by Claudia Bishop and Dean James (Berkley, 2002). In my story in this anthology, Meg takes THE pie to a cousin's birthday dinner, and. . . well, our assignment for the book was to feature a meal, a murder, and a recipe:
Mother's Sinfully Rich Pumpkin Mousse Pie
Like Meg's mother, my mom found this recipe in the sNewport News Daily Press about thirty years ago. It's much more work than the average pumpkin pie, but the Langslow and Andrews families think it's worth the trouble.
1 9-inch pie shell, cooled
(Mother will forgive you if you buy a precooked one. Or if you don't tell her, she'll never guess.)
1 envelope unflavored gelatin
½ C praline liqueur or Amaretto
1 16 ounce can of pumpkin
4 egg yolks, lightly beaten
½ C packed brown sugar
½ C granulated sugar
¼ C butter or margarine, melted
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon ground cloves
4 egg whites
1/8 teaspoon cream of tartar
¾ C whipped cream. Yes, real cream.
Soften gelatin in liqueur, set aside.
Heat pumpkin and all ingredients through cloves in a saucepan over medium heat.
Stir constantly until lightly boiling and slightly thickened.
Remove from heat.
Beat in gelatin mixture.
Cool, but do not allow to harden completely.
Beat the egg whites, cream of tartar and a pinch of salt until stiff peaks form.
Fold egg whites and whipped cream into pumpkin mixture.
Pour into pie shells, mounding in center.
(You may have to pour part in, let it harden a bit, and then fill the rest. It makes a very full pie.)
Garnish with more whipped cream.