Nesselrode Pie

I had a late start to my baking today, and I forgot to take the pie dough out of the freezer last night, so I had to scramble to see what I could do today. I have no proper cake tins (and I still feel burned by my last attempt), so that narrowed it down to pie, but it had to be one with an unbaked crumb crust. There were only a few of those, and many of them you had to do at least a day ahead of time.

Which is how I ended up making a Nesselrode pie. I think it is an awesome name. It calls to mind Nessarose, the evangelistic witch of the east in Gregory Maguire's Wicked. Apparently, it is a pie that is named after a Russian count (pictured above), and has been out of fashion for decades (unlike his hairstyle, unfortunately). But for those who know of it, it is thought of fondly as a delicious, quintessential New York dessert.

Here are just three of the ingredients: unflavored gelatin, four eggs, and dried fruit. Make a pie out of that in your mind. Sounds kinda gross, right? I figured I could buy all of those things at the corner convenience store, but no. You can't get it at the health food store, either, but I guessed that.

I didn't mind walking to the grocery store because it's a beautiful day. There were lots of flowers blooming in the Andersonville yards today. The gheys had their deep vees on, showing off their tacky chest tattoos ("Born this Way!"). Monday it snowed, and the sadistic band at Kopi played Christmas music. "Jingle Bells" in spring is just depressing.

Once at the grocery store, I was lost. I had no idea where to find anything I was looking for. Mixed candied fruit = fruit cocktail??? Thank goodness my mom picked up when I called! Saved the pie from a watery fate. I had to ask an associate to help me find something, and he was gone for almost ten minutes (or maybe five, standing still in a grocery store stretches out time) while I stood in place, peering down aisles, wondering where they kept the unflavored gelatin. When he came back, he told me what I wanted was seasonal. Was Nesselrode pie a holiday dessert? I wondered.

It isn't.

The real pleasure to this pie is that it calls for rum. I splurged and bought two beautiful glass bottles of Coca-Cola.

my pussy tastes his pepsi-cola

I poured myself a cool, tall rum-'n'-Coca-Cola and made my pie.

Songs for the day:

"You Are My Sunshine" - Johnny Cash

"Cola" - Lana Del Rey

"Rum 'n' Coca Cola" - Tim Tim mix

Each song led me onto others of the same, so I ended up listening to a lot of religious Johnny Cash. I was getting into it, thinking of my Grandma Ginny, and then Noreen (Strega Nona) decided she'd had enough and walked across the keyboard, shutting the music off.

One night Elise and I were sitting in the living room. Chris was asleep, or so she said, but then there was music playing. "Shouldn't you turn your music down?" Elise asked. "I don't have music on," I said. When I walked by my room, however, the Puppini Sisters were blaring from behind my door. I walked in to see Strega Nona-Noreen crouched on the keyboard.

She's becoming a real bad-ass cat. Today I saw her chase Twinkle Toes out the room. He is considerably larger and younger than she is. When she gets on the kitchen table, I try to sweep her off like I do with the other cats, but she sits like a gargoyle.

what are you gonna do about it, son?

The pie is now chilling in the fridge (just chillin'). I had to add the rum and lemon after the fact, because I forgot it. I think it will be fine.

The next step, right before serving, is spreading whipped cream and adding candied pineapple. I will take a picture of it and post it later. Now I have to get ready to go to a birthday party.

4/27/2014:
Here is the picture of the pie:

It was lovely, and really not too bad. But I only ate two pieces and ended up throwing most of it away at the end of the week. I just couldn't get my stomach excited about custard dry-fruit pie.