"It tastes like a prune": Vegan Mince Pie

The weeks are spinning by so fast, and Christmas is only 22 days away, as the Christmas Countdown Bar someone downloaded at work keeps reminding me (thanks, I didn't forget I have ALL my Christmas shopping yet to do). But see, I'm getting ahead of myself. Thanksgiving happened, though you may have missed it--it was squeezed in somewhere between controversy about stores opening the day before Black Friday and actual Black Friday.

My Thanksgiving was spent with wonderful friends of Howard's (now mine, too) in St. Louis. Since the mother of our host made three pies my offer of sour cream pumpkin pie was politely looked over. In truth, it was kind of nice to sit on the couch with the guys, feet up, dogs around, watching football. But don't think I watched football. I read Middlemarch.

My Thanksgiving pie was for the vegan Thanksgiving with coworkers. A bit ago I made the mincemeat, which I think I sort of slurred over when writing about hot toddies. Mincemeat is such an old-fashioned pie. It used to be made with actual meat and eggs and gradually bastardized into just a spiced fruit pie. If you buy normal mincemeat in a jar it often contains suet. What's suet? It sounds lyrical, like a song sung by two Susan. In fact, it's kidney fat from a cow or lamb. I don't think my vegan coworkers would have appreciated that addition, so I adapted a vegan recipe from Joy of Baking, making lots of exceptions for my wallet and our local grocery mart.

My mincemeat contained:

4 T vegetable shortening
1 c apple juice
2 apples peeled and grated
1/2 c golden raisins
1 c dried currants
1/2 c dried cranberries
1/2 c dried cherries
1/2 c dried prunes
zest and juice of one orange
2/3 c brown sugar
1/3 c dark rum
1/3 c brandy
1/2 t cinnamon
1/2 t nutmeg
1/4 t ginger
1/4 t cloves
1/4 t salt

Old people read that and be like:

PRUUUUUNES!!!!!

You bring it all to a boil and then simmer until almost all of the liquid is evaporated, then you add a bit more booze, cool, cover, and refrigerate until needed. I had it sitting for nine days and it was fine. I took a swig of brandy and stirred in a little more before putting it in the crust.

Howard put it in the oven for me, since I had to work all day before the party, and said he didn't think it looked "golden" enough, so melted some butter, took out the pastry brush, and was just about to give it a nice buttery glaze when he remembered he was about to attend a vegan dinner.

Close call.

If I say so myself, my lattice was the best I've made so far. And do I have a picture of the complete pie? Of course not. But here's the last piece, which I'm getting ready to eat:

Looks like it dragged itself to the rim of the pie plate to die, guts trailing, but it's good, trust me. It's really dense, nicely spiced, and I like the tiny bursts of fruit. At the party, Susanna squinted and said: "It tastes like a prune. But...like, good." I'll take that.

Not sure you could get a clear survey of how the desserts were, because by the time we ate them everyone was a little tipsy. And by that I mean most of us had had more whiskey-cider drinks and mulled wine than was altogether good for us. My Hangover Breakfast was this:

Note the Emergen-C and assortment of pills (also that weird Buddha Hand fruit in the background--I didn't have that for breakfast).