Around the World in 80 Plates: Pecan Pie

So far on our global culinary journey, I’ve covered some of the world’s greatest (and lesser-known) savoury dishes, but it’s time for a change. With its sticky, nutty, booze-fuelled filling, Pecan Pie is surely one of America’s greatest desserts, and it’s about time I dived into some sweeter culinary classics.

As is often the case with ‘traditional’ dishes, tracing their origins is pretty tough, but with pecans native to the southern states, pecan desserts such as this one are most commonly associated with the south. New Orleans is a particular hub for the famous pie, with some believing that it was invented by the French, shortly after they settled in the city.

Nowadays, in the US, corn syrup is the most common ingredient used to get the deliciously sweet and sticky flavour and texture, however, prior to the invention of corn syrup, and in Pecan Pie recipes not of direct US origin, molasses, treacle, syrups and maple syrup are all used as alternatives.

Closely linked to Thanksgiving and Christmas celebrations, there are a number of variations of Pecan Pie, the most common being with the addition of Bourbon whiskey – another product which is also symbolic of the deep south. Occasionally, chocolate or chocolate chips are added to the pie, although this seems to be less ‘traditional’.

Christopher’s

My first couple of experiences of Pecan Pie were both in London, the first being at Christopher’s, an American-influenced restaurant in Covent Garden, and the second, a new menu item created by Claire at my favourite street food stall, A Pie Party. The Christopher’s pie slice was delicious – warmed through and served with ice cream, and was slightly more cakey (and without a traditional crust) than Claire’s version, which is definitely more conventional. I was apprehensive when I first bought a slice from A Pie Party, as unlike the Christopher’s version, this one was flavoured with Bourbon, and I’ve never been great with boozy flavours in desserts. Unsurprisingly, I had nothing to worry about, as Claire had got the balance spot on – a definite punch of whiskey flavours without it overpowering the whole dessert. The pecans were definitely more the star of the show in this second version, with no cakey filling – simply a classic pastry filled with a sticky, non-dense pecan mixture. Both were very different, but equally as delicious.

A Pie Party

Having had New Orleans on my mind for the last couple of years, I was lucky enough to spend a few days there earlier this year, precariously close to when all travel was put on hold due to Covid-19. Of all the places in the world to try this dessert, I was going to land in the epicentre of Pecan Pie greatness. It was tough trying to narrow down exactly where I would indulge in a slice of the classic pie, with it generally being a staple on most menus, but after conducting a little of my own research, casual dining restaurant Mulate’s seemed like a good shout.

It felt like the most American place I’d ever step foot in – the kind of setting you’d see the Teen Mom cast being filmed in, talking over their latest dramas. It’s a weirdly large place, with endless tables and super high ceilings, and your typical uniform all-smiles service. And to be quite honest, it’s got a pretty down-market feel. However… this is precisely the reason you don’t judge a book by its cover (not that there’s actually anything wrong with the interior), because the Pecan Pie… oh that Pecan Pie. A sensation. I definitely made the right shout having it warmed with a dollop of ice cream – as the ice cream melted into the gooey, sticky filling, it was honestly heaven on a plate. Of all the Pecan Pie slices mentioned in this post, this one definitely takes the top spot.

So when I touched down back in the UK, I felt inspired by the tastes of NOLA, and had bought many sticky pecan related goodies to cook with. I actually already had the Jamie’s America (Jamie Oliver) cookbook and there’s a whole section in there on New Orleans, including a Pecan Pie recipe. 

Looking at the results, the pastry case definitely shouldn’t go up as high as this did but this was due to the pie tin that I used combined with significant excess pastry based on the recipe quantities. I’d say overall it’s a decent recipe. The filling tasted good, full of sticky pecans without an overwhelming Bourbon flavour, however, the pastry on the other hand was slightly underwhelming. It didn’t have the lovely crisp, buttery texture that I was hoping for, but how much of that was down to my cooking (and shit, overpowering oven) I can’t say.

Pecan Pie is a dessert that really does deserve to go global. That sticky, nuttiness with a hit of Bourbon to the back of the throat is certainly a more adult taste, but because of that, if you’ve ever thought you didn’t like it, I’d recommend going to back it a few years down the line (our tastes really do change over time…).

It can be a bit pricey to recreate at home, but if you still want your fix without all the effort, there are so many restaurants and bakeries out there that can sort you right out. If you can’t quite justify crossing the Atlantic for it, definitely visit Claire at A Pie Party, or Christopher’s in Covent Garden for two solid New Orleanian efforts. 

¡Comemos!

xo

Around the World in 80 Plates: Lángos

Deep fried dough. No one can explain why something that sounds so basic and actually quite gross is in reality so delicious. It still baffles me that there are so many different ways of making deep fried dough into snacks and meals, each one of them bringing something completely different to the table, literally.

My travels are this week taking us to the home of the Lángos – a deep fried dough featuring as many customisable toppings as you’d like. And where does this delicacy hail from?

Hungary.

If you’ve read my post on my trip to Budapest last November, you may already have known that.

Don’t be too tempted to jump on the idea that this is like a Hungarian pizza. There are many differences. Obviously here the dough is fried, and that’s key, but sometimes mashed potato is added for a fluffy, slightly creamy texture. Secondly, the main topping tends to be sour cream – not a tomato sauce in sight. And last to mention, is unfortunately, the (optional) cheese topping on a Lángos doesn’t tend to be melted, but don’t let that put you off, this actually allows you to get a lot more flavour from the cheese, even if the texture isn’t quite as mouth-wateringly gooey.

Despite not being as large as a typical medium-sized pizza, as it’s deep-fried, it can be pretty heavy, so don’t underestimate just how filling they are, even if the toppings are minimal.

The Lángos is often described as a street food – in fact, once again, it was in my Lonely Planet Street Food guide that I first came across it. Having said that, one of the main qualities of street food tends to be that it’s super easy to eat on the go. As a pretty stodgy flatbread, the Lángos doesn’t really fulfil this brief, and so whilst it’s cheap and easy to quickly whip up outside the confines of a restaurant, you’re probably going to want to take a seat to eat it.

Back when bread was regularly baked in every household, the Lángos dough would be excess leftover from bread-making, and would be baked in the same way, however seeing as such daily home baking is no longer practised, the dough now ends up being deep-fried instead. Back when it was baked in the bread oven, it was placed right at the front, close to the flame, which is where the delicacy gets its name, with láng being the Hungarian word for flame.

Moving on to my own experiences of the dish. I first tried it at the Central Market in Budapest last year. The upstairs section of the huge market hall has an area dedicated to food, which is comparatively small in size, meaning that queues of people are packed in to one small space, all eagerly awaiting their delicious lunch meal. Whilst my friends opted for slightly more nutritious salad and veg-topped versions, I of course went for the meatiest feast I could find. Sour cream, grated cheese, onion, chicken, pepperoni and ham struggled to contain themselves on top of the dough base as we hunted for somewhere to perch. This is by no means a light snack; be prepared to feel a little heavy afterwards, but it’s worth it. To be honest, Lángos aren’t the most flavoursome meals – other than the flavour from the toppings, there’s little seasoning or added ingredients, other than perhaps a garlicky rub on the base, but the appeal here is definitely more due to tradition and doughy, fried indulgence.

Having said that, when I attempted my own version at home, I have to admit that it was even better than the one I tried in Budapest. After frying, along with the standard sour cream and cheese base, I topped the dough with shredded chicken, pancetta, rocket and onion. Whilst the onion on my Lángos in Budapest was raw, I decided to cook it this time, just to avoid the pungency that raw onion can have. The seasoned toppings were really tasty, and the addition of mashed potato to the dough made it super soft, whilst still maintaining the slightly crispy exterior.

I would definitely make Lángos again at home. They’re really simple, although I would fry the dough for slightly longer next time, just for extra crispiness, as my fear of overcooking it this time made it a little too squidgy in the centre.

And that’s dish number 2 in the series complete. We’ve gone from a healthy, plant-based tomatoey pasta lentil dish last time round, to a deep fried fully- loaded doughy delight, so you can be sure that there are no rules when it comes to deciding which dishes to showcase next.

There are loads of recipes for Lángos online, so with so much time at home at the minute, why not try your own hand at one of Hungary’s signature dishes for an indulgent weekend treat.

¡Comemos!

xo