It was Mabel Norman who threw the first custard pie in the film A Noise from the Deep (1913). The target was her screen husband Fatty Arbuckle’s face. The gag became so popular that families have been throwing dessert items at each other ever since.
This Thanksgiving, the urge to sling dainties might be at an all-time high, thanks to millions of emotionally exhausted Americans being compelled to gather around the dining table with relatives they’d much rather not have to deal with right now.
Tensions will be soaring. Mothers across the nation will gently threaten their adult children with phrases like “This will probably be your grandmother’s last Thanksgiving, so let’s make it a lovely one.”
But is anyone really going to have a lovely Thanksgiving this year? Especially if your dear, teetering-on-the-verge-of-death Meemaw voted for someone who thinks gold toilets are fancy?
Doubtful.
But if you can’t have a “nice” Thanksgiving, I’m here to remind you that you can at least have a memorable one.
So when your host or hostess asks to to “bring a dessert to share”, don’t just bring an ordinary pie.
Bring a throwing pie.
What is a throwing pie?
A throwing pie is designed to be used as a nonlethal projectile and consists of three basic layers:
A light and crumbly pastry shell.
A layer of custard, plain or flavored.
As much heavily-whipped cream as the first two layers can support.
N.B.: If your intended victim is a child, mini throwing pies might be more appropriate. Prepare several.
I have provided an example of the first two layers in the initial photograph of this post. Again, you may use a plain vanilla custard, but I have chosen to add pumpkin purée and a few spices in order to both play along with the Thanksgiving theme and to make it seem as much like an eating pie as possible, so as not to arouse the suspicions of my conspiracy theorist cousin.
As a final flourish, I have added a sprinkle of pulverized praline I had left over in the freezer from when I made pimento cheese pops in much happier times. They do double duty as both garnish and possible eye irritant.
What does NOT belong in a throwing pie?
There are several things one shouldn’t use when making a throwing pie.
Do NOT serve in a Pyrex or ceramic baking dish. The point of throwing is humiliation, not physical damage. Always use store-bought frozen pie shells that come in flimsy aluminum trays.
Broken glass (See: above)
Decent ingredients. Why waste precious vanilla beans to make throwing custard when imitation vanilla will suffice? Why bother to make custard from scratch at all when you could use cheap, powdery instant?
Good eggs. By not using “good eggs”, I do not mean to suggest that you use ones that have gone off. Food safety should always be respected and I would hate for you to have a salmonella outbreak on your conscience. Use the cheapest eggs you can find. If your intended victim has factored the price of eggs into their faulty decision making, this dash of irony will add to your enjoyment.
Anything your victim is allergic to. No one will applaud as your family nemesis turns light blue from anaphylaxis. The idea is not to send them to the hospital, but into the bathroom to hide/scream/clean themselves up before leaving.
I consider myself lucky this year because I am spending Thanksgiving in blissful solitude and yet this morning I felt as though I might be missing out on something important, since I am now exhorting a few thousand people to throw pies at family members they don’t like very much anymore. So I did the only thing I could think of to set things right:
So glad I used real vanilla.
Have the happiest Thanksgiving possible under the circumstances.
Next week, I will be encouraging my readers to bring back the lost art of the political pie in the face.
I’m compiling a fantasy list. Nancy Mace is on it. Also Chachi. Who’s on yours?
Where might one purchase 76,987,891 pies on short notice please? Asking for a country.
I could watch that Anita Bryant video all the livelong day. As satisfying as the one from a few years ago where the nazi gets punched in the face. Blech, I hate these people. My fantasy list reaches to the moon and back. Thankfully, we will be just four at the table on Thursday and we are all on the same (which is to say correct) side. xo