Maple Walnut Pie - Who Knew Syrup Was For More Than Pancakes?

Guest Written by the Pie Guy’s Wife

When my husband came up with the idea of a pie blog I was, to say the least, skeptical about the possibility of it coming into fruition. Then the planner part of me started in and helped sketch out a whole year of pies so if we decided to do this we were completely read to dive in for 52 weeks of a different pie each week. Yes, the Pie Guy will tell you I have a problem. I think he has actually, at least once.

When we started filling in the months after choosing some seasonal favorites I looked up National Holidays to tie into. In December I found National Syrup Day celebrated December 17^th. The Pie Guy has a bit of an obsession with maple syrup. He stops at a specific restaurant on our trips to his parents’ house to pick up“local” syrup that he hasn’t found an equivalent to local to our home. He also had a friend who swears by Grade B syrup, which we finally located in time to make this week’s pie.

A Tale of Two LMPs

On a business trip recently, a quick Yelp search yielded a result that sounded promising. A local diner, more than one person gushed about their desserts. Specifically, they gushed about their pie. Including this teaser:

"The pies...you must try coconut creme or lemon meringue."

So, of course, I went.

Look, Ma! No Pan!

Your average pumpkin or apple pie at Thanksgiving looks good. It looks like some effort has gone into the crust, maybe a top crust, possibly some artistically piped whipped cream. It's charming, in it's own way. It looks like the boy or girl next door, plenty attractive, but not likely to star in a movie. And really, we like them (both the pie, and the neighbor,) just the way they are.

There are pies that are all dolled up. They sport carefully cut out top crusts in the shape of autumn leaves, perfect lattice tops, delicately brushed with milk and sprinkled with glistening sugar, and they stand out among the plainer specimens around them. They're the prom queens and kings of pie. They might be made by pastry chefs or the neurotic woman that goes to your church. Carefully coiffed, every meringue wisp artistically draped and singed, just enough of the filling showing to show what they got. They look great, and they look like a lot of work.