The Art of Coconut Cream Pie
A Ritual in Sweetness, Memory, and Magical Craft
Not all spells are cast in circles. Some begin with flour on your fingers and the scent of toasted coconut dancing through a moonlit kitchen. This is a tale not only of pie—but of presence, practice, and the kind of enchantment that rises warm and golden from the oven.
In the twilight hush of Gloam + Pestle’s hearth, we offer this recipe not just as a dessert, but as a ritual. A celebration of craft. A lesson in layered sweetness and the slow alchemy of cream, spice, and steam.
Ritual Offering: Coconut Cream Pie
This is not just a pie. It’s a portal to warm memories, tropical dreams, and the sacred act of making something by hand. The kind of magic you can taste.
Ingredients
1 1/2 cups half-and-half, the creamy base of our magical concoction, waiting to cast its thicc spell.
1 1/2 cups (full fat) coconut milk, trapped in a can, dreaming of this very moment.
2 eggs, the binding spells of our pie, ready to weave their magic.
3/4 cup sugar, for just the right touch of sweetness, like fairy dust.
1/3 cup cornstarch, our thickening charm, a secret of the culinary coven.
1 cup flaked coconut, toasted to golden perfection, each flake a tiny sun-kissed treasure.
1 tsp coconut extract, the essence of tropical enchantment.
A 9-inch pie shell, our canvas, already baked and awaiting its masterpiece. (see enchanted crust recipe below)
The Process
1. Conjure the Cream Filling:
In a medium saucepan (your cauldron), whisk together the half-and-half, coconut milk, eggs, sugar, cornstarch, and a pinch of salt. Heat on low, stirring constantly. This is the slow part—don’t rush it. Let it thicken, velvety and rich.
2. Add the Coconut Magic:
Remove from heat and stir in ¾ cup toasted coconut flakes and the extract. Breathe deeply. This is the moment the spell sets.
3. Fill the Shell:
Pour the filling into your cooled, baked pie crust. Let it chill in the fridge 2–4 hours, until firm and set.
The Whipped Topper (Cloudwork)
1 pint heavy cream
¼–½ cup powdered sugar (to taste)
1 tsp coconut extract
Whip until soft peaks form. Taste. Adjust. This is your sweet signature. Spoon over the chilled pie and swirl with intention. Finish with a final sprinkle of the remaining toasted coconut.
Witch’s Tip: Crown your pie with a blessing. Speak aloud what this pie carries—joy, memory, offering, celebration.
The Enchanted Pie Crust
A Tale from the Kitchen of the Red Witch
No enchanted dessert is complete without a worthy vessel. This crust recipe holds decades of kitchen sorcery, passed down in flour-dusted whispers.
In a quaint, ivy-covered cottage deep in the whispering woods, there lived a Red Witch known far and wide for her extraordinary baking. Her most coveted secret? An enchanted pie crust recipe, a creation that turned any pie into a magical experience.
One crisp autumn morning, as leaves danced in the playful wind, a young apprentice approached the Red Witch’s door, seeking the secret of her legendary crust. With a warm smile and a twinkle in her eye, the Red Witch welcomed the eager learner into her cozy kitchen, where the air was always fragrant with spices and sweetness.
Gathering the Ingredients:
“We begin with 6 cups of flour,” the Red Witch explained, her hands skillfully moving as if performing a spell. “This will be the foundation of our enchanted crust.”
Next, she unveiled a large tub of Crisco, about 1 pound, explaining, “This is the secret to a flaky, tender crust.”
A pinch of salt, precisely 1 teaspoon, was added, “to balance the flavors,” she said with a wink.
The Magic Potion:
In a small, ancient-looking coffee cup, the Red Witch cracked an egg and added 2 tablespoons of white vinegar. “This is our magic potion and we beat them until mixed,” she said with a mischievous grin.
She then filled the cup with cold water, stirring the mixture with a wooden spoon that seemed as old as time itself.
Crafting the Spell:
The Red Witch returned to the flour and Crisco, combining them with deft fingers. “This part requires a gentle touch,” she instructed, “mix but don’t overwork it.”
With a flourish, she added the egg and vinegar mixture, transforming the dry ingredients into a pliable dough.
The Final Enchantment:
“Now, we must let the dough rest,” she said, wrapping it gently and placing it in the icebox. “Like all good magic, it needs time to develop.”
As the dough chilled, the Red Witch shared stories of pies past, each with its own enchanting tale. The young apprentice listened, enraptured by the magic that seemed to imbue every word and gesture.
Finally, the dough was ready, and the Red Witch demonstrated how to roll it out, her movements smooth and practiced. “There,” she said, as they placed the rolled dough into a pie tin, “ready for whatever filling your heart desires.”
The young apprentice left that day with more than just a recipe; they carried with them a piece of the Red Witch’s magic, a treasure to be used in many pies to come. And so, the enchanted pie crust became a legend, a testament to the magic that resides in the simplest of ingredients, when combined with care, love, and a touch of witchery.
Ingredients
6 cups flour
1 lb Crisco
1 tsp salt
1 egg
2 tbsp white vinegar
Cold water
Instructions
1. Mix the Dry: Combine flour, Crisco, and salt with hands or pastry cutter until it forms crumbly clumps.
2. Brew the Potion: In a mug, beat the egg and vinegar. Fill with cold water. Stir.
3. Combine: Slowly add the wet potion into the flour mix. Stir just until dough forms—do not overwork.
4. Chill: Wrap and refrigerate before rolling. Let it rest and gather power.
Roll out gently, whispering your intentions into the dough. Line a tin, prick the bottom, and bake until golden if using for cream pies.
Reflections from the Kitchen Witch
Baking is more than technique—it’s testament. A ritual of care, trust, and transformation. As your pie chills and sets, reflect:
What sweetness do I invite into my life?
What memory am I baking into this offering?
What tradition am I building with every stir, every sprinkle?
Bonus: Journal Prompts for the Culinary Grimoire
What’s your earliest magical kitchen memory?
How does coconut show up in your craft or heritage?
What ingredients always feel like home?
What part of the baking process feels most sacred to you?
Share Your Magic
This recipe is an open spell — meant to be shared, adapted, passed on.
Tell us:
Your favorite pie spell or seasonal twist
Your secret baking tip
What this recipe unlocked in your own kitchen practice
Let’s create a living legacy of kitchen witchery — one flaky crust at a time.
