Baileys S’mores Pie

Posted on Monday, 25th February 2013 by Grace Massa Langlois

My husband and I couldn’t be more different, city girl meets small town boy. When we decided to have our home custom built there wasn’t much we agreed upon but there was one thing neither of us could be without, a fire pit. Throughout the summer it was a ritual, after the sun went down Moe would head back to the pit and get the fire started and the kids and I would gather up the fixings, graham crackers, chocolate and marshmallows, for our favourite summer-time treat, S’mores. The neighbours would stop by and we would spend hours by the crackling fire singing and, telling ghost stories.

Summer may be months away but I thought I would make a grown up version of the campfire treat for the kids and their friends, Baileys S’mores Pie. I can’t help but think where did the time go? I can’t believe we’ve been in the house almost fifteen years; it seems like only yesterday we were disagreeing about almost everything. Moe always pretended to put up a fight but in the end he always let me get my own way.

When we first moved to the outskirts of the city our three-street neighbourhood was the closest you could get to the country without living in the country. Open fields surrounded our little neighbourhood. The main street in the village was lined with specialty shops and teahouses. Unfortunately the open fields and charming village have been replaced with high-rises, big box stores and, restaurants.

One of the things we argued about most was location, Moe wanted to live in the country, I wanted to live in the city and my parents wanted us to move in next door. Thankfully, Moe and I compromised because moving this close to the country afforded us a larger piece of property and although everything has changed around us when the kids and I are enjoying time in our backyard it’s like nothing’s changed. And as far as my parents go, time hasn’t changed my mother’s feelings on the subject; she’s still complaining that we moved all the way across town.

Moe, the skilled outdoorsman, was convinced that you needed a perfectly roasted marshmallow to make the best s’mores (I’m sure we all agree because it’s the roasted marshmallow flavour that makes the s’mores so special). And he told us, repeatedly, that he was a marshmallow-roasting expert and that his technique was the best technique. What’s the best marshmallow roasting technique according to Moe?

Place the marshmallow on the end of the stick but do not, I repeat, do not pierce it all the way through (does it really matter?). Sit back in your chair and with beer in one hand and stick in the other, position the marshmallow, not over the flame, not in the flame, just beside the flame. To roast the marshmallow, keep turning the stick until it’s golden all over and the inside is gooey. And the most important rule, do not let the marshmallow catch a flame! (Burnt taste – not so special.)

This S’mores Pie incorporates all the flavours and textures reminiscent of our favourite summer-time treat with a twist. I lined the pie with a simple graham cracker crust lightly sweetened with confectioners’ sugar. When preparing a pie crust like this one where you’re in essence creating a shell because you’re covering the base and sides it’s better to bake the crust so that it’s sturdier.

Baking the crust also gives the shell a crispier texture and makes it tastier. It’s important to remove the shell from the oven just as it turns a deep golden brown colour. Baking too long will give the crust a burnt taste (again, not so special).

I filled the pie with a rich, thick and creamy chocolate ganache, which is flavoured with vanilla bean and Baileys. The Baileys gives the bittersweet chocolate ganache a distinct taste making it that much more indulgent. For the grand finale, the pièce de résistance - thick swirls of toasted marshmallow meringue.

No campfire, not to worry, this S’mores Pie incorporates all the traditional elements of the classic S’mores.

Did I mention that the pie didn’t last long? Matt had plate in hand before I’d finished spooning the meringue over top. And when I had to break the news that he had to wait until Liana came home from work to take the images, he wasn’t a happy camper. In this case the sentiment “anticipation makes the heart grow fonder” couldn’t be truer.