A custard pie is not Chess Pie. Neither is a buttermilk pie. Though if you examine most Chess Pie recipes you’ll see cream and egg in roughly the standard ratio of custard – one or two eggs per cup of fatty liquid. My Rhubarb Chess Pie follows that ratio exactly. Does that make it a custard pie? Well, that depends on where you live. A lot of Northerners would call most any pie with that sort of ratio a custard pie. Add apple and they might call it Marlborough Pie. In the south (with or without apple), they’d probably call this pie Chess Pie.
In my opinion, these Southerners would only be partially correct.
There are plenty of other names for these very basic pies. In the mid-west, some call this pie Desperation Pie because you can make it even when you desperately need to restock the pantry. Here in the west, there’s a similar pie called Crack Pie, but that’s a terrible name. I like the Southern version (and name) best.
Rhubarb Chess Pie
There’s more to Chess Pie than a custardy ratio of egg to cream. Remarkable in its simplicity and timeless in its appeal a Southern Chess Pie is not unlike a Northern custard pie because at its heart it contains four basic ingredients that most cooks always have on hand: flour, butter, sugar, and eggs. Of course, you can get fancy and add fruit (i.e. Rhubarb Chess Pie), cream, cocoa powder, or a sprinkling of nutmeg or cinnamon. However, it isn’t these optional additions that separate Chess Pie from a standard custard pie. The difference comes when Southern cooks add a tablespoon or two of gritty cornmeal and a nearly undetectable sour tang (which usually comes by stirring in some vinegar).
There’s one more step that truly separates Southern Chess Pie from its cousins. It’s also (who really knows?) may be (could be) the reason behind the name. Chess Pie is chilled in the ice ches’ after baking. Which doesn’t mean it’s eaten cold. No self-respecting Southerner I’ve heard of would ever eat it cold, but once it’s been baked, you allow it to cool on a rack and then refrigerate it for a few hours. At serving time the pie sits at room temperature 15 or 20 minutes before slicing. It’s a texture thing. Try it and see. GREG
Rhubarb Chess Pie
My grandmother had an ice chest. All I can say is thank heavens for modern refrigerators. Your pie looks fantastic.
Really, what’s in a name? No matter what you call this, I bet it’s fantastic.
Dang.…here you go again teasing me with ingredients that aren’t quite available in season here yet. LOVE rhubarb, AND what you’ve done with it here. Will definitely be making this one when I can finally get my hands on some of those ruby red stalks.
Mmmmm…I’m a sucker for rhubarb desserts, and this looks like one outstanding pie no matter what you call it 🙂
I always learn so much in your posts! Chess pie…custard pie…they’re all good! I love this rhubarb version Greg!
I always heard it was the waitress telling the customer about the pie they had in the case. Customer wanted to know what kind of pie–she said, “Jes’ pie.” Add mid-US accent.
It’s one of those things that may never be “known”. GREG
Love the ice ches’ tidbit! Never thought that’s how the pie might have gotten its name (and I’ve always wondered). Anyway, rhubarb? Great idea! I don’t care what this is called, I call it delish. Thanks!
Diet Schmiet!
i’m making this pie tonight!
This is when I realize I know so little about my adopted country. That’s what I like about your blog, I always learn something new. Now if I only could remember it.
Well Greg… Where I come from they just call that “Good Pie.” And I would love a slice!
wonderful recipe! Thanks for sharing 🙂
Well, there you have it! I always wondered where the name Chess Pie came from. Lovely pie, Greg 🙂
Well. It’s one of those “who knows” stories. It may not be true. GREG
That’s a pretty pie. I want to buy some rhubarb but it’s so expensive. I might have to splurge.