Southern Sweet Potato Pie

Sixty-seven years old. January nineteenth. I woke at five as usual and made coffee and sat with Frost by the woodstove and thought: sixty-seven. It is not a significant number. It does not divide into anything useful. It is not the age at which my father died, which was seventy-three, and which I think about more than I have ever admitted. Sixty-seven is simply what I am now, which is what I was before with one more year of the farmhouse and the maples and Helen and the grandchildren attached to it. I will take this.

Helen made the maple cream pie. She has made it for my birthday since 1981, which means I have had thirty-nine maple cream pies for my birthday and I have never once been tired of maple cream pie, and I do not expect to start being tired of it now. The pie this year was particularly good — the syrup was from last spring's early batch, lighter and more floral than the later-season syrup, and the cream from the Charlotte dairy at full richness. Helen had it on the table when David and Karen arrived with the children at two o'clock, and when Teddy saw it he said "excellent" in a tone of voice that was unmistakably ten years old and unmistakably Bergstrom.

Sarah and Tom could not make the drive — January roads, Lucy at three still getting over a cold. Sarah called at noon, sang the birthday song in the off-key way she has always sung it, and Ben sang along and Lucy said "happy birthday Grampy" in her serious manner and then reported that she was feeling better and that her nose had stopped running. I said I was glad to hear it. She said she was glad too. This is how three-year-olds communicate good news: the information, simply. No editorializing. This is Hemingway's method. Lucy arrived at it without reading Hemingway, which means she came by it honestly.

Sixty-seven. The heart is good. The leg aches. The mind is sharp. The pie was excellent. I am still here. The maples are still here. Helen is still here. Everything is in order.

Helen’s maple cream pie is hers alone, and I wouldn’t dare try to recreate it here — some recipes belong entirely to the person who makes them. But the spirit of it, that creamy, spiced, deeply satisfying pie that tells you someone thought about you before breakfast, lives in this Southern Sweet Potato Pie. It has the same silky richness, the same custard warmth, the same quality of tasting like the best version of a familiar thing. If you’re the one in your house who makes the birthday pie, this is a recipe worth knowing by heart.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 55 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 15 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 9-inch unbaked pie shell
2 cups mashed sweet potatoes (about 2 large sweet potatoes, roasted and peeled)
1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup light brown sugar, packed
2 large eggs, beaten
1/2 cup heavy cream
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon salt

Instructions

Roast the sweet potatoes. Preheat oven to 400°F. Pierce sweet potatoes several times with a fork and roast directly on the oven rack for 45–55 minutes, until completely tender. Let cool, then peel and measure out 2 cups of mashed flesh.
Reduce oven temperature. Lower oven to 350°F. Fit the unbaked pie shell into a 9-inch pie dish and crimp the edges. Set aside.
Make the filling. In a large bowl, beat the softened butter with the granulated sugar and brown sugar until combined. Add the mashed sweet potato and mix until smooth.
Add wet ingredients. Mix in the beaten eggs, heavy cream, and vanilla extract until fully incorporated and the filling is silky.
Season the filling. Stir in the cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, and salt. Taste and adjust spices as desired.
Fill and bake. Pour the filling into the prepared pie shell, smoothing the top with a spatula. Bake at 350°F for 50–55 minutes, until the filling is set at the edges with a slight jiggle at the center.
Cool completely. Transfer the pie to a wire rack and allow to cool for at least 2 hours before slicing. The filling will firm up fully as it cools. Serve at room temperature or lightly chilled, with whipped cream if desired.

Nutrition (per serving)

Southern Sweet Potato Pie — The Birthday Pie That Never Gets Old