Vegan Thanksgiving Recipes -- The Sweet Potato Pie That Made Mama Say “Better”

Thanksgiving happened and it was everything and also not enough and also too much and also exactly right, which is how every Thanksgiving goes when you're a Mitchell and the table is groaning and the people are loud and the food is the language you speak when English fails.

Mama came. Kevin drove down from Clarksville with Crystal and little Kaden (their first — born this year, I think? No — Kevin's first son Kaden is 24 in 2046, born 2022. Kevin doesn't have kids yet in 2019. He came with Crystal, no kids yet). Kevin came with Crystal. They were polite with each other in the way that couples are polite when they're performing togetherness for an audience. I saw the gaps. I didn't say anything. You don't confront a Mitchell man at Thanksgiving. You feed him and you watch and you wait.

The turkey was PERFECT. Golden, juicy, the brine did its work. The cornbread dressing was Earline's — fragrant with sage and celery and onion, the recipe that has been on Mitchell Thanksgiving tables since before I was born, since before Mama was born, since Earline stood in a kitchen in rural Alabama and decided that cornbread and turkey drippings and herbs could be alchemy. The green bean casserole was consumed in six minutes. The cranberry cylinder held its shape. All was right with the world.

The sweet potato pie. Mama tasted it. She chewed slowly. She looked at me. She said: "Who made this?" I said: "I did. Terrence's recipe." She chewed more. Then: "Better." BETTER. Not "almost." Not "getting there." BETTER. The word has changed. The pie has improved — or maybe I've improved the pie, maybe my hands know something his don't, maybe the recipe needed a Mitchell kitchen to reach its potential. Mama said "better" and that is the highest praise a Lorraine Mitchell pie evaluation has ever delivered to a non-Mitchell recipe. I texted Terrence: "Mama said BETTER." He texted back: "Tell her I said thank you and I'm never making it again because you've surpassed me." I didn't tell Mama that. Some victories are best savored privately.

After dinner, after the dishes (Kevin washed, Crystal dried, the performance of domesticity continuing), after the pie, after Jayden fell asleep on the couch in a food coma, after Chloe read in the corner with a piece of pecan pie balanced on her knee — after all of it, Mama and I sat at the table with coffee. She said: "Next year there'll be a baby at this table." I said: "Yeah." She said: "We'll need a high chair." I said: "I still have Jayden's." She said: "Good. Don't buy anything new. Babies don't know the difference." Babies don't know the difference. But mothers do. Mothers know that a third baby in a hand-me-down high chair at a Thanksgiving table is not less than a first baby in a new one. It's the same. It's the same love. It's the same table. It's the same cornbread. The cornbread doesn't change. We do.

Mama said “better,” and I’ve been turning that word over in my hands ever since—because the truth is, the version I made this year was the closest I’ve come to a sweet potato pie that belongs entirely to me, not just to someone else’s recipe I’ve been borrowing. I’ve been playing with a plant-based version too, one that swaps the dairy without losing any of that dense, spiced, soul-warming depth, because next year there’s going to be a baby at the table, and I want every person at that table—whatever they eat, however they show up—to have a piece of something that feels like home. This is the recipe I’m building toward: vegan, unfussy, and built for a loud Mitchell Thanksgiving.

Vegan Sweet Potato Pie

Prep Time: 25 min | Cook Time: 55 min | Total Time: 1 hr 20 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

• 1 unbaked 9-inch vegan pie crust (store-bought or homemade)
• 2 cups mashed sweet potatoes (about 2 large, roasted and peeled)
• 3/4 cup full-fat coconut milk, well shaken
• 1/2 cup packed light brown sugar
• 1/4 cup pure maple syrup
• 3 tablespoons cornstarch
• 2 tablespoons vegan butter, melted
• 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
• 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
• 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
• 1/4 teaspoon ground allspice
• 1/4 teaspoon fine salt

Instructions

1. Roast the sweet potatoes. Preheat oven to 400°F. Pierce sweet potatoes several times with a fork, place on a foil-lined baking sheet, and roast 45–50 minutes until completely tender. Let cool, then peel and mash until very smooth. Measure out 2 cups.
2. Reduce oven temperature. Lower the oven to 350°F. Place your unbaked pie crust in a 9-inch pie dish and crimp the edges. Set aside.
3. Make the filling. In a blender or large bowl, combine the mashed sweet potatoes, coconut milk, brown sugar, maple syrup, cornstarch, melted vegan butter, and vanilla extract. Blend or beat with a hand mixer until completely smooth and no lumps remain.
4. Add the spices. Add the cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, allspice, and salt. Mix again until fully incorporated. Taste and adjust spices to your preference—this is your pie, make it yours.
5. Fill and bake. Pour the filling into the prepared crust, smoothing the top with a spatula. Bake at 350°F for 50–55 minutes, until the edges are set and the center has just a slight jiggle when gently shaken.
6. Cool completely. Remove from the oven and let the pie cool on a wire rack for at least 2 hours before slicing. The filling will firm up as it cools. Do not rush this step—a warm sweet potato pie will not hold its slice.
7. Serve. Slice and serve at room temperature or slightly chilled, with coconut whipped cream if desired. Store leftovers covered in the refrigerator for up to 4 days.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 310 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 13g | Carbs: 46g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 190mg