What is Pumpkin Pie Spice? Recipe, Lore, and More.

With the season of fall baking upon us, I have one big question before I break out the stand mixer:

What is pumpin pie spice, anyway?

You've definitely tasted it, and you've more than likely seen it listed in the myriad of fall themed recipes that abound at this time of year. Pumpkin pie spice is a melange of spices that instantly evokes the taste of fall: it's the flavor equivalent of driving along a stretch of fiery fall foliage, apple picking at an orchard, the crisp air as you pull a fuzzy sweater over your head. 

In a technical sense, it is a mixture of warming spices, typically composed of cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, cloves, and allspice. 

The history of using spices to fancy up pumpkin is nothing new. It dates back to the times of the pilgrim. Pumpkin was a staple crop in the new world, and they were pretty much forced to develop a taste for it. Early on, pumpkin preparation often involved the whole gourd, stuffed with apples, spices, and sugar, and then baked whole. While the shell was eventually discarded, the spices remained a constant, giving a distinct flavor to an otherwise somewhat bland food.

So...why these particular spices? Well, spices were a big deal in the colonies: spice trading was a huge part of commerce in the middle ages and right on through colonial days. Spices were used not only as a taste enhancer, but as a preservative and for food safety--many spices have antimicrobial properties. Here's a brief review of the spices in question, created with much help from this list:

Allspice

Remember columbus's discovery of America, kind of by accident? That was a spice journey, and among the finds in the new world was Allspice. It kind of tastes like a mixture of cloves, cinnamon, and nutmeg.

Nutmeg

Nutmeg was long prized for its healthful qualities. It was also the subject of trickery--at seaports, peddlers would sell small wood carvings made to look like nutmeg pods for a dishonest profit. This is said to be why Connecticut is known as the "Nutmeg State".

Ginger

Hailing from Jamaica, ginger would have been known to settlers: it had come to Europe as early as 1585, and had long been used as part of gingerbread, and renowned for its curative and preservative properties. 

Cloves

Cloves were an early West Indies discovery: their smell is so intense they can be detected from a distance. They not only added a delicious scent to food, but could also be used as a natural moth repellent.

Cinnamon

Cinnamon was a valuable spice to colonists: not only did it enhance flavor and add a warming quality to food, but it had a variety of curative properties. Used as a digestive aid, anappetite stimulant, and even a cure for colds, cinnamon was a prized spice

How it came together

I have not been able to find specific mention of who first had the idea to put these spices together and call it "pumpkin pie spice". But if I may surmise...

It seems in my research that all of these spices were basically in the right place at the right time. They were all being used actively in baking by the time the first spice mill in the US was founded in Boston in 1821. Through this, pre-packaged spices (including mixes) were available as one of the first "convenience foods". (source

It seems to me that once the spices were being mass produced, the natural next step would be sales and marketing--and I have a hunch that this is where the "pumpkin pie spice" angle might have come into play. The first mention I was able to find of "pumpkin pie spice" listed in print was in this 1916 edition of Baker's Review, a trade publication.

Please, do correct me if I'm wrong here or if you're able to find anything more concrete!

Interestingly, while the components of pumpkin pie spice can be used for a number of other baking projects--spice cookies, cakes, sprinkled atop cappuccinos, or even sifted through a stencil for a cake or cookie decoration, its most famous use, very largely owing to the name, is in pumpkin pie.

With the classic flavor of pumpkin pie (thanks to the spice, of course) in mind, I'll finish with this poem, and then a recipe for pumpkin pie spice that you can make at home. 

What moistens the lip and what brightens the eye,
What calls back the past, like the rich Pumpkin pie?

- John Greenleaf Whittier

And OK, here's the recipe.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Pumpkin Spice Recipe 

  • 1/3 cup ground cinnamon
  • 1 1/2 tablespoons ground ginger
  • 1 tablespoon ground nutmeg
  • 1 1/2 teaspoons ground cloves
  • 1 1/2 teaspoons ground allspice

Mix the above together until completely combined, and place in an airtight jar. Use as garnish, as part of recipes calling for pumpkin pie spice, or to sprinkle atop lattes. 

The Long and Winding Nesselrode: Pecan Nesselrode Pie for Serious Eats

What makes a dessert "lost"?

Well, in the case of Nesselrode Pie, a chestnut cream pie, it could simply be that the ingredients are too hard to find.

But wait: this pie is worth seeking out. Like its namesake pudding, it is inspired by Count Karl Nesselrode, a Russian diplomat and noted gourmand of the 19th century. According to The Food Maven, this pie enjoyed a bit of a heyday in the 1950s as an indulgent after-dinner treat—there was even a product called Nesselro which made preparing the filling a snap.

However, as I found recently, it's just as delicious when substituted with much easier-to-obtain pecan puree and pieces used in the place of chestnut. While the pie itself is served chilled, don't worry about catching cold: this pie is so rich and decadent that it is bound to keep you warm during the dull days of January.

Read the full entry and find a recipe on Serious Eats!

Apple of My Pie: A Brief Look at the History of Apple Pie

Undoubtedly, one of the pleasures of autumn is that classic crusted piece of American cookery, the Apple Pie.

But how American, really, is Apple Pie?

Do you want the short answer or the long answer? How 'bout both?

The short answer: Apple pie is all-American, in the same way that the nation plays host to all sorts of ethnicities and influences: that is to say, a real melting pot.

...and that brings us to the long answer.

To really consider the humble pie's beginnings, we've got to go back--way back. As you learned so long ago on this very site when we discussed the history of Pumpkin pie, it's probably best to look at most American pies starting from the bottom up (that is to say: consider the crust). Per aforementioned writeup:

The origins of the pie stretch way back to ancient Egypt, where an early version of the pastry was made with honey and nuts in bread dough, in our opinion they came into their own during medieval times. Pies (charmingly called “coffins” then) became popular for being both a food and a vessel—easy to transport, hearty and filling. Of course, being baked without a pan at the time, the crust was...well, pretty crusty and inedible. But, it did protect the (usually savory) contents on jousts and voyages to and from the castle. Over the years, the piemaking method improved, and the size of a typical pie increased—they had to be pretty big after all to fit four and twenty blackbirds.

But there was also a pleasant and perhaps unexpected side effect to these advances in baking: the crust also started to taste good (or at least to merit attention). Per What's Cooking America:

It wasn't until the 16th century that cookbooks with pastry ingredients began appearing. Historian believe this was because cookbooks started appearing for the general household and not just for professional cooks.

From the same source, a recipe from 1545 seems to pay attention to details which are meant to yield a tasty crust:

To Make Short Paest for Tarte - Take fyne floure and a cursey of fayre water and a dysche of swete butter and a lyttel saffron, and the yolckes of two egges and make it thynne and as tender as ye maye.

...OK, so you probably see where I'm going with all of this crusty talk. Basically, while crust was initially seen as a vessel, a method of transport, it basically turned into "Hey, we might just have something here."

Which brings us to the big question: What about apples?

It was my belief that like Pumpkin pie, apple pie didn't make its sweet entry on to the pastry scene til Colonial times in America--after all, in the 1500s and early 1600s, pies in Europe were almost savory. But believe it or not, there is evidence of apple usage in pie form from as early as the mid-1500s (A Proper newe Booke of Cokerye, as discovered here)

To make pyes of grene apples - Take your apples and pare them cleane and core them as ye wyll a Quince, then make youre coffyn after this maner, take a lyttle fayre water and half a dyche of butter and a little Saffron, and sette all this upon a chafyngdyshe tyll it be hoate then temper your flower with this sayd licuor, and the whyte of two egges and also make yourcoffyn and ceason your apples with Sinemone,Gynger and Suger ynoughe. Then putte them into your coffin and laye halfe a dyshe of butter above them and so close your coffin, and so bake them.

Nonetheless, it seems that when the concept of Apple Pie made the leap stateside with the Pilgrims, it truly came into its own as a uniquely American treat. Not right away, of course--initially only crabapples could be found, but ultimately the timing of the advent of apples as a US crop seemed to time out nicely with sugar becoming more readily available, and as anyone knows, apple pie is much better when made with sugar. Pies in general were quite popular during the settlers' first lean years in the US, filled with produce from the New World -- this is the time during which pumpkin pie became a "thing", for instance. But the popularity of apple pies and puddings is not a big surprise--after all, apples keep well, and can be dried for use year-round, so it makes sense that they would become a go-to item in the Colonial kitchen.

What's on top?

 So, there is some argument about how to best enjoy apple pie (and we won't even go into family arguments about the pie recipe itself). Double or lattice crust, crumb or streusel topping? A la mode, or with a slice of Sharp cheddar?

Not that you asked, but here's my stance.

While double crust varieties are undoubtedly the oldest and most traditional way of preparing apple pie, I'd like to humbly make a case for crumb. I've always called this variation "Dutch Apple Pie", although it seems that technically "Dutch Apple Pie" tends to refer to copious amounts of cinnamon in the recipe as opposed to the crumb topping. For the purposes of this entry, though--let it be known I am talking about the crumb-topped version, which is often seen in Pennsylvania Dutch country. 

It's hard to understand why anyone who has ever had a crumb-topped apple pie would ever go back to double crust. It's got a delectable crunch! The top crust isn't too hard, and doesn't crack away unevenly with the filling! It's sweet, salty, rich in flavor, and delicious! Please, tell me why I'm wrong about this--I dare you.

In my mind, the only reason you'd ever choose double crust over crumb or streusel topping is if you're eating your pie New England style--with a slice of sharp cheddar cheese. That tradition is interesting--as I discovered on Food Timeline,

The practice of combining cheese, fruit, and nuts dates back to ancient times. These were often served at the end of a meal because they were thought to aid in digestion. From the earliest days through the Renaissance, the partaking of these foods was generally considered a priviledge of the wealthy. This practice was continued by wealthy dinners composed of many courses up until the 19th century. Apples and cheesemaking were introduced to the New World by European settlers. These people also brought with them their recipes and love for certain combinations. This explains the popular tradition of apple pie and cheddar cheese in our country.

 

Of course, I'd be remiss at this point to not touch upon what is undoubtedly the most popular accompaniment for apple pie--ice cream. Serving pie "A la mode", or  "in the current style or fashion", means that you're serving it (usually warm) with a big ol' scoop of ice cream on the side. Where does the term come from? Can't say whether it's true or not, but there is a rather sweet story attached to it, via a reprint from Sealtest Magazine, which I discovered via Barry Popik:

We have it that the late Professor Charles Watson Townsend, who lived alone in a Main Street apartment during his later years and dined regularly at the Hotel Cambridge, now known as the Cambridge Hotel, was wholly responsible for the blessed business. 

One day in the mid 90’s, Professor Townsend was seated for dinner at a table when the late Mrs. Berry Hall observed that he was eating ice cream with his apple pie. Just like that she named it “Pie a la Mode”, and we often wondered why, and thereby brought enduring fame to Professor Townsend and the Hotel Cambridge. 

Shortly thereafter the Professor visited New York City, taking with him a yen for his favorite dessert new name and all. At the fashionable Delmonico’s he nonchalantly ordered Pie a la Mode and when the waiter stated that he never heard of such a thing the Professor expressed a great astonishment. 

“Do you mean to tell me that so famous an eating place as Delmonico’s has never heard of Pie a la Mode, when the Hotel Cambridge, up in the village of Cambridge, NY serves it every day? Call the manager at once, I demand as good service here as I get in Cambridge.” 

But no matter whose story you believe, one thing is for sure: apple pie served with ice cream is delicious. Especially when it's crumb-topped pie.

No doubt about it: Apple pie certainly serves up a thought-provoking slice of American history. But as for the final word? I believe that this quote I found on Food Timeline seems to sum it up nicely:

"When you say that something is "as American as apple pie," what you're really saying is that the item came to this country from elsewhere and was transformed into a distinctly American experience." --As American as Apple Pie, John Lehndorff, American Pie Council.

Pie Story: An Epic Journey to find the Nesselrode Pie in Canarsie, Brooklyn

Teena's Cake Fair Pies
Cakespy note: this picture is not Nesselrode Pie. More on that later.

It all began innocently enough: with a book. This time, it was in Barnes & Noble, where amongst the "Northwest" section of cookbooks, there was, inexplicably, a cookbook of classic New York City foods. Curious about the anomaly, we picked it up and looked through the table of contents for the desserts. The usual suspects were present--rice pudding, crumb cake...and nesselrode pie.

We'd never heard of Nesselrode Pie.

According to the author, Arthur Schwartz, this pie is extinct, though it still lives on in the memories of older New Yorkers. And it seems so--as an excellent New York Times article by Bernard Gwertzman confirmed in 2004, "Like baked Alaska and Charlotte Russe, it seemed to have gone to the equivalent of food heaven." In fact, at the time of the article, the pie was only available at one New York City bakery--Teena's Cake Fair of Canarsie, Brooklyn.

So what is this Nesselrode pie? Going back to our guy Schwartz,

 

Nesselrode is named after one Count Nesselrode, as are a number of dishes that
are made with chestnuts or chestnut puree.


The pie...however, was popularized by Hortense Spier, who started her business not as a pie bakery but as a brownstone restaurant on 94th St. between Columbus Ave. and Central Park West. The restaurant closed before World War II and Mrs. Spier baked her specialty pies for other restaurants after that. Besides the nesselrode, there was a lemon meringue, a banana cream, and a coconut custard. By the mid 1950s, these were, indeed, the standard pies served in New York's seafood restaurants and steakhouses. When Mrs. Spierr died, her daughter, Ruth, and daughter-in-law, Mildred, continued the business.

Nesselrode pie is really a classic Bavarian cream -- in a pie shell, of course -- which is to say a custard base into which gelatin is blended for stability and egg whites are folded for added volume and lightness. The flavoring ought to be candied chestnuts and rum, but chestnuts haven't been a major part of the pie for a long time. The following recipe uses a product called Raffetto's "Nesselro" fruits, which does indeed contain a trace of chestnut, though the first ingredient listed is, of all things, cauliflower, which apparently has a similar texture to chestnuts when candied. The remaining ingredients are candied fruits. You can use a mix of candied fruit -- tutti
fruiti -- if you cannot find the Raffetto product.

For those who are intrigued, or just cauliflower enthusiasts, if interested in buying your own "Nesselro", it is manufactured and marketed by Romanoff International, Inc., the same people who market the caviar found in suparmarkets. It is distributed through Haddon House.

 

Teena's Cake FairJessie 040
But really, we're just telling you this to explain why, at 6 a.m. this morning, our Head Spy Jessie emerged from the JFK terminal after a red-eye flight to head not to a hotel, not to a friend's home, but to Canarsie, Brooklyn, in search of the coveted Nesselrode Pie. After two train transfers, a bus ride, and a 1.5 mile walk with luggage in hand, she found herself on the stoop of Teena's Cake Fair, shortly after they opened for the day, eager to see this mythic baked good.

But like many epic tales, the story's ending was to be bittersweet. "We don't regularly carry that pie in the summer," the employee explained, "too hot. We usually just have it for the holidays". Of course, this makes sense. While yes, it's true, a request could have been put in ahead of time and saved our spy a trip, we really just wanted the satisfaction of seeing it in the bakery case; alas, that joy was not to be found this time. And so, our heroine Spy humbly ordered a black and white cookie, which at 7 a.m. was still warm and freshly frosted--and upon the first perfect bite (half chocolate, half vanilla frosting), reflected that maybe it's just as well that there was no Nesselrode pie--for isn't the journey half the fun?

Teena's Cake Fair is located at 1568 Ralph Ave., Canarsie, Brooklyn, (718) 763-9100; the closest Subway stop is the end of the line on the L Train. Nesselrode Pie is only available around the holidays.
 
For those interested in making a Nesselrode Pie, the recipe can be found at Arthur Schwartz's website, thefoodmaven.com; there is also a link to buy his book on the site!