Nana’s Impossible Pie

I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again - there’s nothing quite like a well-named dessert.

Gets me every time.

Mystery, intrigue, suspense and desire! It’s all there, priming the mouth with its invisible marketing, even before you’ve taken that first bite. Then the flavour kicks in ­- bam! If you didn’t get ‘em first round, your sure to knock ‘em dead in the second. It’s tag teaming really, dessert-style.

Funnily enough, the most impressive desserts I’ve encountered over the years, the ones with little to no need for fancy frills or Gen X ribbons, are those with the greatest names. Perhaps it’s another chicken and the egg scenario or maybe Baker Creator just got it - if he thought to put cheese and cinnamon together, why wouldn’t his talent for innovation extend outside the cake box?

So undeniably, when the chance to meet one Nana’s Impossible Pie came up, I sure as hell couldn’t pass it by…

I’d heard quite a bit about this dessert before I met it personally - a friend of mine, Steve, had grown up eating it, first made by grandma, then by mum, but as he’d been overseas traveling, he’d not had it for more than 3 years. It seemed to me the memory was about more than just the pie, as most food is - in this case, it was a piece of home, warm and comforting. The name made me think of my own Nana too - my brother and I spent our childhood holidays on her and Pop’s farm in the north of New South Wales; we were close. But while both my grandparents have since passed away, my memories of them today are as distinct and reassuring as the taste of her jam drops or the smell of her chocolate cake fresh from the oven.  

I was destined to love Nana’s Impossible Pie from the get-go.

From what I could gather from Steve, this was a seriously straight-forward pie to prepare - throw everything in one bowl, mix, bake in the oven and Bob’s your uncle: Nana’s Impossible Pie. I must have been a little thrown off guard by the name, judging by my reaction. “Pie, one bowl, huh? Help!” my eyes pleaded. But when I saw the recipe and Steve broke it down in layered detail, it became more clear - somewhat like a custard, the homogenous mix hardens on the base upon cooking, while the coconut drifts to the top leaving the center wobbly and buoyant - a pie indeed.

As I ate the dessert, still bubbling and soft, I was reminded again of my grandmother, even though she’d never made anything like it. Perhaps it was soothing like her gaze or layered like her intelligence. But really, I think, it was just the memory of how good a dessert can taste when it is made at home and by someone you love…

Nana’s Impossible Pie

½ cup plain flour
1 cup caster sugar
2 cups milk
50g butter, melted
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
4 eggs, lightly beaten
1 cup shredded coconut

Preheat oven to 175°C. Grease a 25cm round casserole or baking dish. In a medium bowl, sift over flour and sugar. Add the butter then the milk, vanilla and eggs, mixing until well combined. Add the coconut and stir to combine. Pour the mixture into the dish and bake for 45 minutes - 1 hour, depending on the size of your dish. Serve immediately if you like it gooey and soft, or wait till it has cooled for a more flan-style dessert.

Tagged as: Coconut, Custard, Grandparents, Old recipes, Pies