When I made this Chocolate Mousse Chiffon Pie, my brother asked me to define what makes a pie classifiable as “chiffon.” I gave some weak answer detailing all of the steps that I took in order to produce said pie. He then ate a piece and described its deliciousness in terms like, “This pie is extra chiffony,” and, “What really makes this pie stand out is the subtle hint of chiffon…”

*Sigh*

I’ve since done some internet research and found that my original, long-winded explanation was basically correct. The thing about chiffon pies is that, by definition, they have many steps. And they are very, very chiffony.

TermWiki: Chiffon pie is created by starting with a custard base, and adding egg whites and gelatin to produce a light, fluffy texture.

American Heritage Dictionary: n.

1. A fabric of sheer silk or rayon.
2. Ornamental accessories, such as ribbons or laces, for women’s clothing.

adj.

1. Of, relating to, or resembling the fabric chiffon.
2. Made light and fluffy by the addition of beaten egg whites or gelatin: a lemon chiffon pie.

To make Chocolate Mousse Chiffon Pie, you need all of these things.

You also need a graham cracker crust to put them in, obviously.

Oh wait, you’re also going to have to make some coffee…as brewed coffee is one of the ingredients too…I told you this wasn’t going to be easy. Don’t come home from work and think you’ll get this puppy done in time to eat after dinner. No way, no how.

Phase one: coffee, chocolate, and butter in a saucepan.

After twiddling your thumbs and waiting for the chocolate to cool down, you can whisk in some egg yolks and vanilla. But then you should actually find something productive to do with your time, because you’re going to have to refrigerate it for a while, and then add gelatin heated with more coffee…and then let it cool again…yada yada yada.

The fun isn’t over yet. It’s time to beat the egg whites into a froth, and give thanks for your KitchenAid.

Gently fold the egg whites into the chocolate, reuniting them with their long-lost yolks.

Alas; there is no rest for the weary. Now you must wash your mixer’s bowl and beaters, go out to the barn and milk your cow, and whip some cream. Then, fold THAT into the filling.

The finished product: decadent, delicious, and decidedly chiffon in nature. My only concern was that it had some small lumps-it was more annoying visually than when actually eating it. If anyone has a tip for me on avoiding lumps in pies like this, I’d love to hear it!

So, in conclusion, the next time you have five or six hours to kill, make this pie for yourself!

For all my complaining-it was totally worth it.