Today, with a winter storm in the forecast, I decided to make a grasshopper ice cream pie. Why not start from scratch with something unapologetically over-the-top? This isn’t just any dessert; it’s a nostalgic nod to a winter memory that’s been frozen in time since 1982—a snowstorm that transformed Greenville, Illinois into a frosty fairytale.
That snowstorm dumped 24 inches of powdery magic, halting schools for a month but leaving parents no choice but to return to work. In their absence, we kids transformed the local pond behind the junior high into a wintry paradise. Half of it became a hockey rink, the other half a figure skating arena. The slopes nearby became sledding trails, and at the heart of it all, a campfire burned. It was pure chaos, but the best kind—the kind only a snowstorm can conjure.
When I wasn’t on the ice, I was in the kitchen, driven by curiosity and the odd assortment of ingredients in our cabinets. That’s when I discovered crème de menthe and crème de cacao. With Betty Crocker as my guide, I baked my first grasshopper pie. Looking back, it was a boozy experiment that likely left the adults raising their eyebrows.
Fast forward to today. This pie is my way of revisiting that childhood memory—this time, with a touch more finesse (and less eyebrow-raising alcohol content). It begins with a homemade chocolate crust, repurposed from a chocolate crinkle recipe. The filling is a luscious blend of fresh cream, egg yolks, and just the right amount of minty sweetness. But what really makes this pie sing is its unapologetic flair: snowflake cookies, mint whipped cream, and a cascade of chocolate curls.
And wouldn’t you know it, the weather decided to play along. With another storm on its way, the timing couldn’t be better to indulge in something this indulgent. There’s something about the quiet power of a snowstorm that invites a sense of wonder—and a reason to embrace the “extra” moments.
Here’s the thing: I’ve spent a lifetime wrestling with being “too much.” Too loud. Too ambitious. Too… extra. But I’ve come to embrace the truth: the right people will love the “too much” in you, just as they’ll savor the “too much” in this pie. Because, let’s face it, extra is what makes life delicious.
So here it is, my Grasshopper Ice Cream Pie—a tribute to the snowstorm that turned a pond into a playground, a kitchen experiment into a legacy, and a girl who was “too much” into exactly who she needed to be.
But enough about me—what about you? What flavors or traditions take you back to a snowstorm, a holiday, or just a moment of pure chaos and joy? Have you ever embraced being “too much” in the kitchen or in life? I’d love to hear your stories, memories, or even your favorite winter comfort foods. Let’s create a little community of over-the-top moments together. Tell me—how do you make your own storms feel magical?
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