Since the Worldwide Vegan Bake Sale is this week — and not one of the four sites I contacted in the Princeton area would give me space to set up a table — I decided to post a brand new, never before seen, Elizabeth-original recipe in honor of the WWVBS. Of course, the question was, “Do I make a new recipe from scratch or do I veganize an old favorite?”

One of the most consistently popular, linked to, and visited pages on this site is my page about “Amish” Friendship Bread, which I pretty much pointed out is not actually Amish and the “friendship” part is debatable. With several cups of milk and three eggs in the mix, it’s pretty animal unfriendly, to start. And then there’s the issue of human friendships. I mean, imagine being saddled with a bag of goop you have to pay attention to for ten days, implored by instructions not to throw it out, freeze it, waste it, or use it as a top hat. I’m not necessarily sure I’m going to be your friend any more after you abandon your “Amish” baby on my stoop, kiddo — especially not one that results in a several-hundred-calorie-per-slice diet killer. Then, assuming I don’t bin the starter, I have to pass it off onto my friends — and how friendly they’ll be after I dump it (metaphorically speaking) in their laps is a question for the ages. Hell, the only thing friendly about this bread is the starter itself, which will take your neglect and abuse with gentle good humor and still produce that fattening cinnamon pound cake that’s about as Amish as an electric fireplace.

But what if, and I know this is just crazy talk but, what if I told you I figured out a way to make a version of this that was friendly to your co-workers, animals, and your waistline. What then?

Wonder no more, my dears, as I present to you Friendly Vegan Bread. It’s Amish Friendship Bread with all the usual substitutions — and reduced in size to make exactly one loaf plus a cup of starter!

“Devil magic!” I hear you cry, but worry not, there is nothing devilish about this bread!

There were, obviously, some considerable obstacles. The first, in my mind at least because it’s where my mind naturally goes first, was the pudding. I usually use Jell-O brand vanilla instant pudding (in fact, some versions of the recipe even specify the Jell-o brand) but is that vegan? I googled, but my google-fu failed me, turning up only a PETA website that listed Jell-O instant pudding in vanilla and pistachio as animal-friendly. However, several other items on their grossly out of date (read Web 1.0…or earlier. Nearly BBS-era!) site have since changed their formulas to use whey, gelatin, or other fun products whose origins you really don’t want to know.

Next, I decided to put that awesome tool Twitter to some use and send a tweet to the only person I could think of who’d know the answer. Except she didn’t.

So I bought the pudding anyway. And checked each ingredient in Wikipedia. It was solid.

I debated for a while about the virtues of almond milk for baking verses the virtuous nature of light soy milk as my milk substitute — a decision that was otherwise pretty straight forward — and went with the almond milk mostly for the taste and texture. I did start a soy starter as well, but it immediately separated into a clear, oil-like fluid and a dense, pudding layer, so I decided to stick with the almond milk.

There was also some silent, mental debate about how to pull three eggs out of a recipe without totally fucking it up, especially since I was already having the oil and throwing in applesauce, which ruled out my first instinct: turn this thing into banana bread! After some serious rumination on the subject and toying with the idea of either buying scary-as-hell Ener-G powdered egg substitute or maybe forgoing the whole “waist-friendly” angle and using ground flax seeds, I settled on soy yogurt, and that was that. I imagine some canned pumpkin, along with a bit of ground nutmeg and ginger, could nicely substitute for the egg and turn this into a very nice fall-themed dessert, but I was worried about the density. As the final recipe stands, it comes out about the same texture and density as a pound cake — anything heavier might upset the balance into brick territory.

I also, for health’s sake, pondered taking out the final sugar addition and subbing agave nectar — which I love and cannot live without — but knew that’d necessitate a reduction in the already halved oil — great for the waistline, but I wasn’t so sure about the texture and density. For next time, to be sure.

One thing I will say for the final recipe: the flavor was exactly the way I remember it being, and the texture was very nice indeed — moister than the original, I’d say.

Now, this recipe is a work in progress — I might tweak it a bit to help reduce the cooking time (which was substantially increased) — without decreasing the temperature, which I had to do, as my first experiment came out good, but burnt. Also, most milk substitutes are a bit denser than cow’s milk, so I’m going to propose light soy milk rather than the full-fat almond milk, though I did notice a distinctive soy milk taste when I used plain soy instead of vanilla almond milk. If you find a tweak to the recipe that makes it even better, please let me know!

As with the usual Amish Friendship Bread, if you want to pass this along — start a baking chain letter of vegan-friendly bread would be kind of revolutionary and in the spirit of the Worldwide Vegan Bake Sale — add a cup each of almond milk, sugar, and flour on Day 4, Day 7, and Day 10. If you’re selfish (or considerate of your non-baking friends), just follow the single recipe below, which makes enough for one loaf and a single one-cup starter for your next loaf. In ten days.

Friendly Vegan Bread

For the Starter
• 1 c. flour
• 1 c. sugar
• 1 c. almond milk (or your favorite non-dairy milk
• 1/4 oz (2 1/2 tsp) active yeast (not rapid-rise).

Day One: Mix ingredients together in a plastic bowl or baggie until just moistened (do not over mix). Cover.

Day Two: Burp the bowl/bag. Mix. Re-cover.

Day Three: Burp the bowl/bag. Mix. Re-cover.

Day Four: Burp the bowl/bag. Mix. Re-cover.

Day Five: Add to the bowl/bag:

• 1/4 c. flour
• 1/4 c. sugar
• 1/4 c. almond milk

Mix until moist and re-cover.

Day Six: Burp the bowl/bag. Mix. Re-cover.

Day Seven: Burp the bowl/bag. Mix. Re-cover.

Day Eight: Burp the bowl/bag. Mix. Re-cover.

Day Nine: Burp the bowl/bag. Mix. Re-cover.

Day Ten: BAKING DAY!

Bread Ingredients
• 1/2 c. canola oil
• 1/2 c. applesauce (natural, no-sugar added)
• 1 c. sugar
• 1 tsp vanilla
• 6oz. Silk Vanilla Soy Yogurt (or your favorite vanilla vegan-friendly yogurt)
• 1 1/2 tsp baking powder
• 1 tsp salt
• 2 c. flour
• 1/2 c. milk
• 1/2 tsp baking soda
• 1 large box of instant vanilla pudding (Yes, Jell-O is vegan. I checked.)
• 2 tsp cinnamon

Baking Instructions
1. Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F.
2. Spray a loaf pan with non-stick cooking spray.
3. Remove one cup of batter from your bag/bowl and set aside. Pour remaining starter into a large mixing bowl. Return the reserved cup to the bowl/bag. You can either begin the ten day cycle again or just freeze this for another time or use.
4. To the starter, add the flour, sugar, and milk. Mix well, then allow to rest about ten minutes.
5. Add remaining ingredients to the batter, mixing well.
6. Pour batter into pan. Bake at 325 degrees for one to one-and-a-half hours, or until a cake tester comes out clean

If you’re looking for the s’mores pie you got at a restaurant or diner recently — that chocolate-pudding confection with whipped cream, fudge, mini-marshmallows, or whatever else passes for “S’mores Pie” these days — then I’m sorry, friend, but you’ve come to the wrong place. The recipe you’ll find within this page is NOTHING that fancy. It is pretty much what the title implies — a quick dessert you can whip up in almost any kitchen that’s cheep and easy and satisfies that deep longing for campfire cooked s’mores that no city dweller can satisfy.

Or, in my case, uses up leftover s’mores fixings from a barbecue.

But come on, look at that photo and tell me your mouth isn’t watering already at the thought of melted Hershey’s chocolate, graham crackers, and slightly-blackened marshmallows.

Don’t lie to me. I see you drooling.

Now, I wish I could say that I deliberately wrote this recipe and burned the marshmallows, but nothing can be further from the truth. The fact of the matter is, I was gifted a large amount of marshmallows and chocolate by my parents after their Memorial Day barbecue, and pretty much let it sit on the kitchen counter for days while I went “What the hell am I going to do with this? I live in a second-story apartment. I don’t barbecue.” The idea floated through my head that I should go grab a box of Rice Krispy cereal, finely chop the chocolate, and make chocolate chip Rice Krispy Treat squares, but where would the fun in that be, hmmm? Not to mention the fact that I was really craving some s’mores about a week after I received my s’mores fixings.

Luckily, there’s a grocery store on my way home from work, and that store carries graham cracker crusts.

Now, as for the burnt part–I like my marshmallows a little on the well done side, so I had every intention of pulling the pie out of the oven, photographing the beautiful, golden-brown crust that’d formed on top, then throwing it back in and burning the hell out of it. Three minutes under the broiler, I pulled out my pie and…

Nothing. The marshmallows had softened and began to merge with one another, but all that did was form a solid white top that looked absolutely no where near the vision I had for this cheap, easy dish, so back in it went. Of course, at that point, my turkey and white bean chili had just finished simmering, so I started setting the table, and yadda yadda yadda, I realized “Oh shit! The pie!”

I threw open the stove, burning my forearm in the process, and found to my immediate relief that the pie was not on fire, but done just the way I like it. Of course, that sadly meant that I couldn’t take a picture of the medium done pie. Just cook to your liking, people.

College Grad S’mores Pie

An original Elizabeth Williams recipe

INGREDIENTS
• 6 regular sized Hershey’s milk chocolate bars (not those thick King Sized deals that your cube neighbor’s kid sells for Girl Scouts/Soccer/Church/Satan)
• 1 graham cracker crust
• 1 bag of marshmallows (give or take a few)

Yes, really, that’s the list.

DIRECTIONS
1. In a double-boiler — or, if you’re a broke-ass grad student, college grad, or otherwise lacking funds, just stack a pot inside an ever-so-slightly larger pot so that the top one only sinks into the bottom one a centimeter or so — bring a few cups of water to a boil. Melt the chocolate.
2. Pour your melted chocolate into the pie crust. As most such crusts are VERY crumbly, please be careful spreading your chocolate around.
3. Placing each marshmallow vertically, fill the pie crust with as many as you wish, keeping in mind that these suckers will expand.
4. Place the pie 4-6″ under the broiler for 3 minutes for a still white crust, 4 minutes for a golden crust, and 6 minutes for a marshmallow crust as black as your heart.
5. Serve warm. Reheat leftovers (if there are any) once slice at a time on a microwave safe plate, nuking that sucker for 15 seconds on high.

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