Vegan Brownie Pecan Pie

Happy 2014!!
I officially launched my blog one year ago with the resolution of keeping up with posting. As you can see, I completed 2013's resolution without fail! 
(That's a first).

This adventure has been rewarding, inside and out.
Looking back at my first post, I feel like I've come a long way as far as photography and writing skills go. One thing I love hearing from friends is, "Oh yea! I saw that on your blog!" I'm not really sure how many readers I have, but I know for a fact that I'm thankful for the supportive bunch out there. Most of all, I love the feeling of satisfaction felt from scrolling through all of my posts and realizing: I put time and dedication into that. I wrote that. I took that picture. I published something for other people to read.

Regardless of the size of my audience, I'm going to continue to make a mess in the kitchen, photograph the non-messy parts, write stories, share recipes, and cherish every memory and every bite. 
Truth be told: Food is something everyone has in common. We eat to live, and we live to eat. 

So here's to another year of food, food, and more food!

This brownie recipe may sound familiar. This is because it's the same black bean brownie recipe from this post. Except this time, the mini-brownie cupcakes are taking on a new form: brownie pie.

Vegan Brownie Pecan Pie
Yield: one 8" or 9" pie
Brownie recipe adapted from: minimalistbaker

  • 1-15 oz. can black beans, drained and rinsed
  • 2 large flax egg (2-1/2 tablespoons flax meal + 6 tbsp. water)
  • 3 tbsp. coconut oil, melted
  • ¾ cup dark chocolate cocoa powder
  • ¼ tsp. salt
  • 1 tsp. vanilla
  • ½ cup + 2 tbsp. sugar
  • 1-1/2 tsp. baking powder
  • 1/2 cup chocolate chips, divided
  • 1 cup raw pecans
  • 1/4 cup sugar, granulated
  • 1/4 cup brown sugar
  • 1 tablespoon water
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon 

  1. Line an 8" or 9" round cake pan with parchment paper. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. 
  2. In the bowl of a food processor, combine water and flax meal. Pulse a few times and let sit for 10 minutes. 
  3. Add all remaining ingredients to the flax egg excluding 1/4 cup of the chocolate chips. Pulse for five minutes.  Then, test the consistency. (If the batter does not fall off the spoon when lifted, add one teaspoon of water at a time and pulse to mix. The batter should not be runny. 
  4. Transfer brownie mixture to a separate bowl and fold in the remaining 1/4 cup of chocolate chips. Insert batter into the prepared round pan. 
  5. Bake for 30-40 minutes. Remove from oven and let cool completely before removing from pan. 
  6. For the glazed pecans: preheat oven to 350 degrees and line a sheet pan with with foil.
  7. In a small saucepan combine pecans, sugars, and water. Cook over medium heat for 3-5 minutes stirring constantly until the sugar thickens to a syrup. Stir in cinnamon and salt.
  8. Transfer pecans to the foil-lined sheet pan. Bake for 5 minutes, stirring halfway through, until pecans are toasted. Remove from oven and let cool. Spread evenly over the top of the cooled de-panned brownie. Store in fridge for up to one week. 

Perhaps the World Ends Here

The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.

The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.

We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.

It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.

At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.

Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.

This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.

Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.

We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.

At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.

Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.

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© A Little Baker
Maira Gall