Last week, I had the most delicious chocolate mousse pie. A gift from my dad!
It was his third and best attempt. He brought the whole pie over in a cooler with a bag of frozen cappellettis from Nonni. I was psyched. Chocolate mousse pie AND cappellettis? Turns out, he was only using the bag of cappellettis as an ice pack, and he said he needed them back. Curse you, father. (In the end, he gave those to me, too. This blog has been working out great in situations like this.)
We wasted no time cutting into the mousse pie. I was slightly pissed off to realize that it was, frankly, better than mine. Really. He said mine was lighter, but his was plenty light and, more importantly, his was chocolatier. Guess what wins out in my book? So, I think we’re going to have to arrange some sort of chocolate mousse pie exchange program so that he makes one for me if I make one for him.
Anyway, in my haste to wrap up the pie and get it into the refrigerator before my kids started using my sharing lecture against me, I forgot to take a picture like I promised. I had already stuck toothpicks into it like a porcupine to keep the plastic wrap from pulling off valuable whipped cream. Then, I ate it all. I’m a bad blogger and a bad daughter.
By the way, I don’t mean to withhold the recipe, it's just that it's part of the family cookbook. I got it from my beloved cousin, Karla, after she wowed everyone at a family reunion with it a few years ago. So, you’ll just have to wait. Unless, of course, you can con my dad into making one for you.