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Black as tar, but oh so sweet

Well, the elections returns are mostly in and it's a good day for some Schadenfreude pie. What with the prospect of gridlocked government and Rumsfeld's resignation, I'm feeling safer and more nationally secure already.

That said, it's sad that the anti-gay marriage amendment was passed in Virginia, thus enshrining in our state constitution both discrimination and really bad wording that is going to have negative implications for all couples, regardless of their gender mix. Also, gay marriage is illegal here anyway. You people who voted for the amendment, you'd better not be the same people who've voted down the Equal Rights Amendment because "discrimination is illegal and so the amendment is redundant." (Another anti-ERA argument I've heard is "Then men could use the women's restroom." As if they'd want to wait in the lines!) On the less dark side, here in beautiful Richmond, Virginia, capital of the Confederacy, through the heart of which runs an avenue decorated with statues of the Confederate generals, 69.35% of us voted against the anti-marriage amendment. Go us! Too bad there aren't more of us.

We're still waiting to see if we're going to be stuck with another term of Senator Maccaca. I think Webb's 7217 vote lead will stand up to a recount.

My Schadenfreude is somewhat tempered by the lack of a concession speech from Maccaca, but I'm happy about the gridlock, which is definite even if the GOP loss of Senate control is not.

Now, about the pie. I basically followed the Scalzis' recipe. I made sure to use 100% pure blackstrap molasses because that (Or they? Is "molasses" plural?) is blacker and tastes much better than the product usually labeled molasses but which is actually a mixture of molasses and corn syrup. I got the darkest chocolate chips I could find, with a 60% cocoa content. The only changes I made were substitutions (dark rum instead of Kahlua, because I didn't have any Kahlua, and a pastry crust instead of a cookie crust, because I like pastry better), the addition of a half cup of chopped pecans sprinkled on top (because Schadenfreude should have crispy bits), and an adjusted cooking time and temperature (one hour and five minutes at 350 °F). One benefit to not being quite sure of the cooking time was the opportunity to repeatedly stab the pie in its black heart to test for doneness. Once I finally declared the pie done, I put it on a cooling rack and watched it pulsate darkly and evilly as it slowly deflated.

The pie is good. Rich, dark, and very sweet.