First, because I know how you gluttons operate, I'm providing the information on my mind-blowingly stupendous achievement in conceptual culinary creativity: Pumpkin Pie Brûlée. 

This recipe was conceived in a state of sublime, champagne-induced epiphany, and (bonus!) so long as one isn't the kind of foolish, sloppy drunk who can't even be trusted to operate a (hardly even slightly dangerous) butane torch (only 2000 degrees, after all), it can be executed at various levels of intoxication. 

   No advanced culinary skills are needed for this recipe: Pumpkin Pie Brûlée is simply a single slice of whatever pumpkin pie you have handy, coated with sugar and brûlée'd with your average kitchen torch. So almost anyone with that basic piece of equipment can make their own version, sure to please. But please allow me to offer a few tips, gained from years of experience, to aid in your production of the perfect slice.

--Line a cookie sheet or other non-flammable surface with aluminum foil (Reynold's Non-Stick is ideal, but not necessary).

--Place a slice of your pie on the sheet, and then spoon sugar ("superfine" or "Baker's" type is my recommendation) in an even layer on the top of the slice. Create a small mound of sugar on each side of the slice and gently coax it onto the vertical sides of the pie with a spoon. The sugar won't stay very visible on the sides of the pie (since it will be obscured by the pie's interior moisture), but it will still be there, and should brûlée  nicely.

 --Take a few very thin curls of butter and lay them along the crust of the slice, then top it with a delicate sprinkling of sugar. This will protect against inadvertent crust-burning, with the added benefit of providing extra buttery deliciousness.

 --Brûlée the pie, moving slowly and evenly, or quickly and haphazardly-- it doesn't really matter, as long as you just pay attention and burn that sugar 'til it has that bubbly caramelization you crave. Increase the distance from flame to pie while melting the butter over the crust. The whole operation should take about a minute per slice. N.B. Your kitchen will now smell delicious!

--Plate the Pumpkin Pie Brûlée. I add a simple quenelle of homemade whipped cream to the plate for elegance and simplicity. I opt for a less-sweet whipped cream, which balances the crispy sugar shell of the pie wonderfully.

--Other notes: always have extra butane, especially if you're planning on serving many slices in succession. And while this can easily be prepared in advance, making each slice to order adds a certain drama and delightful anticipation which shouldn't be underestimated. 

The result? You'll end up with a piece of gustatory goodness that can't fully be comprehended until it's consumed. You might be thinking, "Sure, I could see throwing some sugar on a plain ol' piece of pie..." but, believe me, you can't fully understand the profundity of this treat until you taste it. This recipe takes the reason why people love crème brûlée  (the crack of that delectable sugar) and multiplies it, increasing the surface area (and therefore the pleasure) to the power of fuck! Yum! After all, it's not like people go around craving custard all the time (with the possible exception of flan)-- it's the delicious (and somehow classy) sugar that amps up the whole deal into haute-cuisine-territory. And what's more, the earthy spice of pumpkin pie plays miraculously well against the added sugar, which itself takes on a more complex flavor-profile due to its metamorphosis by flame. Finally, the slight warmth imparted to the outer layer of pie from the brûlée process makes any pie, whether homemade or store-bought, fresh-baked or leftover, resonate with the decadent, luscious luxury that defines what a dessert should be. 

--Enjoy!

And now, the story behind the pie... 

~~~~Thanksgiving, Taken to a Certain Philosophical Extreme~~~~

In our hyper-capitalist, over-commercialized society (one word: Latisse!),  it's become obvious that having any kind of meaningful holiday experience (as opposed to simply surviving them with grim determination) can be quite the challenge indeed. So when, many a year ago, I found myself in  a new city far from the mildly-dysfunctional family gatherings of my youth, I decided to recreate Thanksgiving in my own style.

My formula for a profound, meaningful Thanksgiving is summarized thusly:

1 Pumpkin Pie +

2 Bottles Champagne +

2-4 dvds, of any genre, so long as the films focus on the bleakest depths to which humanity can or has plummeted, with high-quality filmmaking being an absolutely indispensible Criterion for inclusion.

= Thanksgiving, reinvented. 

Undoubtedly, many people, habituated to the sort-of-harmless but mostly mindless American Thanksgiving, made up of artificially manufactured family dramas, compensatory overindulgence, and blah blah blah let's watch football so we won't have to engage with one another,  might initially question my personal holiday strategy. And while I've certainly had opportunities to join a friend's family (maybe the only thing potentially more awkward than Thanksgiving with my own family), or else join with friends in a ultra-cool hipster anti-Thanksgiving (lovely people perhaps, but somehow repellent nonetheless), I've grown quite attached to my little solitary ritual. It gives me a predictable emotional experience, for one-- unlike those family gatherings that can be smooth-sailing one year and uncouth wailing the next-- and really achieves what I take to be the truest center of whatever it is Thanksgiving is supposed to mean these days: a solemn contemplation of the lives of others, which we should realize could well be our own, and an accompanying expansion of the sense of self to encompass the whole of the human family.

Also, after watching the fifth hour of Lanzmann's intensely humane Shoah, and polishing off bottle #1 of champagne, you just might stumble around in your kitchen, looking for comfort, which in turn might result in you brainstorming an idea for a groundbreaking new dessert! 

For those interested, this year's selections were:

1. Wooden Crosses (Le Croix de Bois), by Raymond Bernard, a French film from 1932 about the First World War;

2. Born Into Brothels, by Hoffmann and Briski, an Oscar-winning film about the children of prostitutes in Calcutta's red-light district; and

3. Sand and Sorrow, an HBO Documentary by Freedman (narrated by George Clooney, whom I now dislike less), about the continuing genocide in Darfur. 

 Previous selections have included: The Sorrow and the Pity, Night and Fog, The Killing Fields and Shake Hands with the Devil. I'd love to hear your suggestions for next year in the comments, since it's become progressively more difficult to match the Shoah experience from 2005.

-- de rien.