Traditional British Food, Part 2: Comfort Food

Yes, I made another pie, but I promise to make other things. It's just that this pie was quite possibly the best chicken pot pie I've ever eaten. Last post's chicken pie was subtle and sophisticated and very very good, but this one was the epitome of comfort food. It has bacon and a pastry crust! Admittedly, it's better suited to cool weather (the last chicken pie is perfect for spring/summer with its lemon and parsley) but that didn't stop me. Plus, Paul threw out his back and was in need of some culinary comfort. This pie fits the bill and you really should try it. The original recipe is here. My version:

Chicken and Mushroom Pie


8 slices bacon (approximately 6 ounces), cut into 3/4-inch-wide pieces
1 onion, chopped
1/2 pound mushrooms, quartered if large, halved if small
Thyme (either a few sprigs fresh or a generous sprinkle dried)
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
3/4 cup chicken stock (see previous post)
1/3 cup milk
4 cups cooked chicken (also see previous post)
salt and pepper
1/2 pound puff pastry (thawed, but cold)
1 egg, beaten

• Preheat oven to 400 degrees fahrenheit.
• Heat a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add bacon and fry for 5 minutes until cooked but not crispy.
• Add onions, mushrooms, and thyme to the skillet and continue cooking another 5 minutes or until the onions soften and just start to brown.
• Add flour and cook, stirring continuously, for 1 minute then remove skillet from heat.
• Stir in the stock and milk and add in the chicken.
• Return skillet to the heat and bring to a boil. Cook for a few minutes until the sauce is thick and slightly reduced (you still want moisture but not too much liquid). Season to taste with salt and pepper.
  
• Put this mixture in a pan with a 1 quart (4 cup) capacity (9-inch pie plate, Le Creuset Oval Gratin 28, etc.) and place on a baking sheet.
• Roll out the pastry (on a floured surface) to slightly larger than the pan and then place it on top of the pan. Trim and tuck under the extra pastry then brush with enough of the beaten egg to moisten the top of the pastry.
• Cook in the middle of the oven for about 30 minutes or until pastry rises and browns.
  

Traditional British Food, Part 1: A Chicken in Every Pot

Welcome to the first edition of my Traditional British Food Project! Last night, I made my version of a BBC Good Food recipe, Chicken, Leek & Parsley Pie. I got to use my basic math skills when converting metric units to English units. I really don't like the metric system. It lacks the romance of the English system. I think that tablespoons and cups are friendlier than milliliters, which always sound so sterile. Anyway, here's my version of the recipe:

Chicken, Leek, and Parsley Pie

4 cups cooked chicken*, chopped into bite-sized pieces or pulled apart by hand (my preferred method)
2 cups chicken stock (you really should use homemade if at all possible, see how here)
3 1/2 tablespoons butter (unsalted)
2 leeks (of average size)
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
Finely grated zest of 1 lemon (also average size)
2 cups (lightly packed) flat-leaf parsley
1/4 cup crema mexicana (closest thing to creme fraiche in Wichita)
1/2 pound puff pastry (thawed, but cold)
Milk or beaten egg or egg white (to glaze crust)

Pan with a 4-cup capacity, such as a 9-inch pie plate, a Le Creuset oval gratin 28, a 9-inch round cake pan, or an 8x4-inch loaf pan

1. Preheat oven to 400-degrees fahrenheit.
2. Halve and thinly slice white and light-green part of leeks. Soak in a large bowl to remove silt.
3. Roughly chop parsley and zest lemon. Set aside.
4. Place chicken in the bottom of your pan.
5. Melt butter in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Add drained leeks and cook until softened (about 5 minutes). Stir in the flour and cook for 1 minute. Then, gradually stir in the stock and cook until the sauce bubbles and thickens.
6. Remove saucepan from the heat and stir in lemon, parsley, and crema. Season to taste with salt and pepper then pour over the chicken and set pie dish aside.
7. Roll out the puff pastry until it is approximately 1 inch larger all around than the top of the pie dish. Moisten the rim of the dish with water, place the pastry on the dish and use a sharp knife or kitchen shears to trim the overhanging pastry to 1 inch all around. Turn the edges under then seal with the tines of a fork. Any leftover pastry can be used for decoration.
8. Brush the pastry with the milk or egg wash and bake on a baking sheet (to catch bubblings over and make it easier to remove from the oven) in the center of the oven for about 35 minutes, or until pastry is golden.

(Serves 4)

*Cooked chicken can be left over from a roast or from making stock with a whole chicken (as opposed to just bones and leftover bits). To make stock with an entire bird:

1. Put an entire 3 to 5-pound chicken in a large stockpot or dutch oven.
2. Add a peeled and roughly chopped carrot, a roughly chopped celery stalk, and a peeled and quartered onion.
3. Add enough water to cover the chicken by half an inch.
4. Add 1 bay leaf, a handful of peppercorns, and thyme sprigs or dried thyme.
5. Bring almost to a boil, then reduce to a simmer. Cover and simmer for 1 1/2 hours. Check the heat every once in a while.
6. Strain the stock into a mixing bowl (discarding the solid parts). Cover and cool overnight. In the morning, you can skim off the fat (which will now have solidified) and store the stock in the refrigerator. I like to use quart-sized mason jars.
7. Cool the chicken overnight and then remove the meat and store in the refrigerator.

In other news, we've had one strawberry from our hanging basket reach maturity thus far. It was red all the way through and juicy and a bit tart. We'll have to see how the other ones turn out. (The demitasse cup and saucer are part of a set I found at A Legacy Antiques on Douglas.)

In other antique dish news, I found a set of nine of these (for $8.25) at an estate sale this weekend:
That's all for now. Until next time!

Come, let's go a-Maying*

I'd love to, Mr. Herrick, but it's still a-raining. I love dreary weather, but this is getting to be a bit much. No maypole dancing today. However, I doubt there's a place for maypole dancing in Wichita even if it weren't raining. Perhaps it's for the best. According to Henry Burton's Divine Tragedy, anyone who has fun catches the plague and dies. Or falls through the ice and dies. Or gets pregnant. And dies.**

While we're on the subject of things of which Mr. Burton is bound to disapprove, here's my recipe for Kentucky Derby Bourbon Pecan Pie. Paul was dying for pecan pie and the Kentucky Derby is tomorrow, so it seemed natural. I did some internet research and didn't really find the recipe that was what I was looking for, so I cobbled a few together and made my own. My biggest problem with pecan pie is that the filling is usually sickly-sweet, but the whiskey does a good job of cutting the sweetness and giving the filling more depth of flavor.

I started with the Martha Stewart short crust recipe, but I made it in a bowl with my hands and a fork and skipped the aggravating clean-up associated with a food processor. This pie only needs half a recipe, so I froze the rest for later. The crust is blind baked (20 minutes at 375 with docking and pie weights) and then cooled. For the filling:

1/2 c. unsalted butter
4 large eggs
1 c. light corn syrup
3/4 c. light brown sugar, packed
1 t vanilla extract
1/4 t fine-grained salt
3 T Bourbon whiskey (I used Maker's Mark)
1 1/4 c. chopped pecans

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Melt the butter in a medium saucepan over low heat then remove from the heat and let cool. Add the remaining ingredients except the pecans and whisk until incorporated and smooth. Stir in the pecans and then pour filling into the cooled pie shell. Bake for around 50 to 60 minutes, or until the tip of a knife comes out relatively clean from the center of the pie. If needed, cover the edge of the pie with tin foil to keep the crust from burning. Be sure to cool the pie completely so the filling will set up.

n.b.: Don't be lazy like I was and neglect to chill the formed crust before blind baking it. That's how I lost my fluting. :-(


In other cooking news, I'm announcing a new project! Beginning this month, I'm going to be adapting traditional British recipes and posting my results. If you feel like making any of the recipes, I'd love to know how everything turned out (and I'd like to see pictures, if possible). I know British food has a bad reputation and isn't very popular, but a lot of the recipes I've been researching sound really appetizing. I'm looking forward to adapting them and cooking them for the blog.

While we're on the subject of things British, I have to share a recent awesome estate sale find: a Brown Betty teapot. It was only $11 because we went on the half-price day.




I also got all these cloth napkins for $3, which means that I won't have to sew any. Paul and I are trying to drastically reduce our trash output. We already recycle and try to reuse things, but now we're starting a compost heap and trying to only buy things that either (a) have no packaging or (b) have recyclable packaging. It's going to be quite a challenge!



* CORINNA'S GOING A-MAYING.
by Robert Herrick

GET up, get up for shame, the blooming morn
Upon her wings presents the god unshorn.
See how Aurora throws her fair
Fresh-quilted colours through the air :
Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see
The dew bespangling herb and tree.
Each flower has wept and bow'd toward the east
Above an hour since : yet you not dress'd ;
Nay ! not so much as out of bed?
When all the birds have matins said
And sung their thankful hymns, 'tis sin,
Nay, profanation to keep in,
Whereas a thousand virgins on this day
Spring, sooner than the lark, to fetch in May.

Rise and put on your foliage, and be seen
To come forth, like the spring-time, fresh and green,
And sweet as Flora. Take no care
For jewels for your gown or hair :
Fear not ; the leaves will strew
Gems in abundance upon you :
Besides, the childhood of the day has kept,
Against you come, some orient pearls unwept ;
Come and receive them while the light
Hangs on the dew-locks of the night :
And Titan on the eastern hill
Retires himself, or else stands still
Till you come forth. Wash, dress, be brief in praying :
Few beads are best when once we go a-Maying.

Come, my Corinna, come ; and, coming, mark
How each field turns a street, each street a park
Made green and trimm'd with trees : see how
Devotion gives each house a bough
Or branch : each porch, each door ere this
An ark, a tabernacle is,
Made up of white-thorn neatly interwove ;
As if here were those cooler shades of love.
Can such delights be in the street
And open fields and we not see't ?
Come, we'll abroad ; and let's obey
The proclamation made for May :
And sin no more, as we have done, by staying ;
But, my Corinna, come, let's go a-Maying.

There's not a budding boy or girl this day
But is got up, and gone to bring in May.
A deal of youth, ere this, is come
Back, and with white-thorn laden home.
Some have despatch'd their cakes and cream
Before that we have left to dream :
And some have wept, and woo'd, and plighted troth,
And chose their priest, ere we can cast off sloth :
Many a green-gown has been given ;
Many a kiss, both odd and even :
Many a glance too has been sent
From out the eye, love's firmament ;
Many a jest told of the keys betraying
This night, and locks pick'd, yet we're not a-Maying.

Come, let us go while we are in our prime ;
And take the harmless folly of the time.
We shall grow old apace, and die
Before we know our liberty.
Our life is short, and our days run
As fast away as does the sun ;
And, as a vapour or a drop of rain
Once lost, can ne'er be found again,
So when or you or I are made
A fable, song, or fleeting shade,
All love, all liking, all delight
Lies drowned with us in endless night.
Then while time serves, and we are but decaying,
Come, my Corinna, come, let's go a-Maying. (published 1648, check out this Robert Herrick site.)

**This took locating my notes from HIST 4973: Revolutionary Britain 1640-1660, which have now moved with me twice. And yet, I can't find my purse. Burton's indignant Puritan response to Charles I's Declaration of Sports, which encouraged fun on Sunday, is worth reading just for the sheer amusement. It reminds me of the sex-ed scene in Mean Girls: "Don't have sex, because you will get pregnant. And die."

Robert Herrick was a great supporter of the monarchy and many of his poems extol the glory of country amusements.

College Hill and Quiche-tastrophe

I am terribly excited because we're finally moving into our College Hill duplex! It's Tudor style, built in 1925 and only half a mile away from Watermark Books and Il Vicino. Living here, I like Wichita a lot more. I also hope that our protracted move (we took possession the fourteenth and the moving van doesn't come until the second) will help excuse my absence from the blog (although that's rather the norm). My goal is to post at least once a week from now on. Here's a picture of the only part of the living room that's currently habitable:

This is the place where I'm doing the most reading. In fact, I just finished Elizabeth Gaskell's Cranford, so I can now rent the movie from Netflix, because I missed it on Masterpiece Theatre. Plus, I like to read books before I see the movie so I can create my own version in my head before I'm influeced by someone else's vision. Anyway, it's a pleasant little book and I'm interested to see how it works on film.

I had to take the above photo with the flash on because it is positively dreary outside. We had absolutely horrible weather yesterday (flooding and tornadoes), but today it's just misting and moisting.* The good news is that the weather is so much cooler now. Last week, we had highs in the 80s (which I think is too hot) and today the high is only 61 (which I think is great).

Another thing I think is great is caviar, but I've had a horrible time finding it here. I happened to be at the Dillon's Marketplace in between taking loads of books to the duplex and I was perusing the import food section and found caviar on the Kosher aisle for only $5. Naturally, I was intrigued and bought it. It's really rather tasty. We had it for my birthday with Lingue di Suocera (mother-in-law's tongues) aglio olio (photo below). Paul and I ate in front of the TV while watching Netflixed Star Trek: The Next Generation. I have to say it was all quite enjoyable.


I would have more food to show, but I've had a quiche-tastrophe. In attempting to blind-bake my crust, I neglected to put the tart pan (which has a removable bottom) on a baking sheet. In the attempt to get it into the oven, it fell and I ended up with dried lima beans (my pie weights) everywhere, including down under the coils of the 400-degree oven. The whole apartment smelled like an ash tray and I haven't used the oven since. Yesterday, I was packing my baking sheets (which I keep in the drawer under the oven) and discovered that the drawer was full of lima beans. I didn't think that after I swept what felt like thousands of them off the floor that any could have escaped my notice. How did they even get in there?

I hope to have more photos of the duplex up soon and I'm also looking forward to us not running around like crazy people so I can use my new kitchen (I did make yogurt today, though).

*
One misty, moisty morning,
When cloudy was the weather,
There I met an old man
All clothed in leather

All clothed in leather,
With a cap under his chin.
How do you do?
And how do you do?
And how do you do again? (from Secret Rhyme Origins)

In which our unfortunate heroine meets with the loss of a dear friend

The above photo shows pork chops (from the west-side Farmers Market) that have been sautéed and then finished in the oven and glazed with a white-wine reduction (Côtes de porc poêlées) and paired with Haricots vert au maître d'hôtel and Asparagus vinaigrette. All recipes are from Mastering the Art of French Cooking. The only change I made to any of the recipes was to use Dijon mustard instead of dried mustard in the vinaigrette. I used to think that I hated mustard, but it turns out that Dijon in things is good. I still don't want to eat it just spread on a sandwich or sausages or something. That's too much for me. Also, yellow mustard is still yucky. I don't want to even smell it. So there.

Next, we have a Chicken, Mushroom, and Bacon pie from Nigella Express that I have altered. (I should have taken the photo the night before because the crusts didn't collapse on me. Oh, well.) I still haven't caved and bought garlic-infused oil, so I just use olive oil and then throw in garlic a little later. Also, the recipe calls for the pies to be topped with all-butter puff pastry. I don't know where to get anything but Pepperidge Farm in Wichita and that is made with partially hydrogenated vegetable shortening. There isn't even any butter in it. So, I just made a 10-inch pâte brisée and got enough dough to top 4 pies. That's another thing. The recipe says it makes 2 individual-serving pies, but the filling is enough for four people (even enough for four Pauls!). Since there are only two of us, I have a really nifty (if I do say so myself) method for leftovers. Instead of baking the pies in ramekins, I put the filling in 2-cup Pyrex containers. It's great because the Pyrex can go in the oven and in the refrigerator or freezer. Plus, they have lids, so the extra two servings can just go into the refrigerator for next time and then I can get them out, replace the lids with pie dough and pop them in the oven. The first meal from the recipe isn't exactly express (even if you don't count making the pie crust yourself--Tyson doesn't do a very good job of cleaning up chicken thighs before they get to the customer) but the second meal is really easy.

Evidently, research is currently being conducted on whether we should follow a diet similar to the traditional diets of the homelands of our ancestors. This would be terribly easy for pastry-fanatic me. Britons will put anything in a pie: apples, mincemeat, chicken, steak and kidneys, four-and-twenty blackbirds... It would definitely be more difficult to determine what Paul's ancestral diet ought to be. Spanish/German fusion cuisine, anyone?

According to Foodtimeline.org, sugar cookies originated in Arab cuisine and were introduced to Spain by the Moors. They were then introduced to the rest of Europe. Evidently what we think of as a sugar cookie is most closely related to the English "Jumble," appearing in print as early as 1615. I guess if we ate like our ancestors, both Paul and I would get to eat sugar cookies. Happy thought, indeed! The sugar cookie pictured below is from How to Be a Domestic Goddess and it is shaped like a fleur-de-lis because that is the only cookie cutter I have.
Unfortunately, in the making of the sugar cookies, I broke my bottle of vanilla extract. Nielsen-Massey Madagascar Bourbon Vanilla, to be exact. Oh, the agony! Thankfully it was only the $10 bottle, not the $19 bottle, and it was in its box (yes, I kept it in its original box) when I dropped it, so glass didn't go everywhere. While it was hemorrhaging its life force on my tile, I was in absolute agony. "No No No NO NOOOO!!!" I wailed. These may be the last baked goods for a while, at least until Paul lifts his embargo on a new bottle and stops insisting I use the cheap stuff instead.

Among other tragedies, WGN is no longer showing Star Trek: The Next Generation on Tuesday nights (they've moved it to midnight and I am not staying up for it), so our TV watching has been diminished even further. We're now watching episodes of the original series on the internet in front of Paul's computer. We're canceling our cable because all we watch together is Castle and Lie to Me and I watch Masterpiece Theatre and Gossip Girl (don't judge me) by myself. Get this: everything we watch on TV we can watch for free on the internet. Plus, we have Netflix and the public library has a pretty respectable movie collection, so I don't think we'll even miss broadcast television, especially since we get our news from the BBC and The New York Times, anyway. Yippee for saving $12 per month!

Food


I've been practicing my self-sufficiency muscles today. Since I've read The Omnivore's Dilemma, Real Food, and Taste, I have been interested in eating a "traditional" diet: basically nothing that couldn't have been produced before the industrial revolution. It also includes eating grass-fed beef and pastured hens and local, organic produce. Naturally, I don't find it the easiest thing in the world to always follow these principles, but I'm trying and I'll share the ways I've found that make it easier to follow a traditional diet.

I think the easiest way to procure local, organic produce is to grow it myself. I'm a little limited, though, because we rent. Nevertheless, Paul and I have just finished planting strawberries, herbs, and lettuce--all in containers. Thanks to Sheherazade Goldsmith's A Slice of Organic Life, I found out that strawberries can grow in a hanging basket (below) and the book also walked me through planting lettuce in a window box. We'll see how it goes!
In other realms of self-sufficiency, I also made chicken stock. It's really easy and makes stock that is soooo much better than the broth that comes in a box from the grocery store. It's also very close to free to make.


1. Save chicken scraps/bones in a gallon-size bag in the freezer. When it's full, you're ready to make stock. Be sure to save the gallon-size bag, though. You'll need it when you're done.

2. Peel a carrot and chop it in 3 or 4 large pieces.

3. Clean a celery stalk and cut off the leaves. Chop stalk into 3 or 4 pieces.

4. Peel a medium-sized white or yellow onion.

5. Get out your largest stock pot and put in the chicken pieces, carrot, celery, and onion. Fill with water to cover by approximately 2 inches.

6. Throw in a handful of peppercorns, a sprinkling of dried thyme or a couple stalks of fresh, and a couple of bay leaves.

7. Bring the stock almost up to a boil and then back the heat off to a slow simmer for 4 hours. All you have to do now is stir every once in a while and check on the heat.

8. Strain the stock into a mixing bowl (throw the solid parts of the stock into the gallon-size bag and discard). Cover and cool overnight. In the morning, you can skim off the fat (which will now have solidified) and store the stock in the refrigerator. There is generally between 4 and 6 cups of stock after it has been skimmed. I use quart-sized Mason jars for storage.

If you've never used your chicken scraps to make stock before, it's really worth it just for the taste. It's really not as daunting as it seems, I promise!

Knitting




This is the work I've done on the sweater I mentioned last post. This will eventually be the back of the sweater. The bottom portion is a 1x1 rib and now I'm working on the stitch pattern for the top part of the sweater. It's just a stockinette variation that gives a neat tweed-like effect that I think is pretty cool. It's going to be a while before I finish, but I'll keep you updated. I wish I could knit faster! There are so many projects I want to start!