Better Than a TV Dinner: Chicken Pot Pie

The first pot pie I ever ate was a frozen one from the supermarket, probably Swanson's or something like that.  Shortly after my father died, my mother began working at a bank in the neighborhood, and although she was nearly always home when we got home from school, she worked until 7 PM on Friday nights.  We lived in the same house as my grandparents, so this was no problem.  We arrived home to the warm greeting of my grandmother.  My sister and I were about 10 and 11 years old, and my mother had taught us how to do a basic, decent cleaning of the house.  Our home was on one level, and we had a finished basement as well, so each week, Betsy and I would take turns: one of us would dust and vacuum the upstairs, and the other would dust and vacuum the downstairs.  The upstairs was larger, and there was more to do, but the basement, as it was our domain, was inevitably messier and dirtier, so it was really a toss up as to which one would take longer.  On the week I cleaned the basement, I could have the TV on, which made the cleaning seem to go by a little faster, but on the week I cleaned the upstairs, there was time to look closely at the beautiful pieces of china and crystal my mother had, all of which she had taken such good care of over the years.

After we had done the cleaning, our 'chores' on Friday, the deal was that we were allowed to cook a TV dinner for ourselves.  My grandmother, who was right upstairs, and had cooked dinner for herself and my grandfather, was beside herself on a weekly basis.  Why didn't we just eat with them?  Why would we want these frozen meals in an aluminum pan when she had made a homemade, delicious meal of which there was plenty? More than one argument arose out of that scenario. Now, of course, the idea of eating a TV dinner is less than appealing, but at the time, it seemed very exciting.  We got to choose our own meals when we went to the grocery store with my mother during the week.  We could each have something different.  I remember my sister being partial to the Salisbury Steak, whereas I liked the Stouffer's mac and cheese, or the turkey dinner, or eventually, I discovered, the pot pie.  Chicken (or turkey)? Gravy? Pie crust?  Why had we never had this before? 

Looking back, I understand that what we really wanted was not the TV dinners so much as the independence and responsibility that came with them.  Two almost-teen-age girls allowed to be home by ourselves (okay, Gram and Grandpa were right upstairs), given the charge of cleaning the house and then allowed to 'cook' and eat dinner together on the couch, in front of the TV at the end of the week, and enjoy the feeling of satisfaction that comes from doing a (pretty good) job.  Perhaps it is why Friday evening is still my favorite time of the week; the work week is done, and nothing but the prospect of two days of freedom lies ahead.

This recipe takes a few liberties; it is by no means a classic pot pie. I also cut a few time-saving corners, using puff pastry instead of making pie crust, so if you are a purist, by all means, make the crust.  I was looking at this as a pot pie you could make after a day at work.  Not too difficult, but still a treat for a Friday night, or any night for that matter.

Chicken Pot Pie  (makes 6 individual pot pies, or you can make 1 large one in a 9x13 inch pan)

1 box (2 sheets) frozen puff pastry, thawed
The meat from a medium roasted chicken (confession: I used a rotisserie chicken from the grocery store)
3 large carrots, chopped
1 medium onion, diced
3 stalks celery, chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 tsp thyme
salt and pepper to taste
4 potatoes, peeled, and chopped into  1/2 inch cubes
1 1/2 packages Green Giant petite peas (or any frozen peas that you like)
2 tbsp butter
4 tbsp olive oil, divided
3 tbsp all purpose flour
32 oz good quality chicken stock
1 tsp chicken demi-glace, optional
1 egg, beaten

Toss the potatoes in 1 tbsp olive oil and some salt, and put them in a cast iron skillet or a baking tray covered in foil. Roast at 375 degrees for about 40 minutes, until golden brown.  While they are roasting, put the celery, onions, garlic, and carrots in an oven proof skillet with 1 tablespoon of olive oil and sautee on medium heat until transluscent, 4-5 minutes.  Pop the whole skillet into the oven for about 10 minutes, just to get a little color on the vegetables.  In the meantime, melt the butter in a large saucepan.  Add the remaining olive oil and the flour.  Turn the heat to medium, and with a wisk, mix the fat and flour, cooking them until the roux turns a deep golden brown.  Add the chicken stock gradually, wisking constantly to avoid any lumps. Add the demi-glace, if using.  Bring the mixture up to a boil while wisking.  Return to a simmer, and add the onion, celery, carrot mixture.  Add the fresh thyme and let simmer for about 20 minutes. Taste, and add salt and pepper if needed. after 20 minutes, add the peas and stir.  Bring back to temperature.

Roll out the puff pastry and cut circles as large as the bottom of the pot pie container you are using.  I used large soup bowls, so I cut 1 small circle and 1 larger one for each pot pie.  Lay the puff pastry circles on a baking sheet, and poke several fork holes in each. Brush the beaten egg on the circles that will serve as the lid of the pot pies. Bake according to the package directions until the pastry is just barely golden.

When all the components are done, beging to assemble the pot pies.  First, put the small circles of puff pastry in the bottom of each container.  Add some potatoes and some shredded chicken.  Then pour the gravy and pea mixture.  Topwith one of the larger pastry circles.  Repeat until all the ingredients are used up.  Place the pot pies on a baking sheet and return to the 350 degree oven for about 20 minutes, or until the insides are bubbly and the top pastry is a deep golden brown.  Serve immediately.

A Wing and a Prayer - Gringo Tamales

My husband and I have a tradition that many may think odd. On our anniversary each year, we make a top-ten list of our favorite meals together over the twenty years we have known each other. Strange, I know. I can’t even remember how we started this tradition, though it has always been our chiefest pastime to cook, eat, and share with friends. It goes without saying that the food needs to be good in order for a meal to make it into a top ten list that spans twenty years, but more often than not, the meals also involve a memory that is unique and special, a moment in time that speaks to warmth, love, and togetherness. I have found in my life that the most memorable meals I have ever had are accompanied by an ambiance, a mood, a sharing of something. Often it involves family, great friends; sometimes, it is just the two of us or the four of us. This tradition of ours, obsessive (about food) though it may be, enables us to revisit these strong associations regularly, and keeps those feelings and memories alive for many years.

And it is a good thing we have good memories, because while I like to take a recipe, try it our, tweak it, change it, add or subtract what I like, dislike or want more of, Michael totally wings it, makes it up as he goes, and flies by the seat of his pants. As a result, we never have exactly the same meal twice, at least not if he is cooking. As we sit down to his dinners, created lovingly, I may compliment the chef. Often, Michael will say, “Like it? Too bad you’ll never have it again.” It has become the running kitchen joke of our marriage (that, along with the thing about going to the bathroom after eating asparagus).

So this past weekend, he made what I am referring to as “Gringo Tamales.” I begged him to write down what he was doing as he was doing it, but as much as he claims to love me, he did not. As a result, I was forced to take copious notes, retry, and recreate these tamales. In no way are these authentic, so feel free to add or subtract ingredients, change up the stuffing, whatever. Note that nobody who lives in or hails from a place where tamales are a traditional food would ever propose using tin foil sheets as a tamale vehicle either. They would be totally offended by the mere suggestion, no doubt. We are suggesting it anyway.

For the tamale dough:

3 15-oz.cans hominy (drained and rinsed)
1 clove garlic
1 tb. Onion powder
1 tb. Paprika
1 cup fine masa harina
5 tb. Shortening (I know, but it is not like you are going to make this stuff every day)
½ tsp. salt
½ tsp. baking powder
¾ cup warm chicken stock

To make the tamale dough:

Put the hominy in the food processor and process until smooth. Add all other ingredients and process for about a minute until all ingredients are well combined.  It should be the consistency of frosting and should be spreadable.

For the filling:

2 split chicken breasts, bone-in
2 tb. Recaito (found in the latino food section of the grocery store)
2 tsp. fresh lime juice
2 chipotle peppers, packed in adobo (buy them in a can, and save the rest for another purpose)
1 tb. prepared green salsa
2 tb. fresh pico de gallo
1 tsp. white vinegar
1 tb. olive oil
1 clove garlic
2 cups of chicken stock

To cook the chicken:

Put all ingredients except the olive oil, onion, chicken stock, and chicken in the food processor, and puree. Put chicken (seasoned with salt and pepper) in a hot cast iron skillet with the olive oil, and brown on all sides. Add onions and sauté a minute or two more, then pour 2 cups of chicken stock into the pan. Pour the sauce made in the food processor directly on top of the chicken. Bring up to temperature, then cover and place in an oven, preheated to 350 degrees. Cook for 90 minutes, until chicken falls off the bone. Take chicken out of pan, reduce remaining liquid until it is very thick. Remove skin and bones from chicken, and mix filling ingredients thoroughly.

Additional ingredients:

Queso fresco or feta cheese
Sautéed spinach with garlic


To assemble tamales:

We used sheets of tin foil, which worked really well. Into each one, place about 3-4 tablespoons of the masa harina mixture, and spread evenly across the foil sheets, while leaving the edges empty. In the center, place 1 ½ tablespoons of the shredded chicken, topped by sautéed spinach and some of the queso fresco. Close the tin foil sheet almost like a burrito, working to enclose the meat, spinach and cheese within the masa harina. Repeat until finished (we made about 12 tamales) - this part is a very inexact science.

Put a steamer basket in the bottom of a large stockpot, with about an inch of water in the bottom of the pot. Stand the tamales on end inside. Place a cover on the pot, and if necessary, put something heavy on top of the lid. Steam the tamales for an hour, making sure that water remains in the bottom of the pot (we did not have a problem at all…not enough steam escaped.

Unwrap the tamales carefully to try to keep them intact. I think they would be great served with a little of the fresh pico de gallo and some sour cream, but I was too lazy to get up off the couch to get some. You can let me know!

Note:  This recipe is not nearly as complicated as it may seem when you read through it.  It involves several steps, but was really quite easy, and even our kids got in on the tamale building action.