Archive for the 'freezable' Category
My Mom made this for what is certain to be her annual Christmas ladies’ lunch a couple weeks ago; I loved its similarity to tourtière, the classic version of which I’m not particularly enamoured with, but I also love that it comes from the Fairmont le Château Frontenac in Montréal Quebec City. They make it with skinless, boneless chicken thighs and lidded with a flakey lard pastry crust, but it turned out to be the perfect use of leftover turkey and the vats of stock I’ve been freezing over the past couple days. (I throw the carcass back in the oven in its roasting pan and cook it again until it’s deep brown all over for a richer, darker stock.) I also typically wind up with extra pastry and puff pastry in my freezer after the holidays; unrolling a piece of puff overtop couldn’t be easier, or more impressive-looking, if you’re into that sort of thing.
Wouldn’t this make a lovely New Year’s Eve or Day dish? I thought so too. I may make another to freeze (without its pastry top – without the eggs it’s a perfect candidate for freezing) to thaw, cover and bake for an instant meal a month or so down the road, when snow and cold have lost their lustre and we need something quick and warming for dinner in the dark.
Chicken, Sausage & Mushroom Pot Pie
Adapted from the December 2008 issue of Bon Appetit, from the Fairmont le Château Frontenac in Quebec City. Double to feed a larger crowd.
2 Tbsp. each canola or olive oil and butter, plus a little extra
12 oz. crimini (baby bella) or button mushrooms, sliced
1 large onion or 5 shallots, chopped
1 Tbsp. chopped fresh thyme or rosemary
1 lb. Italian sausages
2 cups shredded leftover turkey or 1-2 lbs. skinless boneless chicken thighs, cut into 1″ pieces
1/2 cup Madeira or white wine
2 Tbsp. all purpose flour
2 cups low-sodium chicken broth
1/4 cup chopped fresh Italian parsley
3 hard-boiled eggs, peeled and thickly sliced (optional)
1/2 pkg. frozen puff pastry dough, thawed, or pastry for a single-crust pie
To make the filling, heat the oil and butter in a large skillet set over medium-high heat. When the foam subsides, add the mushrooms, onions and thyme or rosemary; sauté until mushrooms brown, about 8 minutes. Add the sausage, squeezed out of their casings, and sauté until no longer pink, breaking up with spoon. Add turkey or chicken, season with salt and pepper and if it’s uncooked, sauté until chicken is opaque, about 5 minutes. Add Madeira or wine and cook, scraping up the browned bits on the bottom of the pan, for about 2 minutes.
Mix the flour with about a tablespoon of butter or oil and add it to the pan along with the broth; bring to a boil. (Alternatively: shake the flour over the meat, toss it around to coat, then pour in the broth.) Simmer until sauce thickens, stirring often, about 3 minutes. Stir in the parsley and season with salt and pepper. Transfer to a baking dish and top with egg slices, if you like. (The pie can be made ahead to this point; cover and chill overnight and when it’s time to bake, cover with pastry first.)
When you’re ready to bake the pie, preheat the oven to 400°F. Roll out the puff pastry or regular pastry dough on a lightly floured surface until it’s about an inch bigger around than your baking dish; drape over the filling. You could leave it over the edge of the baking dish, or crimp it. Cut a few slits in the top and if you like, brush with some lightly beaten egg. Bake pie for 45 minutes, or until bubbly and golden. Let rest 15 minutes before serving.
One Year Ago: Slow Roast Beef on a Bun and Light Coconut Christmas Cake
December 28 2009 | chicken & turkey and freezable and leftovers and pork | 17 Comments »
Confession: I’ve been a little bit obsessed with those plum tarts we had in the Okanagan. If it were a celebrity, I might be hanging around in my car outside its house after dark, hoping for just a little taste. Every time I see a plum I wonder if I could similarly transform it, realize I probably couldn’t truly do it justice, sigh with discouragement and don’t even bother eating it because why would I want a stupid plum anyway if it’s not wrapped in pâte brisée?
And then there was a pork sale.
Stay with me here, I’m searching for a segue way.
Sunterra had a big ol’ pork sale this weekend in support of Alberta pork producers, who are still feeling the affects of H1N1 (Canada risks losing an additional 25 per cent of its pig herd in 2009) – they pulled a big freezer truck into the parking lot and offered to load 66 lbs of loin chops, roasts and whole tenderloins into the back of my Subaru Outback for the low low price of $139.
Of course I jump into these situations without considering the state of my freezer.
So when I got home from the dog park (which is right beside Sunterra), having tortured Lou by making him ride home in the back with all that pig, I had to make way for it in my freezer, which meant jettisoning anything that took up too much space – namely the frozen insert for my ice cream machine.
See? I told you there was a connection. Of course that meant I had to make ice cream while it was good and frozen, seeing as I won’t be able to freeze it again for at least 2 pork loin roasts. And I did promise you another batch of burnt sugar ice cream. And I couldn’t rightly eat burnt sugar ice cream all on its own – it really does need to melt a little bit over sweet-tart fruit, preferably with a crunchy, buttery pastry of sorts, like a peach-blackberry pandowdy. Or a plum tart. Sniff.
So I settled on a plum crumble, attempting to mimic the buttery pastry with a plain topping devoid of oats, nuts or anything grainy. It was good enough, but it was no plum tart. The burnt sugar ice cream made up for its absence. Or did it make me miss it more?
Burnt Sugar Ice Cream
adapted (and simplified) from the Martha Stewart Living Cookbook
1 cup + 3 Tbsp. sugar
a few drops of lemon juice (optional-to keep the sugar from crystallizing)
2 cups whipping cream
2 cups whole milk or half & half
6 large egg yolks
Put 1 cup of the sugar into a medium saucepan (one big enough to ultimately accommodate all the ingredients, keeping in mind that the cream will bubble up when you add it) and set it over medium-high heat. If you like, add a few drops of lemon juice – this will help keep the sugar from crystallizing, but it’s not necessary.
Let it sit until the sugar begins to melt, then swirl the pan occasionally, watching carefully so that it doesn’t burn (don’t stir it) until the sugar melts completely and then turns a deep amber. Remove from heat and whisk in the cream – it will sputter and froth, and some of the sugar will solidify – that’s OK. Put the pot back on the heat, turn it down to medium and add the milk or half & half and cook for a few minutes, until the sugar is completely melted. Remove from heat.
In a medium bowl, whisk together the egg yolks and remaining 3 Tbsp. sugar. Whisk in some of the hot burnt sugar cream, pouring it in a thin stream and whisking vigorously so as to not cook the egg yolks. Add about a quarter of it, then pour the egg yolk mixture back into the pot, pouring and whisking the same way. Put the pot back over medium heat and cook, stirring almost constantly, until it starts to bubble and thicken, and has the texture of thin custard (it should coat the back of a spoon – that is, leave a trail if you run your finger through it). Pour through a fine sieve into a bowl, cover with plastic wrap (I lay it directly on the surface to avoid getting a “skin”), and refrigerate until thoroughly chilled.
Freeze according to your ice cream machine’s directions. (If you don’t have one, ask Santa – it’s worth it just for this.)
Plum Crumble
15-20 plums, pitted and halved
2 Tbsp. sugar (or more, if the plums are very tart)
a shake of cinnamon
Crumble:
1 cup all-purpose flour (you could use whole wheat flour, or oats)
1/2 cup sugar
1 tsp. baking powder
¼ tsp. salt
a shake of cinnamon
1/3 cup butter
Preheat the oven to 375°F.
Spread the plums out into a pie plate, quiche pan or other similarly-sized baking dish, sprinkle them with sugar and cinnamon and toss them about a bit with your hands, then spread them out again.
In a bowl (or a food processor) mix the flour, sugar, baking powder, salt and cinnamon; add the butter and blend until crumbly. Sprinkle over the plums, squeezing the mixture as you go to create larger clumps. Bake for 25-30 minutes, until golden and bubbly around the edges.
Serve warm, with ice cream. Serves 6.
One Year Ago: Dark Fruitcake and Squash Soup
September 27 2009 | dessert and freezable | 27 Comments »
The phone rang at 8 this morning. I had been up for awhile, and was helping W make oatmeal. (To sum: no no no I can do it myself I CAN DO IT MYSELF! Insert dramatic throwing of self on the floor when I absentmindedly added the raisins. WHAT WAS I THINKING? It’s a good thing there was still flax seed that needed to be added is all I can say.)
Want to know who it was? It was Michael Smith. I can’t really tell you this story without name dropping, so there you go. It was Michael, losing his mind a little bit upon discovering his identity had been stolen on Twitter. Turns out some guy (or girl, as the case may be) has been posing as Michael, twittering about his family and even offering up the chance to meet him and come on set, since May. It only became obvious when the fake began bashing the Montréal food scene last night – so not cool – and so not Michael.
(To clarify: it’s not like I’m Michael’s wingman, the problem solver he calls when he needs things fixed. It’s just that I twittered him -aka the impostor- last night and he -the impostor- answered, and so I came up on the radar. Also, he doesn’t call every morning so that we can coordinate our outfits or to see what I’m having for breakfast.)
So it was damage control in PEI today, and I myself peppered my followers with alerts to Unfollow! RT! Fake! The good news is the real, actual Michael has been thrust into twitterland by all of this, and you can now follow him at @chefMICHAELsmth. (Yes, that’s him. NOT the other one.)
So Michael has been on my mind today. He really is a fantastic guy, just as he is on TV (not everyone is exactly like their on-air persona, I’m sad to say). I get to see him a few times a year, usually, and every November when we get together at the Jasper Park Lodge to eat and drink for a week. (You should come!) So I was perusing his website, looking for info on his (beautiful!) new book but distracted by recipes, and stumbled upon one for cauliflower soup.
Which made me pause only because I have a pot of cauliflower soup in my fridge, destined for dinner tonight. I made it yesterday to bring to my parents’ house, where my aunt and uncle are staying and where we all converged for dinner. It was good, but plain, like vichyssoise – I planned to stir some Boursin cheese into it, but then had none. Instead we crumbled blue cheese into the bottoms of the bowls before ladling the hot soup over.
I was wondering if it might benefit from some curry paste to liven it up tonight when I came upon Michael’s, which is curried, and made with orange juice. Mine was made with apples. I hastily threw the cauliflower directly into the pot; he roasted it first. (The only problem with this scenario: I’d eat so much of it straight from the pan that there wouldn’t be enough left for the soup.) So tonight, when I reheated the soup I stirred in a small glob of curry paste, and I simmered a withering red pepper with a splash of V-8 and took his advice to puree it (a hand-held blender worked fine – it was chunky, but delicious) and spoon it overtop. It was sweet and made a nice foil against the spicier soup. Halfway through my bowl I went back to the stove and dumped the rest of it overtop and swirled it in, the way I used to swirl chocolate sauce into ice cream.
Curried Cauliflower Soup with Apples & Red Pepper Purée
I should really have called this Cauliflower Soup Three Ways – you could do it without the curry and swirl in some Boursin cheese, or with crumbled blue, or leave the curry and add the red pepper purée, or come up with your own version. It’s just soup.
olive or canola oil, for cooking
1 onion, chopped
2 garlic cloves, sliced
1 tsp. – 1 Tbsp. curry paste (optional)
1 large cauliflower, roughly chopped or separated into florets
1 apple, peeled and chopped (or try a pear)
1 L chicken or vegetable stock (or half stock, half orange juice)
1/4-1/2 cup half & half
salt & pepper
Red Pepper Puree (optional):
1-2 red bell peppers, seeded and chopped
1/4 cup tomato juice or V-8
Heat a drizzle of oil in a largish pot and sauté the onion until soft; add the garlic and curry paste and cook for another minute or two. Add the cauliflower, apple and chicken stock, plus a little water if it needs it to barely cover the cauliflower, and bring to a simmer.
Reduce heat and simmer for about 15 minutes, until the cauliflower is very tender. Remove from heat and purée with a hand-held immersion blender, right in the pot (or do it in batches in the blender); add the cream and season with salt and pepper to taste.
And after, rifling through the fridge I found a forgotten slice of cheesecake – one Cheryl gave me from her BT appearance yesterday morning. It’s from a Honey Pear Cheesecake – made with puréed and chopped pears – and it’s wonderful. She has the recipe posted on her blog, so you’ll have to go get it. It would make a great Thanksgiving dessert I think, made with a gingersnap crust. (See Cheryl, I plated it? And garnished it with a flourish of honey, just like you said? Sorry I didn’t have the gumption to slice a pear fan – I just wanted to eat.)
And by the way, I apologize for the encroaching left sidebar – I had to widen it just for a week, as tomorrow we launch an online charity event sponsored by Quaker that runs until October 8th. And, well, you’ll just have to check in and see tomorrow!
One Year Ago: Chicken Fajitas
September 24 2009 | freezable and soup | 15 Comments »
Whether you call this a sno-cone or a granita depends on who’s eating it.
I don’t know about you, but my interest in a watermelon generally lasts until about halfway through it. Especially if it’s big, and especially if it’s woody and pulpy, in which case I vow to return it to the store, but never do.
In the past I’ve made watermelon lemonade, which is just fine. I always intend to make watermelon margaritas, but have yet to. This summer, however, I discovered that if you puree a watermelon (chunk it and blitz in the food processor – because it’s mostly water, it pulverizes effortlessly) and freeze it, you can scrape it with a fork to make pure-fruit watermelon sno-cones; known among fancy-food eaters as granitas.
Honestly, nothing could be easier than a granita. Freeze fruit puree, or fruit juice, scrape it with a fork so that you get a sort of crystalline snow, and voila. In midwinter, I have been known to leave half a latte in the car, then scrape it out and call it espresso granita.
I made a batch with cherries and watermelon, and a batch with a splash of prosecco. (This version would be granita, obviously, rather than sno-cone.) Not many recipes are so easily played with. Just remember this one rule: if it freezes, you can make a granita out of it.
But watermelon, straight up, makes a mighty fine sno-cone, without any need for day-glo syrup.
One Year Ago: Chocolate Éclairs with Espresso Mascarpone Cream
August 31 2009 | freezable | 10 Comments »
This morning, something came along completely out of the blue that crept up and whacked us behind the knees, shaking us all down to our foundations. It was one of those things you can’t imagine could just show up without warning while you’re sitting blithely at the dentist and everyone is going about their morning routines. But it does, and it totally trumps everything you had previously scheduled, even what was considered the important stuff.
And I can’t really share it here because it’s not my news to share with the world, and even though it affects us terribly I can’t really comment on much regarding our day, particularly the dinner situation, without giving it away. So I’ll just say that although everyone is (relatively) OK, we spent most of the day at the hospital and didn’t get home until close to 10.
Because hospital food is questionable at best, I ran home mid-afternoon and made a batch of brown and wild rice salad with dried fruit, parsley and pecans to bring back, along with some leftover roasted chicken. The two will likely be picked at over the weekend, here and there between home and hospital. We have a few barbecues to attend as well, so luckily we’ll be fed.
And when W and I got home (Mike is at Sled Island, not in hospital) I needed some form of warm carbohydrates, and so put a pot of water on to boil and rummaged through the freezer for a baggie of the peroghies Cheryl and I assembled awhile ago to boil up, then brown quickly in butter and eat by myself in bed with a book. (Or more likely, in front of my computer.) I didn’t look at the label because I didn’t much care which kind I got, but ended up with some stuffed with pear and ricotta – a combo I had forgotten she was inspired to make after I left. And yum. It’s a good thing I didn’t bother with the bacon. (Although come to think of it, bacon, pear and ricotta would be rather delicious.)
It was a welcome distraction from the events of the day, and made me ponder other sweet peroghy possibilities; strawberry-rhubarb, blueberry-maple-ricotta, roasted peach. Any would be fantastic crisped and browned in a buttery skillet and immediately laid over a scoop of vanilla ice cream, or topped with crème fraîche. (If I had to guess, I’d say these pears were finely chopped and sauteed in butter with a bit of sugar and cinnamon, then stirred into ricotta and used as a filling.)
Mostly what made me think of peroghies in the first place was the prize I found for Free Stuff Fridays. I picked up – yes I did – an original Peroghy Pogy, still in the package and with the old Woodward’s price tag. QUIK-N-EZEE! CERTAIN & SIMPLE! Even YOU can make dozens of peroghies from scratch for pennies apiece. Preferably at a long, floury countertop with people you love and a bottle of wine. Enjoy – life is too short to not savour every moment.
Speaking of unique ways with summer fruit, what are your favourite things to do with berries, rhubarb, stone fruits… anything sweet and juicy that says summer?
One Year Ago: Croque Monsieur (aka Mr. Crunch)
June 26 2009 | dessert and freezable | 43 Comments »
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