Lemony Leek Pot Pie

I have to admit that I'm a sucker for a good pot pie. Whether it's my rampant Anglophilia or just the fact that I love breaking through pastry to get to savoury fillings, I'm not sure... but if I had to offer up one of my personal ultimate comfort foods, it would be some type of pot pie.

I'll often bake these for people who are going through a tough time, as pies freeze well and can be heated up in the oven whenever someone actually has an appetite. They're not best suited for funeral receptions, but instead are ideal for savouring alone or with a couple of friends; people in whose company we're totally comfortable, so we won't fret if we drop a few creamy peas onto our laps while eating.

Omnivore and vegan options are listed side by side below: when I make a chickeny pie for myself, I'll make one with tofu or other faux chick'n alternative for Sir N.
As a side note, if you or the people you're preparing this for don't have to eat gluten-free, please don't feel that you're required to make your own pie crust for this: you can absolutely use frozen pie shells, or puff pastry, or even a few sheets of phyllo instead. 

Gluten-Free Pie Crust Ingredients:

This pie crust is a variation on Anna Olson's flourless pie crust: I've just reduced the sugar so the crust can be used with a savoury filling.

• 2 cups brown rice flour
• 1/2 cup tapioca starch
• 1/2 teaspoon sugar
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup EACH chilled cream cheese and chilled unsalted butter (or 2 cups Earth Balance)
• 2 egg whites (or 1/2 cup aquafaba)

Directions:

Use a whisk to combine all the dry ingredients in a large bowl. Cut the cream cheese and butter (or Earth Balance) into 1/2 inch pieces, and work into the dough with a pair of forks until a crumbly texture is formed.

In a separate bowl, whisk your eggwhites (or aquafaba) until frothed up, and then blend them into the dough. Take care not to overwork it: it should all just be combined. Separate the dough into 2 balls, flatten them into discs, cover with plastic wrap, and chill for an hour or so prior to use.

Pie Filling Ingredients:

• 2-3 boneless, skinless chicken breasts (OR a brick of semi-firm tofu, OR a package of Gardein Chick'n Scallopini)
• 3 tablespoons olive oil
• 2 tablespoons lemon juice
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 teaspoon salt
• A few twists of ground pepper

Marinate the chicken breasts in the above mixture for at least an hour, then sear in a hot pan until browned on all sides. Set aside until cooled a bit, then chop into bite-sized pieces. If using the Chick'n Scallopini patties, just chop them up and season with a bit of lemon and salt.

Filling:

• 3 leeks, sliced thinly (white and pale light green parts only), washed, and drained
• 1/4 cup butter OR Earth Balance
• 2 cups chicken OR onion OR vegetable stock
• 1 teaspoon chopped fresh tarragon
• 1/2 teaspoon summer savoury (dried)
• 1/4 teaspoon thyme (dried)
• 2 tablespoons lemon juice
• 1 teaspoon grated lemon zest
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1/4 cup gluten-free flour
• 1/4 cup whipping cream OR heavy coconut cream
• 1/2 cup fresh green peas, or if using frozen, pre-thawed

Directions:

Preheat your oven to 350-375, depending on your oven. Grease a 6-cup deep pie plate/baking dish, or a few individual ramekins, depending on whether you'd like to bake one large pie or several small ones.

Heat the butter/Earth Balance in a large skillet on medium heat, and once it starts to bubble slightly, sautée the leeks for 3-5 minutes, or until the soften and start to look transparent.

Add the stock, herbs, lemon juice, and zest, and bring up to a boil. Add the chicken/tofu and green peas, and bring down the heat to low so that it simmers.

In a small separate saucepan, make a roux out of the olive oil and flour by whisking it together into a paste and cooking it until golden, and then add that into the simmering mixture, using a wooden spoon to combine everything well. Add the cream, and continue to simmer until the mixture starts to look glossy. Remove from heat.

***This is where you get to decide if you're going to make this a 1-crust or 2-crust pie. 1-crust is a good option for someone who wants to cut carbs. I like to make a 2-crust pie to make it a bit heartier. The only difference in preparation is that for a 2-crust version, you'll roll out one of the pastry discs and press it into your pie dish, pierce it slightly with a fork here and there, and pre-bake it for about 8 minutes to firm it up a bit. Then continue with the 1-crust directions as follows:

Pour this mixture into your deep baking dish, or those jaunty little ramekins. Roll out 1 disc of  pastry dough 1/4 inch thick and drape it over the dish. If you find that there's too much pastry hanging down the sides, trim it back a little bit, but leave enough that you can really seal the edges well. You can either freeze this leftover pastry if there's enough to use for something else, or you can cut out decorative shapes for this one and stick them onto your pie with a bit of leftover cream.

Cut a small steam hole in the crust, brush with cream or beaten egg, and bake for 30-40 minutes, or until the pastry turns gold and the inside mixture seems intent on bubbling out from beneath it.

As a side note, as delicious as this is as a pot pie, you don't have to put a crust onto it at all. It's just as gorgeous as a stew served over gnocchi or rice or dumplings or even just on its own. I've even been known to add some stock to it and make it a thick, creamy soup if I'm just making a batch for myself.

My usual suggestion to make it your own holds true: add more (or less) lemon, toss in some diced celery or carrots if you like them, or chopped tarragon, or big handfuls of shredded greens. It will be lovely no matter how you adjust it.

Hazelnut Cake with Apricot Preserves

I was a huge True Blood fan (for the first few seasons, at least...) and despite the cheesiness and the werepigs and fairymermaids and whatnot, I did appreciate the very real issues that some of the characters experienced. For me, one of the most poignant moments in the entire series was the scene that took place after Sookie's grandmother had been killed.
The power in this scene came from the fact that Sookie's grandmother had baked a pecan pie before she met her end, and it would be the last one she ever made. Sure, others could prepare a similar recipe, but theirs would never be quite the same, because it wasn't Gran who had made it. As Sookie ate, it was obvious that each bite was taken mindfully, with immense appreciation and gratitude, knowing that it would be the last time... and that each bite was filled with the love and care that her Gran had poured into that glorious, sweet pie.

I'm a big fan of mindfulness, and of eating with intent and care: savouring every bite instead of just hoovering in food whilst watching TV or otherwise being distracted. If we knew that this was going to be the last bite of food we'd ever eat, would we take the time to enjoy it? Are we really conscious about the source of each ingredient, and the care that goes into creating each dish? Even items that are mass produced have origins that are usually very human, from the people who pick cacao beans or vanilla pods to the farmers who wake at dawn, day after day, to sow fields of grain.

This is one of my family's recipes, and I'm delighted to share it here in the hope that others can enjoy it as much as we have. Much like our potato salad, this cake is prepared for any and all family gatherings, and you can rest assured that any funeral we attend has at least 2 of these cakes on the buffet table. As I continue to research funeral foods, I find that many cultures indulge in some kind of dessert after the dead have been buried so that sweetness counteracts the bitterness of sorrow and grief. I hope that this cake can do just that.

Please don't feel that you need to use apricot jam for this if you have a preference for another kind, as it's really lovely no matter which preserves you use.
For summer get-togethers, it's rather exquisite when made with lemon curd, peach jam, strawberry preserves, or even ice wine jelly. In the autumn and winter months, I've also made it with fig or plum jam, and added a bit of cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg to the batter to spice it up a bit.

For the Dough:

• 1/4 pound (1/2 cup) butter or Earth Balance
• 1 1/2 cups flour (for a GF version, I use Robin Hood gluten-free flour)
• 2 egg yolks 
• 2 tablespoons sugar (I use demerara brown)
• 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
• The grated zest of 1 lemon

For the Filling:

• 6 egg yolks
• 8 egg whites
• 1 cup powdered sugar
• 8 oz finely ground hazelnuts (or walnuts, or almonds, or any nut mixture you like)
• 1/2 small flask of lemon essence, or 1/4 tsp lemon extract
• 1 pack vanilla sugar
• A pinch of salt

Additional ingredient needed: apricot jam or preserves (or any other jam that you like better).

Preparation:

Preheat oven to 325F-350F, depending on your oven.

To make the dough:
Blend the dough ingredients in a food processor or mixer until a soft dough forms, then roll that out and press into a greased 9" x 12" baking pan, pressing the dough halfway up the sides. Spoon some preserves or jam onto this dough and use a spatula to spread it around the dough's base until it's covered with a thin layer. Feel free to add as much or as little of the jam as you'd like.

To make the cake filling:
With your mixer on high, beat the egg whites with a tiny pinch of salt until they form stiff peaks, then set that bowl aside.
In another, large bowl, blend the egg yolks together with sugar, then add the lemon essence, nuts, and vanilla sugar. Gently fold the egg whites into this mixture until blended, making sure not to agitate too much: it has to maintain its fluffiness. Pour the mixture onto the dough, and even out the top with a spatula.

Bake for 1 hour: the cake is ready when a toothpick inserted into the centre comes out clean when removed. If desired, dust with icing sugar once it's cooled.
To serve, cut into squares or wedges and lift them out of the pan one by one.

Note: I've also made a lower carb/lower sugar version in a bundt pan, skipping both the jam and the shortbread base in the process. If you go this route, be sure to really grease the pan well beforehand, and let it cool completely before attempting to get the cake out afterwards. 

Considering the number of eggs this uses, this cake is obviously not vegan. I haven't yet tried to make a version using aquafaba (aka chick pea liquid), but if you do and it works out okay, let me know! Be creative, make this your own.

Blessings to you. x

Black Bean and Corn Sunshine Salad

When my father died, our friends and neighbours were incredibly generous with their food gifts—so much so that we ended up freezing half of what was given to us, and we were able to defrost portions for several weeks' worth of meals. Those dishes were highly appreciated, but after 17 different variations (each) of tuna casserole and baked cheesy pasta, we were close to developing scurvy.

Thick, cheesy pastas and creamy casseroles are ultimate comfort food dishes, but not only are they the default foods that most folks prepare, but they're also incredibly rich and heavy. The salad recipe that I'm sharing here is as close as I've been able to get to re-create the one that was given to us by a friend of the family during those dark days, and it's pretty much the polar opposite of heavy and creamy.

Our neighbour was a lovely Mexican lady named Marisol, and she was like a little ball of sunshine when she gave us a bowl full of spiced beans, corn, and orange peppers... and I can't even begin to tell you how much we appreciated its brightness during that time. 

Not only is this salad a veritable symphony of flavours, colours, and textures, it's packed with vitamins and protein. Hers was also full of chopped cilantro, but since I'm one of only five people on the planet who like that herb, I chose to omit it here.

Ingredients:

• 2 445ml (15 oz) cans of black beans, drained and rinsed well
• 1 250ml (8.5 oz) can of corn kernels, drained
• 1 yellow, orange, or red pepper, diced (you can also use green pepper to cut down on sweetness)
• 1 medium tomato, seeded and diced, OR a handful of cherry tomatoes, seeded and quartered
• 2 small tomatillos, diced
• 1 green onion, sliced thinly
• 1 ripe avocado, peeled and diced
• 1 chipotle pepper in adobo sauce, minced finely (optional)
• 2 1/2 tablespoons olive oil
• 3 tablespoons fresh lime or lemon juice
• 1 teaspoon ground cumin
• Salt
• Black pepper

Preparation:

In a large bowl, combine the beans, corn, chopped pepper, tomato, tomatillos, onion, and avocado.

Drizzle with the olive oil, lime juice, and cumin. If you feel that it needs more acidity, add a bit more lime or lemon juice, or even a splash of wine vinegar. Add salt and pepper to taste.

If you'd like to add a bit of gentle heat to the salad, add in the minced chipotle, as it'll add warmth and spice without scorching any tongues. Most grocery stores carry it in their Mexican food section, but if not, you should be able to find it in a Mexican or South American grocery store.

You can also bulk this salad up to make it heartier by adding a cup of cooked quinoa or pasta to it, but it's really just beautiful and refreshing all on its own.

This recipe isn't paleo—no beans or corn allowed on that diet—and has to be completely re-worked to be AIP (autimmune paleo) compliant, as all nightshades are forbidden because they're inflammatory & cause a lot of grief. When I make this for myself, I have to eliminate the beans, corn, tomatoes, tomatillos, and chipotle... which pretty much just leaves the onion, avocado, and lime juice. Huzzah. Cumin is also a no-no with the AIP protocol, but I don't react badly to it; others might. Best to ask.

For an AIP version, I use diced, roasted sweet potatoes, chopped jicama, and diced cucumbers, and I also double the amount of avocado. Olive oil and lime juice are totally okay, but if I'd like a bit of heat without using any peppers, I'll add a bit of homemade horseradish sauce.

This is the kind of salad that can be adjusted in countless ways, whether to use what you have at hand, or to adapt to another's personal tastes. For those who prefer sweeter dishes, try swapping out the avocado for diced mango instead: the flavours meld rather beautifully. 

Chicken Soup for... Just About Everything

“Yes", said Cook. "That is soup that you are smelling. Times are terrible, and when times are terrible, soup is the answer."

- Kate DiCamillo (The Tale of Despereaux)  

Have you ever read any of those Chicken Soup for the Soul books? Basically, they're collections of short stories intended to lighten the reader's spirits and make them feel good. Some are funny, some are very heartfelt tear jerkers, but they inevitably leave the reader feeling better all around.

Chicken soup seems to have the same effect when eaten, which is undoubtedly A- what likely inspired these books' titles, and B- why just about every culture on the planet has some variation on this healing meal.

Many scientific studies have been done to sort out whether chicken soup really can treat a cold effectively (the answer is yes, apparently...), but ultimately, this dish's real power is in its soothing warmth and nutrition: every sip seems to soothe us right to the marrow.

When people are feeling broken and lost, soups such as these are like comforting hugs on the inside, giving strength as well as nourishment. Packed with vegetables—and hopefully plenty of garlic—it's an ideal soup for rebuilding strength when someone is run down.

As mentioned in my note about food substitutions, I make a meatless version of this soup for my husband using faux chicken made of tofu marinated in poultry seasoning, but if I'm just making a batch for myself, or for omnivorous folks, I use bones in the stock and shredded chicken breast and thigh in the finished soup. The vegan version of this soup is at the end of this post.

For the Stock (Standard Version):

Ingredients:

• Bones, skin, and leftover bits from 2 chickens* (you can add in some of the meat as well, if you like)
• 2 medium-large onions, coarsely chopped
• 2-3 leek ends (green parts), sliced
• 2 carrots, peeled and coarselly chopped
• 2 stalks celery + their leaves, coarsely chopped
• 5 or 6 garlic cloves, peeled and smashed
• 2 teaspoons dried summer savory, or 1 teaspoon fresh
• 1/3 cup parsley, coarsely chopped
• a pinch of thyme
• olive oil
• white wine, sherry, or cognac
• salt
• water
• 1 or 2 onion skins (optional)

Instructions

Heat a tablespoon or so of olive oil in a large, heavy stock pot, then toss in the bones and skin. Heat these on medium heat until everything goes gold and brown, and bits start to caramelise on the bottom of the pot. Deglaze those browned bits with an enthusiastic splash of wine, sherry, or cognac, using a wooden spoon or spatula to scrape merrily until they loosen. Add about 2 cups of water and keep scraping and stirring for a minute or so longer.

Add in the onion, leeks, carrots, celery, garlic, and herbs, and then add just enough water to cover everything by about 1 inch. The key to a spectacular stock is to really condense the flavour, so you don't want to add too much water or you'll dilute it. The onion skins will give the stock a lovely dark golden colour, but adding them is totally optional.

Bring this to a boil, then reduce the heat to low and let it simmer very, very gently for 2-3 hours. Remove from heat, allow it to cool a little bit, and then strain everything out. I start by using a slotted spoon to scoop out all the large bits, and then I pour the stock from one pot to another through a colander lined with clean cheesecloth. If you use this technique, squeeze the cheesecloth thoroughly so you get as much broth out as possible.

For the Soup:

• The finished stock, strained thoroughly
• 1 large onion, diced
• 1 medium sweet potato, peeled and diced
• 1 large carrot, peeled and diced
• 2 stalks celery, tough threads removed, and diced
• 3+ cloves garlic, minced or pressed
• 2 tablespoons fresh parsley, finely chopped
• 2 handfuls fresh spinach, shredded
• 1 generous cup of cooked chicken breast and/or thigh meat, diced or shredded
• Salt
• Optional: cooked pasta (egg noodles, acini di pepe, etc.), or spiralised vegetable noodles—as many as you like. 1 cup usually suffices for my tastes, but you might like your soup packed with more noodles. It's also lovely with cooked wild rice.

Instructions:

Heat the strained stock until it begins to bubble a bit, then add in the onion, sweet potato, carrot, celery, garlic and parsley. Bring up to a boil, then turn down the heat to low and let it simmer for about 25 minutes, or until the sweet potato and carrot are fork-tender.

Add in the chicken and spinach, and taste the soup to see if you need to add more salt. 
Allow this to simmer for another few minutes just to let the flavours combine well, then remove from heat.
If you'd like a creamy version of this soup (which I do, SO much), this is the point at which you'd add a bit of dairy milk/cream, pureed cannelini beans, pureed cauliflower, coconut milk, or unsweetened soy milk until it reaches your preferred level of creaminess. You may have to adjust salt levels accordingly.

If you're serving this immediately and you'd like to add pasta, I find that it's best to place the noodles in the bottom of each bowl and then ladle the hot soup over them. If you're going to take this soup to someone as a food gift, pack the pasta or rice in a separate container rather than adding them to the soup so they don't bloat and soak up all that glorious stock. Same goes for spiralised veggie noodles: they'll get soggy and fall apart in the soup, and we really wouldn't like that to happen.

My usual caveat stands: I don't really measure when I cook, so consider this a rough guideline, and please adjust it to suit your own tastes! (I've made an Asian-inspired version of this soup by adding sesame oil and tamari, swapping out the spinach for watercress, and using soba noodles, and my Spanish DNA occasionally cries out for a sopa de lima version with fresh lime and cilantro, so be creative and make it your own.)

Vegan Onion Stock Version:

To make the caramelised onion stock for the vegan version of this soup, slice 4 Spanish onions very thinly and toss them into a large, heavy stock pot along with a hearty glug of olive oil. You'll cook them on medium-low heat for 60-90 minutes, stirring only occasionally, until they're a deep, gorgeous brown.

Be careful not to let them burn! If you find that they're darkening too quickly, turn the heat down even lower. When you think they're ready, deglaze the bottom of the pot with wine or cognac, then follow the directions with the vegetables and other ingredients as listed in the standard version of the stock & soup above.

For the faux chicken, take half a brick of semi-firm tofu and shred it into strips with a pair of forks. Place these strips in a bowl and toss with about a teaspoon of poultry seasoning, a bit of minced garlic, and just enough vegetable stock to cover them. Let this marinate for 2-3 hours, then strain, and fry briefly in a bit of Earth Balance or olive oil until just browned. You'll add this to the prepared soup just before serving it.


* I keep bones and such in the freezer until I've accumulated enough to make a batch of stock, as it's a great way to use every part with respect.
Don't be alarmed if the stock you make with bones and skin turns gelatinous in the fridge: the natural collagen within is what makes this happen, and it'll liquefy again as soon as it's heated up.