A Pile of Pierogies

In my last post, I mentioned how a vat of cheesy carbs can work wonders to soothe one's soul. Once again, we're going to contend with a glorious mess of potato and cheese, but in a completely different form this time around.

My ethnic background is quite mixed, but one solid corner of it is significantly Slavic: Ukrainian, Russian, a bit of Czech thrown in there for good measure. Although I'm not a huge fan of Eastern European cuisine (ask me how much borscht I've eaten over the last four decades...), I have to admit that pierogies (varenyky) are always a pleasure to devour.

These glorious little dumplings have made an appearance at every family funeral I've attended, and I remember many sleepless nights sitting at the dining room table with my mother, filling and folding bite-sized versions of these for the buffet table.

Rich, Soft Pierogi Dough

Ingredients:

• 1/2 cup cold mashed potatoes (very smoothly mashed!)
• 2 tablespoons butter, softened (you can also use vegetable shortening or Earth Balance)
• 2 egg yolks, at room temperature (use very thick flax eggs for a vegan version)
• 1 3/4 cups flour (if you're using gluten-free flour, make sure it has xanthan gum added to it!)
• 1 teaspoon cream of tartar
• Pinch of salt
• Extra flour as needed 

(Filling ingredients to follow)

Preparation:

Mix the mashed potatoes, butter, and egg yolks thoroughly until the mixture is smooth and creamy. Then add the water. 

Sift the flour with the cream of tartar and salt, then stir into the wet mixture. This will form a very soft, sticky dough, so you'll need to stir in extra flour in 2 tablespoon portions until the dough no longer sticks to your hands as you work with it. (The dough should still be very soft and fluffy feeling.) 

Knead lightly until mixed throughly, then cover with a towel and let stand for 10 minutes.

Roll the dough to about 1/4-inch thickness, preferably on a floured surface: it shouldn't stick to your rolling pin as you work. Cut circles out of it with a round cookie cutter or drinking glass (for small pierogies, use a small juice glass). 

Place a round of dough in the palm of your hand, and use your fingers to flatten the dough just a little bit. Scoop a small spoonful of the filling in the centre of the round, fold it over to form a half circle, and use your fingers to press the edges of the dough together, pinching the centre closed first, and then working outwards towards the edges.

Make sure that the edge is sealed well, otherwise your filling will spill out while the pierogies are cooking. You can even use a fork to smoosh the edges together firmly, which will also create a lovely pattern around the edges.

Bring a pot of water to a low boil, and drop a few pierogies in at a time: don't cook too many at once! Stir very gently with the handle of a wooden spoon to keep them from touching the bottom, and allow to boil for about 5 minutes. They are generally done when they've puffed up a bit and float.

Remove the cooked pierogies with a slotted spoon, and place into serving bowls or dishes. Serve with sour cream (dairy or vegan), and if desired, chopped herbs like chives, green onions, sage, or parsley.
Note: You can also give them a quick fry in a little bit of butter or olive oil so they firm up a little and go a beautiful golden brown.

Fillings

Pierogies can be filled with just about anything you can imagine, savoury or sweet. I've stuffed them with traditional fillings like potato and cheese or sauerkraut, but I've also made fillings like roasted squash with pine nuts, or sautéed leeks with wild mushrooms. Pierogies with fruit fillings are gorgeous too: sugared blueberries are wonderful to use, as are peaches, strawberries, or pears. Below are a few different ideas for filling options, but don't hold back from using your imagination and being creative!

Potato and Cheese Filling (VG):

• 1 tablespoon grated onion
• 2 tablespoons butter or Earth Balance
• 2 cups mashed potatoes, allowed to cool
• 1 cup cottage cheese or ricotta (or vegan equivalent)
• Salt and pepper

Sautée the onion in the butter until it's tender and just starting to go transparent and golden. Combine it well with the potatoes and cheese, and season to taste with salt and pepper.

Sauerkraut Filling (V):

• 3 cups sauerkraut, drained and pressed to dry it out
• 1 medium onion, chopped
• 4 tablespoons butter or Earth Balance
• 1 tablespoon sour cream (dairy or vegan)
• Salt and pepper

Chop the dried, rinsed kraut very finely. Cook the onion in the butter until it softens, then add in the kraut and sour cream, and season with salt and pepper. Cook this on low heat for about 15 minutes, or until it's tender and the flavours have blended well.

Kasha (Buckwheat) and Mushroom Filling (V):

• 2 cups cooked buckwheat
• 1 cup assorted mushrooms, chopped finely
• 2 tablespoons butter or Earth Balance
• 1 small onion, chopped finely
• Salt and pepper

Sautée the onion in butter until it softens a bit, then add in the mushrooms. Stir well and cook on low heat until the mushrooms darken and release some of their liquid. Add the cooked buckwheat, remove from heat, stir well, and season to taste with salt and pepper.

Berry Filling (V):

• 2 cups whole blueberries, blackberries, raspberries, currants, or gooseberries
• Granulated sugar

Place as many berries as you can in the centre of your pierogie round, and sprinkle with as much or as little sugar as you like. Fold and cook as you would a savoury version, and serve with a sprinkling of cinnamon sugar. 

Enjoy!

Funeral Potatoes

My family lived in Montreal when I was a child, and the neighbourhood we lived in was incredibly diverse in terms of people's cultural backgrounds and religions. On our street alone, my mother's closest friends were Hindu, Muslim, Jewish, and Mormon, respectively, and all the neighbours would get together for everything from barbecues to birthday parties.

Naturally, being such a close-knit community, we also gathered together whenever there was a death in the family. Funerary customs may have differed slightly between our various cultures, but the main themes of togetherness and food were universal. The matriarch of the Mormon family died during the summer before we moved away, and everyone on the block attended her memorial service. The family itself was quite large, and with all of us in attendance as well, you can just imagine how many people filled up their backyard. The gathering overflowed to the next-door neighbour's yard and out into the street, and there must have been at least 20 enormous buffet tables that kept being replenished every time we cleaned them out.

Aside from the trembling mountain of jello desserts that shall ever be burned into my mind, the one dish that I remember from that gathering was an incredible cheesy potato casserole thinger that one of the 90 aunts prepared for the buffet. She must have made a dozen trays of the stuff, because as soon as one tray was scraped clean by the ravenous horde, another would swiftly take its place. I remember this dish so clearly because it was so very different from the types of potato dishes that my Nordic/Slavic relatives made: it was a creamy celebration of gooey cheese and potato, and I must have had three helpings of the stuff.

I'd forgotten all about it until I started doing research into funeral foods around the world and came across this recipe on a blog about common Mormon recipes. Go figure. Apparently the dish is affectionately nicknamed "funeral potatoes" because it always shows up at luncheons after Mormon funerals, especially in Utah. Lucky mourners!

This is an incredibly delicious dish, and when people are in mourning, calories don't count. True fact: every tear shed negates about 50 calories, so go for seconds. Fifths, even.

Funeral Potatoes

Ingredients:

• 6 tablespoons salted butter (or Earth Balance)
• One large bag of frozen, shredded hash brown potatoes
• 1 large Spanish onion, grated
• 1/4 cup flour (gluten-free or regular)
• 1 cup milk (dairy, soy, rice, or almond)
• 2 cups chicken or onion bouillon
• 1 1/2 cups grated Monterey Jack or Gruyere cheese (or Daiya Shreds)
• 1/2 cup grated old* cheddar or (Daiya shreds)
• 1 cup sour cream or Greek yogurt (or soy-based substitutes)
• 2 cups plain potato chips, crushed
• 2 tablespoons finely chopped green onions or chives
• Salt
• Pepper

*I've made this with smoked applewood cheddar, beer cheddar, and even jalapeño havarti. It'll be delicious no matter what cheese you use.

Preparation

Preheat your oven to 350 or 375 degrees, depending on how hot yours gets.
Grease a 9" x 12"baking dish with some extra butter or Earth Balance, and set aside.

In a large, non-stick skillet or stock pot, heat your butter (or substitute) on medium-high, and once it has started to bubble festively, add in your onions.

Turn the heat down to medium and stir regularly until the onions soften and begin to go transparent.

Add in the flour and stir to blend into the butter, and after a minute or two, add the milk. You may have to whisk this to eliminate any lumpy bits.

Use that whisk to incorporate the broth, increasing the heat slightly and whisking regularly until the mixture starts to thicken a little bit. Lower the heat even more, and stir in the grated cheese and sour cream, blending everything together thoroughly. Taste it, and adjust salt as needed. If you're so inclined, this is where you'd crack some pepper into it.

Turn the heat off completely and add the hash brown potatoes into the mixture, stirring with a wooden spoon to coat everything thoroughly. Transfer this into your baking dish, smooth it with a spatula, and then sprinkle the crushed potato chips and chopped green onions over everything.

Cover the dish with aluminum foil and bake for 15-20 minutes, then remove the foil and bake for another 20-30 minutes. You're aiming for a nice, golden-brown topping that has bits of cheese bubbling up through it here and there.

Remove from the oven, and allow to cool for about 20 minutes before allowing the masses to descend upon it.

Yeahhhh. That's a big dollop of creamy comfort food, right there.

Lead photo credit: jumanggy via Foter.com

Put Brandy in It

"'Drink this.' I dashed some brandy into the water, and the colour began to come back to his bloodless cheeks."

- Dr. Watson, from Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes 

Those of you who know me well are thoroughly aware of how much I love the Sherlock Holmes stories. Although I'm fond of the modern Cumberbatch depiction, Jeremy Brett's Sherlock is the one that won my heart, and I've devoured all the Arthur Conan Doyle stories so many times over that I could probably recite them verbatim.

One thing that I noted as I pored through those stories was how Dr. Watson doled out brandy at every turn, as though it were a cure-all for any illness. Has someone fainted? Give them brandy. They're sobbing in abject misery? Brandy. Elderly person complaining of something or other? Brandy them up.

Personally, I think this is a rather wonderful way of tending to various ills, whether physical or emotional. Below is my own recipe for a hot toddy. Although I make these when I feel a sore throat or a head cold coming on, I've also been known to cup them in my hands and sip them slowly when grave news has come my way. 

Ingredients:

• 2 generous tablespoons of brandy 
• 1 tablespoon honey, maple syrup, or agave syrup 
• 1/4 of a fresh lemon 
• 1 cup freshly boiled hot water 
• 1 bag of orange pekoe or other black tea 
• 1 thin slice of ginger (if desired) 

Preparation:

Bring a kettle of water to a rolling boil. 
Pop the teabag into a small pot and cover with a cup of water. Allow the bag to steep until the tea is as strong as you like it best. 
Pour the honey or syrup into the bottom of your favourite mug, then add the brandy and lemon juice, and stir together to make a glorious slurry. If you're adding in a slice of ginger, pop that in now. 
Add the steeped tea to this mixture, stir it well, and enjoy it while it's hot. 

These drinks have a way of warming people to the core after an autumn or winter funeral, when everyone is back inside and in need of soothing. They're great served with ginger snaps or shortbread biscuits, especially the rosemary cookies mentioned in a previous post.

Blessings to you.

 Lead photo credit: shutterbean

It's Chowder

“The lore has not died out of the world, and you will still find people who believe that soup will cure any hurt or illness and is no bad thing to have for the funeral either.” 

― John Steinbeck, East of Eden

Yes, it's another soup recipe, and you know why? Because soup is glorious and comforting and is a major theme of this blog—just check the URL. There will be many more soups in the future as well, I promise you, but this one holds a special place in my heart.

My apologies for the delayed post: I've been trying to publish at least one blog post a week, but I've been travelling and immersed in various bits of strangeness over the last couple of weeks and haven't been able to concentrate on my own writing. Mea culpa, dear readers.
The days are growing cooler, with nighttime temperatures that just barely skim above freezing. It's a nebulous time in which the days are still quite warm, but we can start to see our breath once the sun begins to set. I've set fires in the wood stoves almost nightly, and heaps of hand-knit, warm woollen socks have been pulled out of storage.

This soup has been a favourite of mine since earliest childhood, and I have made it on countless occasions when I have needed its comfort. 
I need its comfort this weekend. 
It's Thanksgiving weekend here in Canada, and although there is much to be thankful for, this is also a time of grief and loss for me: for what might have been, as well as for old wounds whose scabs have been torn open rather cruelly and needlessly. 

I've made several different versions of this chowder (chowdah, to my east coast friends!) to suit different people's dietary needs, but it's gorgeous in all of its many incarnations. I'm sharing the original (pescetarian + dairy) recipe that my family has been preparing for the past 40 or so years, with vegan and AIP-compliant variations listed afterwards.

This chowder is made in three parts and then combined.

Winter's Clam Chowder

Ingredients:

Part 1: Broth

• 4 cups water
• 2 cups firm white potatoes, peeled and diced
• 3/4 cup white onion, diced (or 1/2 cup onion, 1/4 cup thinly sliced leek whites)
• 3/4 cup carrots, peeled and diced

Bring the water to a rolling boil in a large soup pot, then add the potatoes, onions, and carrots. Bring the heat down to a simmer and cook until the vegetables are tender (usually 8-12 minutes).

Part 2: Sauce

• 4 tablespoons butter
• 4 tablespoons all-purpose flour (standard or gluten-free, your call)
• 1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper
• 1/2 teaspoon mustard powder
• 2 cups milk (or 1 cup milk, 1 cup half-and-half cream if you'd like this soup to be really rich and creamy)
• 2 cups old cheddar cheese, grated

Begin part 2 once you've set the vegetables to simmer.  Melt the butter in a saucepan on medium heat, then whisk the flour in bit by bit to make a good, thick roux.
Slowly add the milk, whisking quickly the entire time.  Add pepper and mustard, then add the grated cheddar in small quantities, using a spoon to stir the mixture in order to blend it evenly.
Once it's completely mixed, pour this mixture into the vegetable broth. 

Part 3: Clams

• 1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce (gluten-free/vegan as required)
• 3 cans (10 oz ea.) baby clams, including the juice
• 1 tablespoon fresh parsley, minced

Combine these three ingredients in a bowl, and then add to the soup pot. Use a large spoon to stir everything thoroughly, then allow to simmer for 5-10 minutes longer. 

You can serve it immediately (preferably accompanied by really good bread and a crisp white wine), but the soup is even better the next day once all the flavours have had a chance to combine.

Vegan version:

Swap out the clams for diced oyster mushrooms, and use coconut, soy, almond, or rice milk in lieu of dairy. You can add a bit of miso paste to get the briny umami note that the clam juice would have provided.
To thicken it, you could try using Daiya shreds, but I've never tried using them in this way. I have, however, made the soup thick and creamy by adding pureed white cannellini beans to it.

AIP version:

Use diced yucca, turnip, sweet potato, or rutabaga instead of white potatoes, OR eliminate that ingredient entirely and just pack the chowder full of other fish instead. I like to add chunks of white fish to mine, as well as crab meat and shrimp.
Coconut milk is ideal for adding creaminess as well as a tiny hint of sweetness. If you'd like this thickened, pureed steamed cauliflower works like a charm, though I've also used a roux made with a tiny bit of tapioca flour mixed with olive oil for that purpose.

I hope this soup comforts you and your loved ones beautifully.

Stellar Sandwiches for Funeral Feasts

Anyone who's ever attended a funeral buffet will undoubtedly remember the sandwich tray. Depending on the deceased's ancestry, one might find baked ham and cheese buns, mortadella on focaccia bread, pulled pork in a kaiser roll, or liverwurst on dark rye.

If you're planning a funeral or memorial service and are staring blankly at a wall trying to figure out what to feed everyone, take a deep breath, and know that you can depend on tea sandwiches. They're the ideal foods for such events because they can be eaten with one hand whilst chatting with friends and family members, and tend to be tidy enough that they won't erupt all over one's formalwear.
I was once served a slice of Swedish "sandwich cake" (Smörgåstårta) that was truly a thing of beauty: multiple layers of fish paste, shrimp, sliced hardboiled eggs, smoked salmon, cucumber, and cream cheese between thin layers of bread. That's a bit much for a funeral buffet, but it just goes to show that one can rise above the standard melty ham and cheese bake and add a bit of variety to a solemn affair.

I tend to prefer vegetarian fillings in funeral sandwiches, mainly because plant-based ingredients don't go quite as dangerously manky as chicken salad or smoked salmon if left out on a buffet table at room temperature for several hours.

When it comes to the breads and such being used, that's really a matter of individual taste + dietary requirements. For the sake of presentation, it's nice to use a variety of different breads in various ways, such as using pumpernickel to make rolled rounds, or stuffed mini croissants.

Knowing how difficult it is to find food that won't poison me when I attend events, I tend to be the one who brings gluten-free or paleo dishes that we Celiac folks can munch in solidarity.

GF breads can be found at most supermarkets and health food stores, and though paleo rolls are a bit time consuming to make, they turn out rather delicious. If you can get your hands on corn flour-based tortillas, those are also wonderful for GF wraps.

The fillings listed below are categorised as vegetarian with V, vegan with VG, and  Paleo with P. There's a lot of crossover, and of course recipes can always be adapted by swapping ingredients in or out. For example, one can use mashed avocado in lieu of any kind of mayonnaise, Tofutti instead of cream cheese, etc.

Chick'n Salad with Cranberries and Walnuts (VG)
Pulse drained, canned chickpeas in a food processor with a handful each of dried cranberries and walnuts. Mix in some vegan mayonnaise, season with salt and pepper, and spread between slices of grainy bread.

Cucumber, Dill, and Almond "Feta" Soft Cream Cheese (VG, P)
Make a batch of soft almond cheese, and spread it between slices of your favourite bread. Top with thinly sliced cucumber, a sprinkle of salt, a sprig of dill, and even some minced capers, if you so desire. I like this best inside very light, mini GF scones.

Artichoke Muffaletta (VG, P)
Drained artichoke hearts are put through a food processor with a bit of vegan mayonnaise or avocado, and then seasoned with salt, pepper, Cajun spice mix, and tabasco sauce. That's then packed into a mini bun and topped with chopped green olives, minced green onion, and thinly shredded lettuce.

Tomato Slices on Basil Pesto (VG)
A classic: basil pesto spread on whatever you like, and topped with a slice of firm, ripe tomato. Add a bit of salt and pepper, and you're golden.

Hummus with Beet Carpaccio (VG, P option)
Not only rich in flavour, the textures of creamy hummus and slices of sweet roasted beet pair together wonderfully. Use golden beets to avoid inevitable pink staining that red ones will cause. To make a paleo version of this, make hummus from sweet potatoes, cauliflower, or parsnips instead of chick peas.

Mushroom Pate with Dijon (VG, P)
Spread whole-grain Dijon mustard on light or dark rye, top with sliced mushroom pate and either a slice of bread-and-butter gherkin, or a bit of Boston lettuce.

Black Bean and Avocado Bites (VG)
This is great as a filling in mini croissants: use a fork (or food processor) to mash black beans into a thick paste, and season that with salt, pepper, chopped green onions, and a bit of lime juice. Slice open the little pastries, slather some of the black bean mash inside, and top that with a slice or two of avocado and a pinch of salt before closing.

Sliced Hard-Boiled Egg with Veggie "Caviar" (V, P)
These fancy appetizer bites are a nod to my Germanic/Nordic heritage: spread a bit of butter or Earth Balance on flatbread, top with a spray of arugula, a couple of slices of hard-boiled egg, and a small dollop of vegan caviar.

Provolone with Mango Chutney (V)
Mango chutney's tart/sweet combo complements provolone's creaminess in the best way imaginable. Spread multigrain bread with Earth Balance (or butter, or other vegan margarine) on one piece, mango chutney on the other, and sandwich a slice of provolone and a piece of frisée lettuce between them.

Roasted Asparagus Tips with Garlic-Herb Aioli (VG, P)
Roast asparagus tips with a bit of olive oil and good salt, then lay them out between slices of bread (or wrapped up in a tortilla) that's been spread with paleo or vegan aioli.

Olive Tapenade and Cucumber (VG)
The salty creaminess of vegan olive tapenade is a perfect contrast to the crisp sweetness of thinly sliced cucumber. This is great on focaccia bread or any other base that has some firm chewiness to it. (Note: If you use store-bought tapenade, check its ingredients as many varieties have anchovies added to them.)

Baba Ghanoush with Roasted Red Pepper and Zucchini Slices (VG, P)
Slice a mini pita pocket in half, spread baba ghanoush inside each half, add a layer each of roasted zucchini and red pepper slices, roll up, spear with a toothpick.

Cornbread and Guacamole Bites (V, VG option)
Slice mini cornbread muffins in half and fill with thickly mashed guacamole. Close so they look like mini green burgers.

Cauliflower "Egg" Salad (VG, P)
This one works for the autoimmune paleo diet as well. Combine steamed cauliflower florets with vegan mayo, minced celery, onion, salt, pepper, and even a pinch of turmeric for flavour. Pack into mini rolls or roll it up into wraps.

Ploughman's (V)
Slather Branston Pickle (or other favourite sandwich spread) between hearty bread slices along with with sliced aged cheddar and finely chopped pickled onions.

Tofu Banh Mi Rolls (VG)
Take mini rolls and fill them (generously) with vinegar-marinated carrot and daikon radish matchsticks, fried tofu strips, and lettuce.

Almond Butter with Apple (VG, P)
This is a great option for kids attending the funeral, as it's one they probably won't feel intimidated by. Spread almond butter on your bread of choice, top with peeled, thinly sliced red or yellow apple, and a drizzle of honey or agave syrup.

Cashew Cream "Cheese" with Roasted Strawberry Slices (VG, P)
A little fussy to make, but well worth the effort. The cashews need to be pre-soaked to make the "cheese" and the strawberries will need to be pre-roasted, but once the prep work is done, you can spread everything between slices of good, firm bread and dig in.

A Broth to Soothe a Wounded Heart

Sorrow and mourning can take many forms, as death and loss can come in so many different guises. Sometimes it isn't the physical death of a loved one that we mourn, but the end of something we cherished. The loss of a job, or a friendship, or an intimate relationship, or even a lost pet. So many experiences tear holes into us, and we have to practice a fair bit of self care in order to heal those wounds so they don't grow and fester.

I've mentioned that one of the most nourishing foods I've come across yet is bone broth, as it isn't just a soothing internal hug, but also replenishes a body right down to the cellular level. It can be used as the base for a heavier soup, or just enjoyed on its own by the mugful; something that I try to do as often as possible, especially during the autumn and winter months. Quite often, a cup of this broth first thing in the morning does more to wake me and replenish my spirits than half a dozen cups of coffee ever could.

When making a healing bone broth, it's important to use bones from organically raised (preferably grass-fed) livestock, as you're aiming for the most nutrient-dense, healing food possible. Antibiotics and heavy metals are drawn into bones and marrow through the animal's bloodstream, so if you make a broth from conventionally raised animal bones, you'll be ingesting all those chemicals as well.

In addition to avoiding those chemicals, there's another vitally important reason for choosing bones from ethically raised animals, which was described so perfectly by my friend Cat Lane that when I asked, she granted me permission to quote her directly:

"There's another reason for this choice - because the bones of animals raised in hell and killed in anguish are not good medicine, not for our bodies and not for our souls. I make grief soups and teas as well, and for myself they don't contain animals at all, but plants raised with love and harvested with gratitude. That's not because I'm vegan - I'm not - but because no matter how hard I try, I can't not feel the animals' journey, when I am taking it's body into my own. And even 'happy cows' probably didn't want to die. That said, I make bone broth for dogs and all kinds of cat and dog foods with other animals, and the process of nurturing others soothes my own chronic spiritual pain. As long as it comes from animals that lived and died reasonably. We can't change the cycle of life, but we can engage in it with gentleness and wisdom and respect."

Bone Broth

• 3-4 pounds of beef, bison, elk, deer, or moose bones (an assortment of meaty and marrow bones is ideal)
• 1 medium-large onion, peeled and chopped coarsely
• 1 large carrot, peeled and diced
• 1 celery stalk, diced
• 1 small leek or 1 large bunch of green onions, washed and chopped 
• 2 garlic cloves, peeled and smashed
• 2-3 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
• 1 generous pinch of summer savoury, either dried or fresh
• 1 teaspoon fresh parsley, chopped
• Good salt (I use pink Himalayan salt, but sea salt works as well)

Preparation:

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.
Arrange the bones in a baking dish, and roast for 30-45 minutes, or until the marrow softens and begins to melt.

Place the bones in a large soup pot (or crock pot, if you have one). Cover with water until they're submerged by a couple of inches, add the vinegar (which will help to draw the nutrients out of the bones) bring to a boil, and then reduce to a low simmer.

After about 4 hours, add the rest of the ingredients, and add more water until everything is just covered. Let this cook for at least another 8 hours, though I'd recommend letting it simmer for another 12. Basically, the longer you let this simmer, the more nutritious the broth will be, and the more flavour will be developed therein. 

To strain your stock, use a large, slotted spoon to remove the bones and the larger vegetables, then strain the liquid into a large bowl. Add salt to taste, but try not to make it too salty: you're aiming for nourishment more than just flavour content.
The broth can be transferred to glass Mason jars or even a large pitcher, and transferred to the refrigerator once it's cooled to room temperature. Once cooled, a layer of fat will have accumulated and hardened on the broth's surface: you can scrape this off and keep it in the freezer to combine with seeds later to feed wild birds.

Don't freak out if/when your broth turns gelatinous: this is a good thing, as it means that collagen has been drawn out of the bones. That collagen is immensely healing for everything from sore throats and stomach ulcers to leaky gut, arthritis, and other types of joint inflammation. As soon as you heat the broth, the gel will dissolve back into liquid so you can sip it to your heart's content.

I've found that the best way to enjoy this broth is to do so mindfully: to sit quietly and focus entirely on each sip, appreciating the nutrients that are being drawn into my body without any distractions like TV or music or anyone else around me. Doing so brings a sacredness to this ritual, and that, as well as the broth itself, is immensely healing.

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.

The Ubiquitous Mr. Jello Mould

There seems to be one particular dish that has made its way to just about every funeral buffet I've ever attended, and that is the jello mould. 

From the mountains of fruit- and marshmallow-filled offerings brought by Mormon neighbours to the creamy coconut jelly I saw quivering at a Buddhist Chinese ceremony, the ubiquitous jelly seems to have infiltrated mourning services worldwide.

Occasionally referred to as a jello salad (for reasons I have yet to sort out, as I tend to see salads as vegetable dishes notably lacking in jiggle), these voluptuous variations had their heyday in the 1950s, and have yet to disappear from mainstream culinary culture. 
Whether it's someone's great aunt who makes the dish that has been her signature fare for the past 60 years, or a hipster who has discovered their parents' novelty cookbooks and has made something for nostalgia's sake, someone will inevitably show up with one of these babies to either the absolute delight or chagrin of everyone in attendance.

I did a recent poll on Facebook to gauge people's reactions to these dishes, and they were pretty much split down the middle as to whether they considered them treats or travesties. 

The ones who were nauseated at the mere thought of eating them shared horror stories about horseradish and cranberry concoctions, or shredded cabbage suspended in orange wibble. In contrast, the fans ululated praise for canned pear slices in lime gelatine, or citrus celebrations of layered yellow and orange packed with pineapple chunks and mandarin slices, respectively.

Personally, I've always associated Jello with being sick, as it was a mainstay in my family's fridge whenever one of us was ill... which was often. 

I suppose that memories such as those can be very comforting to many people, and loath as I am to admit it, it's a food that's fairly easy to knock back when one has a knotted belly or a sore throat.

Since I really can't put together a collection of funerary dishes without including a Jello something-or-other somewhere, I shall share a recipe for a wobbly sangria ring.
Why?
Because quite frankly, both funerals and gelatine desserts are far more tolerable when there's a copious amount of alcohol involved.

Sangria Jello Mould

Ingredients:

• 2 packages (3 oz each) of strawberry, raspberry, or cherry gelatine powder
• 3 1/2 cups sparkling white wine OR 1 1/2 cups white wine and 2 cups club soda*
• 1 cup fresh strawberries, hulled and quartered
• 1 cup fresh blueberries, checked for stems
• 1 cup fresh mixed blackberries and raspberries
• 1/2 cup black, red, or white grapes, halved 

*If you absolutely have to make this alcohol-free, you can swap in a high-quality grape juice instead of the wine. 
I suppose. 

Preparation:

Grease a 6-cup ring mould or bundt pan with cooking spray, and set aside.

Heat wine to boiling in a saucepan, remove from heat, and stir in the gelatine powder. Use a whisk to ensure that all of it dissolves, and then set it aside to cool for about 10 minutes. Refrigerate until it just starts to firm up a little bit: maybe 30-40 minutes at most.

Remove from the fridge and gently fold in all the fruit. Use a spatula to transfer this into your prepared ring mould, taking care to distribute the fruit as evenly as possible. Pop it back into the fridge and cool for at least 6 hours (although overnight is best).

Invert over your serving plate and shake gently to dislodge it. Be sure to cheer heartily when it plops out looking like an exotic, if rather wobbly jewel.

Note: nostalgic food can be great, but only if significant effort is made to make it appeal to modern palates. 

If whatever gelatine thinger you choose to prepare contains meat, celery, cottage cheese, olives, pimentos, tuna, or eggs, you will be shunned by your family members as well as your friends, and you will deserve every moment of it.

A Glorious Mess O'Greens

Leafy green vegetables don't normally spring to mind when most people think of comfort food, but ohhh, they can be. Silken and buttery, deeply braised greens have a wonderful earthy flavour with a slight sweetness that's amplified by the garlic with which they're cooked. 

Folks in the Southern States have elevated the simple art of braising leafy greens to an art form, and I had the pleasure of sampling this gorgeous dish while on a road trip through that region. My memory is a bit fuzzy, but I remember one little restaurant somewhere in North Carolina in which I tried slow-cooked greens for the first time. 

I can't even remember what they were served alongside (maybe it was some kind of baked macaroni dish?), but the vegetables were absolute poetry. That dish was a lot oinkier than the one I make, being full of pork hock and bacon and such, but I've found that I prefer a vegetarian version—if I'd like to evoke a bit of that Southern flavour, I just add a few drops of hickory smoke to the cooking liquid.

You can use any leafy green for braising, but it's really best for the more robust vegetables that need a fair bit of time to break down. Some people like to use just one type of green at a time, like collards, but I like to use at least three different types to create interesting flavour profiles. 

The beautiful mess o'greens simmering in my mini crock pot in the photo above contained a mixture of kale, collards, radish and turnip greens, and green bok choy.
The key really is to slow-braise them until they break down to a beautiful creamy texture. As far as I'm concerned, this dish is done when the vegetables fall apart if you so much as look sternly in their direction.

Braised Greens

Ingredients:

• A few large handfuls of assorted greens (approximately 1 1/2 pounds' worth, if you're weighing them)
• Olive oil
• Butter or Earth Balance
• Garlic (I mince 3 or 4 cloves, but as many or as few can be used as you like)
• Lemon
• Good salt
• Pepper
• Vegetable stock

Preparation:

Although some people swear by blanching their greens in a pot of water before slow-braising them, I take an easier route: I just toss the greens into a large colander and pour a kettle's worth of boiling water over them, then spray them down with cold water. Easy peasy. 

Those then get chopped very finely (chiffonade! great word, and lovely ribbon effect) and set aside. Pour a few generous glugs of olive oil into a large pan or wok, as well as a spoonful or so of butter or Earth Balance margarine. 

Warm this on medium-high heat, and then add minced or crushed garlic and your chopped greens as well as a few pinches of salt and toss all of that around together for a couple of minutes.

If you're using a crock pot, this is the point at which you'd transfer everything from the pan into the pot, add a couple of splashes of vegetable stock, and cook it on low heat for about two hours. 

If you're using the pan method, just add a bit of stock, cover with a lid, turn the heat down low, and let it braise for an hour, stirring occasionally.

Once it has cooked down to a soft, slurpy mass, splash a little bit of lemon juice into it and adjust salt to taste. If the greens end up being a little wetter than you'd like, let them strain in a colander for 10 minutes or so. The leftover liquid can be frozen and added to the next batch of soup stock you make.

I like to just eat this on its own, but it's also lovely served over gnocchi or even scooped up with toast. I'm adding this dish to my list of funeral recipes not only because they're a great respite to the mountain of heavy carbs that inevitably make it into care dinners, but also because they are absolutely delicious... and great food does wonders for lifting one's spirits. 

Besides, since cooking these vegetables makes them easier to digest, their nutrient value goes up significantly: the vitamin A, calcium, and magnesium in cooked collards, mustard greens, etc. are great for strengthening a weakened immune system and building up new strength.

If you're preparing this dish as part of a meal train for someone who has suffered a loss, you can always present it in a mason jar decorated with a cloth top of some sort, or even a pretty microwave-safe dish that has a lid on it. Presentation is important even if it's just being dropped off, neh?

<3

A Nod to Quebecois Cuisine: Meatballs, but Sans Cloves

Today is Saint Jean Baptiste day here in Quebec (Fête de la Saint-Jean-Baptiste), and is the biggest annual holiday celebration in the province. Coinciding with Midsummer, it was a huge festival in France from the 15th century onwards, and the traditions from that lovely country were brought over by settlers who began celebrating it here in the early 1600s. In honour of all things Quebecois, today's recipe honours a staple of our province's cuisine: les boulettes (meatballs).

Meatballs often make it to funeral buffet tables as they're bite-sized little protein bursts as well as delicious comfort foods; they fortify even as they satiate. The ones I've come across at family gatherings usually have a Swedish or Ukrainian lean, with lingonberry sauce served with the former and sour cream with the latter.

My variation on these delicious niblets differs from standard Quebecois fare, as I cannot warm up to the spices used in the traditional recipe: allspice, cinnamon, and cloves are the key spices used in tourtiere, creton, and the usual ragoût de boulettes (meat pie, pork pate, and meatball stew, respectively), but I can't wrap my head around using those spices for savoury dishes outside of Moroccan or Indian cuisine.

To me, they'll always be associated with mulled wine and gingerbread. If you'd like to use those spices to make it truly traditional, you can find an original recipe here. I've gone with French herbs and flavours instead, but do play around with seasonings to make it your own.

As an example, I like to add chopped olives or capers to mine, while others might mix in chopped bacon, shredded cheese, or even mushrooms.

Most of the meatball recipes I've come across use breadcrumbs or wheat flour as a binding agent, but this is an AIP paleo version using just a whisper of tapioca starch for that purpose.

I'm skipping a vegetarian/vegan version of this recipe because there aren't any meat substitutions for these that won't poison me (like seitan...), and as such I can't vouch for how they might turn out.

Ingredients:

• 1 lb ground beef, pork, turkey, or chicken
• 1/2 of a small Spanish onion, minced
• 2-3 garlic cloves, crushed or minced finely
• 1/2 cup of flat-leaf (Italian) parsley, chopped finely
• 1 teaspoon dried thyme, crumbled
• 1/2 teaspoon dried summer savoury, crumbled
• 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano, crumbled
• 1 teaspoon tapioca starch

Preparation:

Combine all of the ingredients well in a large mixing bowl, and refrigerate for an hour. 

Preheat your oven to 400 degrees (or 375 if your oven runs hot). Measure out tablespoon-sized portions of the mixture and roll into meatballs, placing them on a parchment-lined baking sheet or greased glass baking dish as they're formed.

Bake for 25-30 minutes, or until they're no longer pink in the centre when you cut into them.

Traditional boulettes are served in a thick brown sauce, but if you're making a large batch of these for a memorial gathering, it's generally best to skip the gravy because someone will inevitably end up wearing it.

If you'd like to create a sauce of some kind that folks can spoon over the meatballs, persillade is a light, refreshing option made with fresh parsley and vinegar that's very easy to make, or you can also make tzatziki which, although not French, is rather gorgeous and one of my favourite dips:

Ingredients:

• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 2 tablespoons lemon juice
• 2 garlic cloves, crushed
• 1 cup plain yogurt (coconut yogurt for AIP paleo, dairy or soy otherwise)
• 1 cup cucumber, peeled and either grated or minced
• 1 tablespoon fresh dill, chopped finely
• Sea salt

Preparation:

Combine all of the ingredients in a food processor, or just whisk them together in a mixing bowl. Season with salt to taste, and refrigerate for a couple of hours before serving. If you use coconut or soy yogurt, it can stay out at room temperature safely for hours.