Chicken and Pastry

Here's a new one from the Southern food files: chicken and dumplings, aka chicken and pastry.

Southern dumplings are completely different from what we think of as dumplings, Mom -- these are more like big noodles, like those big 3" square Thai rice noodles except made out of soft wheat flour.

Most people here call the dish chicken and dumplings, but Lawson's dad's family calls it chicken and pastry, which I think is more descriptive. For me, the word "dumpling," what with that "plump" assonance and my own childhood memories, just describes balls of dough better than flaps of dough. So pastry it is.

There's another key way in which Southern chicken and dumplings is different from what we make elsewhere, and this difference took me longer to understand. It's not a soup, although it's made with a bunch of broth. It's got no vegetables, and it's not heavily seasoned. It's more like chicken and noodles in gravy. The dumplings thicken the stock as they cook, and you serve the chicken and dumplings on a plate or flat bowl with just some of the liquid, which clings to everything like a sauce. Vegetables go on the side.

Here is Lawson's grandma's recipe for chicken and pastry, as written down by his...maybe great aunt?:

Make a hole in the center of a pan full of self-rising flour. Get a cup full of hot chicken broth and pour it into the hole. Take a fork and stir it around and work in enough flour to make a firm ball. On a floured surface, roll it out thin. Leave it for a couple of hours to "die." (I don't know if you would have to "let it die" if you used all-purpose flour, we never had any of that kind at our house.) Then cut into thin strips and drop into the boiling pot of broth and chicken. Cook until tender, (not long).

Lawson remembers watching his grandma make chicken and pastry when he was a kid, so he was able to fill in some of the holes in that recipe for me. I also looked at Jean Anderson's instructions in the cookbook you gave me, Mom, and a few other places. And here's what I did:

Chicken and Pastry

Roast a chicken. Eat half of the meat at one meal. Pick the other half of the meat off and save for chicken and pastry.

Make stock with the carcass, skin, pan drippings, an onion, and a carrot.

(Most traditional recipes call for starting with a whole chicken and boiling it. But most traditional recipes are for tough old hens that have stopped laying, not grocery store roasters. Roasting the chicken first gives a bland bird more flavor. And since we can get several two-person meals out of one chicken, there's no use just boiling the whole thing.)

When the broth is finished, make the pastry dough:

• 2 cups white all-purpose flour -- I used White Lily.
• 1 and 1/2 teaspoons salt
• warm broth, not yet skimmed -- I used a bit less than a cup, but this will vary.

Mix together with a fork just until doughlike. Do not knead. Form into ball and set aside.

Skim the fat off the broth and heat the broth in a clean pan. Add salt, pepper, a fresh sage leaf, and a sprig of thyme and simmer for 10-15 minutes, long enough to get the flavors smoothed out.

Roll out the pastry on a floured counter. At first I rolled it to about 3/8", but Lawson said it should be still thinner, almost translucent, so I did that. Later we decided the thicker pieces were a bit better -- they had some chewy substantialness that was lacking from the thin ones.

Cut the pastry with a knife into rectangles about 2" x 3".

Add the chicken meat to the broth and bring to a boil. It should be a big rolling boil. I didn't like it and tried to convince Lawson to turn it down, though he swore he remembered a ferocious boil -- I thought it would make the broth taste scorchy and flat. But I understood after we put the pastry in that the broth has to be moving and hopping furiously to keep the pastry from sticking to other pieces. So do that.

Drop the pastry pieces one at a time into the pot. Once all the pastry was in, it probably took about 15 minutes for everything to cook through and the broth to thicken slightly.

We ate it with green beans boiled and then tossed with lemon zest and a touch of butter. Very simple, and perfect on a cold wet January night in South Carolina.

Back to the Stove

I cooked last night, Manhattan in hand, and felt immeasurably better.

I made a vaguely Thai stir fry of pork, tofu, onion, garlic, purple cabbage from the garden, red bell pepper, green beans, cilantro, and rice noodles. I marinated the pork first in sugar and fish sauce. For sauce I used a blend of fish sauce, chile-garlic paste, and water. Not bad. The whole thing was slightly greasy, but at least it was homemade and home-chopped and very therapeutic to make.

I don't know how it got to be late December. Fortunately, I get to spend the next week cooking. Should be fun. A buche de Noël, lemon meringue pie, tamales, huevos rancheros, Anasazi beans...I'll keep you posted.

Summertime Noodle Bowls

I think Lawson has made versions of this dish for you and Dad a few times. We made it a few weeks ago; now, looking back, I realize it was the last meal of summer. We had a cold snap...temperatures have dropped into the 30s at night...and while it's clear and beautiful here, it's definitely no longer the season for grilled shrimp and cooling rice noodles and bowls full of fresh herbs.

There are a few consistent ingredients in this dish; the rest depends on what you have around:

• rice vermicelli, soaked and then briefly boiled and rinsed
  
• leafy things: a mixture of fresh herbs and lettuces, especially Thai basil, mint, and cilantro
• crunchy things: bean sprouts, red peppers, sweet onions, and/or cucumbers, attractively cut
• meat and/or tofu, cooked some delicious way
• raw peanuts, chopped
• a sauce made of equal parts lime juice and fish sauce to pour liberally over everything

We just prepare everything and layer it in bowls. Lawson makes a big batch of the sauce in an old vinegar bottle and puts it on the table.

This particular time I bought some local shrimp and Lawson marinated them briefly in lime juice, lemongrass, and some other stuff. We grilled them with the shells on -- something I LOVE but which is not worth it unless the shrimp are really fresh and pretty. Lawson removes the slightly charred shells but I eat the whole shrimp, shell and all.

Green Curry with Flounder

Surprisingly, this was a last-minute collaboration on a night when I didn't think we were going to end up cooking anything.

I softened carrots, a few cloves of garlic, and red bell peppers in peanut oil, then added chopped lemongrass, keffir lime leaves, galangal, and Thai basil, all of which Lawson minced finely. Then I added a tablespoon of premade green curry paste and a can of coconut milk and half a can of water.

I simmered that for about 20 minutes.

Then I briefly boiled some rice noodles I'd been soaking. I seasoned the curry with fish sauce. I added 3/4 pound of flounder to the curry and cooked it for about 5 minutes. At the end I stirred in chopped cilantro and topped it with more Thai basil.

Stir-Fried Noodles with Shrimp and Herbs

We have Thai basil and regular basil growing steadily now (except for the Japanese beetles chowing down on them every night), and the All-Local Farmers Market always has local shrimp lately, so I made this herby stir fry. I marinated the shrimp in a little lime juice and fish sauce first. Then I stir fried onions, red peppers, and rice noodles (already soaked and cooked), then stir fried the shrimp and a bunch of basil, then added a sauce of soy sauce, fish sauce, and sugar. I served it over lettuce and more basil, plus some mint.

It was one of my more successful stir fries -- instead of the wok, I used a giant skillet, which made much more sense since we have one of those awful flat-top ranges. Since the skillet was bigger than the burner, I could move things on and off the hot part of the pan just like with a wok over a gas burner.

Tuna and Some Simple Sides

I'm going to give up buying fresh tuna for home cooking. Even when it's gorgeous, as this slab was, it's never as fresh tasting or perfectly textured as I hope. So it's not worth the expense, even just twice a year. I'll eat it in restaurants, where it will be better prepared and more carefully sourced.

But aside from the disappointing tuna, this was a delicious meal. I cooked soba noodles and tossed them with a super-quick peanut sauce I invented on the spot. We were going out and I didn't want to breathe garlic or green onions at anyone, so I just mixed a few tablespoons of chunky natural peanut butter with small amounts of soy sauce, sriracha, rice vinegar, and a dash of sugar, then thinned the mixture with some hot water. I tossed that with the cooked and rinsed soba noodles and some cilantro and served it at room temperature.

The green beans I boiled until they were tender, then tossed with lemon zest, dried lavender, tiny snipped pieces of candied ginger, olive oil, salt and pepper. This was an experiment based on an amazing lavender-lemon coffeecake I tried last year at Macrina, a bakery in Seattle. It worked. I will make them again.

Spicy Peanut Noodles with Raw Vegetables

Recently I bought a big chunk of tuna and grilled it. With it we had rice noodles with a sauce from Nina Simonds' Asian Noodles book. I added red pepper, sugar snap peas, cherry tomatoes, and julienned carrots to the noodles.

Here's the sauce, which she calls Chinese Peanut Dressing. Sure, it has Chinese ingredients, but it can be used in a lot of ways, Chinese and not -- basically anytime you need a peanut sauce that isn't coconut-milk-based.

Combine in a food processor:

- a chunk of peeled ginger, enough to yield a few tablespoons minced
- 2-5 cloves garlic (recipe calls for 8, and I love garlic, but even 6 was too much)
- 1 teaspoon hot chile sauce (like Sriracha) or more
- 1/2 cup peanut butter
- 1/4 cup soy sauce
- 3.5 tablespoons sugar (less if you use scary sweetened hydrogenated peanut butter like Jif, but I know you would never do that)
- 3.5 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce or Chinese black vinegar (I've never used the latter)
- 3 tablespoons sesame oil
- 5 tablespoons or more water or chicken broth

Birthday Dinner Party

We had some friends over Thursday for a pretty simple meal: grilled salmon, ginger-scallion noodles, and steamed sesame broccolini. And because it was a birthday dinner, and the birthday boy (what's the adult equivalent of that term? Birthdayed one? Birthdayee?) can't eat dairy, for dessert we had a dairy-free chocolate mousse cake with lemon sorbet and raspberries.

I made the cake the night before, and everything else was pretty easy to fix after work, so it was a good stress-free night. I wish the food had been a little more interesting, but we had fun. It went well with beer and Jameson.

Every time I take a picture of food, Lawson tries to stick his finger in the frame. So I'll give him this one. Let's hope it doesn't encourage him to greater heights of interference.

And as promised, Mom, here is the beautiful platter you and Dad gave me piled high with noodles. I love it.

Pot Roast with Beer and Onions over Noodles

This is pretty close to Julia Child's beer and onion pot roast recipe from Volume 1 of Mastering. I browned a big piece of lean, tough beef -- bottom round, I think -- in some oil. I then sauteed some carrots and several onions. Then I dumped it all into the crockpot with herbs (parsley, thyme, bay leaf, peppercorns). I made a small, light brown roux in the leftover drippings and added that to the crockpot. I deglazed the pan with a few bottles of Stella Artois (it's an annoying hipster pot roast, you see). Seven hours later, it was tasty. It was also extremely difficult to eat, what with noodles slithering back into the somewhat thin broth. If I'd had time, I would have reduced the broth for several more hours on the stove.

Caprese Corn Salad and More

Katherine made us a version of Caprese salad with the addition of grilled corn cut off the cob.

She served it with this fabulous platter of pork tenderloin wrapped with bacon and grilled by Greg; a bed of fried noodles; and chimichurri sauce.

Roasted Tomato Soup with Rice

This is roasted tomato soup, another recent recipeless creation. With a sunny side up egg on top, it made for a light but complete meal.

I destemmed about 12 tomatoes and squeezed the seeds out into the compost bucket. I then roasted them under the broiler, holes down, until they got blackened and juicy. Meanwhile I sauteed a Vidalia onion, then added the tomatoes and their juices, some chicken stock, some fresh basil, bay leaf, salt, and pepper. After it was heated and the flavors had mingled, I pureed it in the blender, then added some big basil leaves. I added cooked white rice to each bowl and put an egg on top.

The soup would have been better with some more interesting, less classic spices. Basil was fine and summery, but I think cinnamon, nutmeg, chili powder, and cilantro would be good, especially with the rice and egg.

It continues to be unbearably, record-breakingly hot here. The last night my parents were here we made a vaguely herby-noodly Vietnamese dish, another infinitely adaptable Lawson specialty: cold rice noodles, grilled scallops, mint, cilantro, Thai basil, red onion, cucumber, and red pepper, all sliced in a bowl and dressed with fish sauce, cider vinegar, and chopped peanuts. We passed the fresh herbs around on a big plate and drank a lot of wine.

Self-Portrait with Soba

Yesterday was Lawson's birthday. I knew I wanted to make him some carrot cake, because I only recently found out he is a big fan of it (who knew? I have always thought of carrot cake as really lame.) So I made some carrot cake and decided that homemade, with lots of nutmeg and trustworthy raisins, it's pretty okay, though still not favorite-worthy.

Anyway, at the grocery store Saturday I bought some wonderful fresh tuna. Good fresh fish is so rare here that I rearranged all birthday meal plans in order to cook it right away. And I knew exactly what I had to make with it: soba noodles. From scratch. I might have gone a lifetime happily buying soba noodles from the store, but my friend Ken (the one who works at the mill) gave me some soba flour last month, and I had to use it for something. I swear, these grain gifts from Ken force me into overambitious food experiments -- I suppose that's a good thing.

We do not have a good Japanese cookbook. I looked up soba noodle recipes online and learned that I'd need to use part wheat flour and part soba flour -- buckwheat has no gluten -- but never found an authoritative recipe. I ended up using 1.5 cups of wheat flour, 1.5 cups of soba flour, two eggs, salt, and water. The dough was nice and easy to roll out, but the noodles were a little firm and bland. So next time I think I will use a larger proportion of soba flour.

I tried to cut the noodles by hand according to some instructions I found online, but I abandoned that pretty quickly and pulled out the hand-cranked pasta maker.

Ronnie pulled down a noodle and ate it:

Cinnamon Beef Noodles

I've been working on a term paper, so I haven't been cooking for the last five days or so (or doing much of anything besides writing and thinking). But Lawson made his wonderful cinnamon-beef noodles. They are the perfect winter food -- lots of broth, slurpy noodles, thin slices of beef, spinach, and lots of spices. I keep meaning to give you his recipe...it's mostly from a Nina Simonds noodle book, but he makes it in the crock pot:

Saute very briefly (15-30 seconds):

6 green onions, coarsely chopped and smashed
6 cloves garlic, peeled and smashed
4 big slices fresh ginger
1 1/2 teaspoons sambal
2 cinnamon sticks
a few star anise

Throw the sauteed spices in the crock pot along with:

8-9 cups water
1/2 cup shoyu
2 pounds beef (use fairly lean beef -- it should be a light broth, not greasy)

Cook for 5 to 12 hours in the crockpot or 1.5 hours on the stove. Just before serving, throw the spinach in for ten minutes, and make a batch of noodles -- any kind of Asian or egg noodles will do. Put noodles, meat, spinach, and broth in each bowl. It's best to only add as much spinach and make as many moodles as you plan to eat for that meal, as over time the spinach tends to get slimy and the noodles soak up all the broth.

Yum.