Chicken & Dumplings

It was cold and windy this morning. Well, not really cold, more like chilly. But it was windy. And since it was the first really chilly morning we've had this autumn, I decided to push the issue, and declared it a soup day. Initially I had set my sights on a hearty gumbo, with shrimp, andouille, chicken, and maybe catfish. When I got to the grocery store though, they didn't have very good shrimp, or catfish, but they had 10 lbs. of chicken leg quarters for $5.00. So Gumbo gave way to chicken and dumplings. I usually toss in a couple slices of lemon, but again, the only lemons I could find were in 2 lb. bags, and I didn't need that many. It's not that I couldn't find uses for them, I just couldn't find uses for them before they turn bad. But I had a couple limes at home and figured they'd substitute nicely. (which they really did, I may start using limes by default on this one)
I'm sure there are a million ways to make chicken and dumplings, but this is the way I do it, which really works well on a cold day. This recipe is adapted from Southern Living's "Cooking across the South".

5 lbs. of chicken. (dark meat works best)
1/2 an onion, sliced
1 stalk of celery, with leaves if possible, chopped.
2 slices of lime (or lemon)
2 bay leaves
6-7 whole peppercorns

Arrange a layer of the chicken pieces in the bottom of a pot. Add about half the onions, celery, a slice of lime, a bay leaf, and some of the peppercorns. Another layer of the chicken, and the rest of the aromatics, and seasonings. Cover all that with water, and bring it to a boil for 10-15 minutes. Let that cool. I usually take the chicken out with tongs, and put it in a collander. Then run cold water over it. When it's cool enough to handle, you want to get the skin off, and de-bone the chicken, returning the meat to the stock. Once you have all the meat back, let it simmer, covered, for about 2 hours. Meanwhile, you can make your dumplings. After 2 hours, add the dumplings, and let simmer, covered, for another 30 minutes.

For the dumplings I use:

2 cups flour
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
1/3 cup shortening
1/2 cup milk with 1 egg mixed in

Mix your dry ingredients, cut in the shortening, and add the milk and egg mixture a little at a time until you have a fairly firm dough. Roll it out to about 1/4" think, then cut your dumplings. I usually use a pizza cutter and cut 1" strips, then cut on a diagonal to get diamond shaped dumplings.

Simple Pleasures

It's November. I never got those garden pics posted, and my digital camera is on the fritz. My chiles did well though. I've several baggies of roasted, peeled anaheims and poblanos, some of which have been selected to go into tonight's advance batch of machaca. The act of picking, roasting, sweating, and peeling chiles is one that I find very relaxing. I also grew some serrano chiles this year, as I did last year. One batch I pickled as escabeche, and the next batch I dried over hickory smoke. Funny thing about chiles, the same botanical pod will go by any number of names depending on what's been done to it. For example, jalapenos, smoked and dried, are chipotles. A poblano chile, when dried, is called an ancho chile. I don't know what you call a smoked serrano chile, so I'm calling it chipotle. I do know that they're very tasty, and add a fantastic dimension of flavor to a lot of dishes, and I'm a little bit proud to have grown and made my own.

My best friend was down this past weekend for a visit. It was good to see him. It's always good to spend time with him. I busied myself Friday morning with sundry errands, and on the way home stopped by the local fish market, and got a pint of shucked oysters, and a dozen blue point oysters. They had Chincoteague, Choptank, Prince Edwards, and Blue Points. The locals here can be particular about their oysters. Seriously. And I'll admit, I've never had an oyster that can compare to an east coast oyster. The blue points I bought came from Long Island, so they're not exactly local, but they're close enough that the trip didn't bother them much. I love it when the fish monger taps the shells, I leave much more confident that all 12 will be good. Next to the fish shack, there's a liquor store. I stopped in and got a 6 pack of Belgian white beer.

That evening, Joe and I stood over the kitchen sink, shucking and slurping some of the most delicious oysters I've had in a while, and washing them back with some delicious white beer. Here's the beauty of these oysters, -- they don't require anything. No sauce, no condiments, nothing but the oyster -- heck, it even comes in it's own dish! It's the essence of simplicity. Good friends, excellent food, no fuss. Friday was good.

White Barbeque sauce

I happen to be in Huntsville Alabama this week on business. I made a promise to myself that the next time I was down here, I would make it a point to visit Big Bob Gibson's in Decatur. I love a good barbeque as much as the next guy, but I'm not stone cold crazy about barbeque. However, this pilgrimage was the result of a conversation I had with a colleague who lives down here.
Some months back at a conference in Virginia Beach, this colleague was making some announcements on the last day of the conference. Among other things he announced that he'd discovered a terrific fish house. His words were "I've been here 4 days and eaten there 4 times." At the first break I admonished him. I said "That was a first-day announcement, not a last day announcement." He mentioned that when he travels, he likes to sample the food for which a region is known. I try to follow that line of thought as well. Among other things, Kurt mentioned that some folks had taken him somewhere for chicken wings, and while he enjoyed them, he thought they'd be better with some "white sauce", and asked if I'd ever heard of white barbeque sauce. I hadn't, but a few minutes on Google and I found that it's quite popular in the northern Alabama region, but not that well known elsewhere. This is a real shame, because it's really too good to be kept a secret. Kurt said the next time he was in Decatur, he'd pick up a bottle and mail it to me, and he was good to his word.
I, being somewhat impatient, tried a few recipes I'd found on the web. It's not that tricky, mostly mayonaise and vinegar, and lots of black pepper. Some variations from there, you might add cayenne, sugar, lime, etc... But the basic sauce is very simple, and very good.
Well this evening, I found my way to Decatur, and got lost trying to get back to Huntsville, but for all the extra driving and stopping to ask for directions, the food was absolutely worth the little inconvenience. Between the three of us, I think we sampled most of what was available. Chicken, ribs, and brisket. I had half a chicken with as much of that delicious white barbeque sauce as I could eat. Exercising considerable restraint, I had the first bite of chicken with no sauce, to see how it tasted on it's own. I could've eaten the entire thing without a drop of sauce. It was that delicious. The ribs were fantastic too. I can only tell you second hand that the brisket was top-notch, because the colleague who ordered the brisket wasn't sharing. But he said it was awesome. He also said before we left, that he didn't care for ribs. At the restaurant, he mentioned that if he could be sure that ribs would always be cooked like these were, he'd be a convert.
I don't have any pictures to share, but you can order this wonderful white barbecue sauce from
Big Bob Gibson's online.
Or you can make your own using this recipe: Alabama White Barbecue Sauce.

Not Dead, just busy

Well, sorry for the prolonged absence, folks. It's been not quite 2 months since my last post. The problem, quite simply stated, is that real life interfered with cyber-hobbies the last 2 months. But it hasn't been a total wash -- we've been doing a fair amount of cooking, and for the last 2 weeks, planting our ingredients for the mid to late summer.
I think I probably rushed the season a bit, but the herbs and most of the vegetables look like they're going to make it. I'll post some pictures tomorrow, but for now, I can tell you I put cilantro, oregano, basil, tarragon, thyme and rosemary in the herb garden, -- and I have some room left for some chives, scallions, and / or garlic. Over in the veggie patch, we have two varieties of tomato, some onions, some cucumbers, and my counter is holding 10 chile pepper plants, (3 varieties; Anaheims, Poblanos, and Serranos) and 2 tomatillo plants. I hope to put the tomatillos and 7 of the peppers in the ground tomorrow, if it's dried out enough. The other 3 chiles go to my sister. Believe it or not, every nursery I tried around here had the same 6 varieties of chile peppers, none of which I prefer. So I ended up having to order them. I found a site online, called "The Chile Woman" that has tons of chiles. You can't order online, you have to print out the order form, and mail it to her. But she said she ships on Mondays, and only between May 1 and June 30. I sent my order on April 30, and the plants arrived on may 15, in great shape. I'm quite pleased. If any of you are having trouble finding the precise chiles you want, I encourage you to check out the chile woman. Garden pics tomorrow.

Candy Cake

This one comes to you from my youngest. I don't know whether or not I mentioned it, but my one-of-a-kind, can't-be-beat, beef heart and burgundy chili was actually, well, --beat. Soundly. At the church's Chili cook-off / dessert bake-off, there were 15 chili entries, and 9 awards. Which means mine was judged one of the 6 worst. ( I figure the judges hadn't the discerning palate I had previously credited them )

But the evening wasn't a total wash. In fact, we brought home a winner in our midst after all. My youngest, the aspiring baker, made her grandmother's "Candy Cake" and entered it in the dessert category, where there were 18 entries and merely 4 prizes. She, unlike her old man, brought home the goods. And I promised her a spot on the blog with her winning entry.

The really cool part of all this is, though my LCB doesn't like to cook, nobody has made this cake in our house since her mom passed away. (I'm not much of a baker, and I don't really care for cake). So, by Hope making the cake from Grandma's recipe, and the LCB assisting to see if it was they way she remembered, they were both able to bridge across an emptiness that's been too long there. Made the LCB cry, but I think it was the good kind of crying.

OK, enough sappiness, here's how you make these incredibly rich little squares:

50 Caramels
1/2 cup evaporated milk

Melt the caramels and 1/2 C. evaporated milk in a double boiler.

1 box German Chocolate cake mix
1/3 cup evaporated milk
3/4 cup melted margarine
1 Cup chopped nuts. (We used walnuts)

Mix the cake mix, milk, margarine, and nuts.
Put 1/2 the batter in the bottom of a 9x12 pan.
Bake for 6 minutes at 350 degrees.
Put 1 Cup chocolate chips sprinkled over the hot cake.
Pour caramel mix over chocolate chips.
Sprinkle the rest of the batter on top. (It's more like a dough than a batter)
Bake 15-18 mins at 350.
Cool for 15 mins.
Refrigerate 1 hour.

Cut into squares and enjoy!

Hang-ons

Some time ago, Mimi posted some recollections on her Memere's potato masher. This evening, a package arrived that my LCB had ordered. It was a beautiful red enameled cast-iron French Oven. (I grew up calling these things Dutch Ovens, but I guess they're French Ovens now. Or maybe there's a difference I'm failing to notice.) Anyway, Mimi's recollections spawned by an artifact, coupled with a brand new cooking pot, brought to mind a story I read somewhere once.
We all have what I call "hang-ons". Not hang-ups, but hang-ons. Things we do and we don't really know why we do them. The story goes like this:

A newlywed couple were in the kitchen, and were preparing a roast together. The bride took the knife and cut off about 2" of the pointed end of the roast, and tossed it in the garbage can. The husband was a bit surprised at this, and asked her why she did it. She replied "That's how my mom always fixed a roast". "But why?" asked the still perplexed husband. So the wife called her mother and asked "Ma, why do you always cut off the pointed end of the roast?" Her mother said, "That's how your grandma always fixed a roast, and her roasts were always so delicious, so I do it the same way." The new wife asked "But why did she do it?" Of course, the mother wasn't sure. So, the next time the woman and her mother went to meet Grandma, they asked her "Grandma, why when you're preparing a roast, do you cut the pointed end off?" The Grandma held her hands about 8 inches apart, and said "That's all the bigger my roasting pan was."

I'm sure you saw that one coming a mile away, but it's still one of my favorite stories. And I wonder what hang-ons we have.
For me, I like to mix the dough for my flour tortillas by hand, even though I have a perfectly good KitchenAid that would do a perfectly good job of it sitting on the counter. I just like the feel of working the flour and the lard together when it's all still warm from pouring in the water.
For the longest time, I resisted getting the KitchenAid. Finally, my LCB bought it anyway. For some reason, I supposed there was something that magically made a better pie crust if you used a pastry cutter and mixed it all by hand. Probably because that's how Gi-Gi did it. Of course, if Gi-Gi had been alive, she'd probably have cuffed me one, and said "you dolt! -- there's a perfectly good mixer standing right there."
Now I have to go figure out what I'm going to fix for the crew tomorrow with my new French Oven. They're not keen on stew, or soups, so I'm thinking something braised and simmered.

Cornbread Cake

Last night it was barbeque chicken. We had loosely planned our meals for two weeks, and though I knew it was BBQ chicken night, I hadn't really figured out any sides yet. I wasn't keen on canned veggies, and I couldn't remember what fresh veggies were around. (It's been a busy few weeks, and who keeps their pantry / fridge inventory memorized anyway?)
BUT -- I always have buttermilk pancake mix on hand, and I happened to have some corn meal left over from when I made Elise's wonderful creamy polenta last week. And I seemed to recall that a close friend of ours used to make her cornbread with pancake mix and corn meal. In our recipe box, it's listed as "Aunt Elizabeth's Cornbread". And cornbread always goes with BBQ. Besides, I've been thinking about Mimi's Bisquick Day event, and thought why not another mix? It'd certainly be faster, and the kids will eat it.
Some years ago, I was stationed with the U.S. Marines in the middle east. We'd been eating MRE's for several weeks, and when you're eating MRE's, I can tell you, the novelty wears off about halfway through lunch the first day. So eventually, they assigned us a Marine Cook, who was also an amateur boxer who hailed from Louisiana. I was assigned to KP, which I really didn't mind at all. This guy was sweating it out with us and saved us from the MRE's, I'm only too happy to help him out. He picked up a can of cornbread mix, cleverly concocted by one of Uncle Sam's culinary alchemists, and said "Can you read, doc?" (I was a corpsman a few lifetimes ago) I said "Yes, Staff Sergeant." So he tossed me the can and said "Make this." So I looked at the instructions, and noticed it said "optional -- n Cups sugar." Then I said "uh, staff sergeant...this says you can optionally use sugar." He shot me a Marine Corps Boxer look, rather than a Marine Corps Cook look (and I think the distinction is subtle, at best) and barked -- "NO! You NEVER put sugar in corn bread!! That ain't cornbread, - that's cake!"
So, Aunt Elizabeth's cornbread, as it's referred to in our recipe box, is being posted as Cornbread Cake, because even though it's been 16 years, -- I still defer to the Staff Sergeant on this one. But it's not a dessert cake, it's a ok-for-the-kids-to-eat-at-dinner cake. And it's tasty besides.


2 Cups buttermilk pancake mix
6 Tbsp cornmeal
1 Cup sugar
2 eggs
1 Cup milk
1/2 cup margarine (melted)

Mix the dry ingredients in a big bowl. Then mix the milk and egg together, and add them to the dry stuff. Mix all that together, then add the margarine. Mix everything together and pour into a greased 9x9 pan. Bake at 350 for 35-40 minutes.

Note:
You no doubt noticed from the picture, I used a #8 cast iron skillet. As long as it's well-seasoned, it works better than the pan.