The Week of Magical Eating Day Two: Belated Valentine

Belated Valentine, from my kitchen to you:

I am a big believer in comfort food.  For me, mashed potatoes are a comfort food that are impossible to get tired of.  They can be made in so many ways: with butter, with olive oil, with sour cream, whipped, blended, smashed, gravy-ed.  Two things seem to remain true about them.  1.) there are never enough, and 2.) they get cold too fast.  How to combat this?  It helps that I am only cooking for two, but had my first lessons, triumphs, and failures in a kitchen that fed four nightly.  I haven’t yet mastered the downsizing process, but in cases like mashed potatoes, N. and I actually benefit from my over exuberance.

The key element to mashed potatoes, I think, is including enough fat.  Otherwise all you end up with is crumbly boiled potato.  I take my fat options extremely seriously, and in considering all the creamy options, I decided to play with ricotta cheese during this round.  Not only would this add a cheesy dimension, which is almost never a bad thing, but would contribute a velvety texture and give the potatoes a way of clinging together as they crumbled under the force of my masher.

I dropped a bag of baby Yukon golds into a pot of half salted water, half leftover chicken broth that didn’t get stirred into the risotto from the previous night’s adventure.  Then, in a moment of sudden, startling inspiration, I cracked three whole, unpeeled garlic cloves off the bulb and tossed them in too.  Considering the plans for the following night, these paper-wrapped, pungent little cloves could tie the whole week together.

While the potatoes boiled, I considered their final destination.  Ricotta cheese is nice, but it certainly could be improved upon.  I chopped up a good handful of dill and Italian parsley, and on sudden urge, grated a handful of parmesan cheese too.

I like my mashed potatoes chunky, and I know that most of a potato’s nutrients are found in its skin, so I like to make mashed potatoes with new or fingerling potatoes, or with red-skinned potatoes, which all have thin skins with unobjectionable flavors.  This adds to the nutritious value of the final result, and it saves me time because I don’t have to peel a bunch of potatoes in preparation.  Additionally, the skins add a nice textural element as they yield their hold on the starchy interior and shred through the pot upon mashing.

After draining and peeling the garlic cloves, I added and gently mashed together the following with the softened soldiers:

  • 4 TB butter
  • ½ cup milk
  • 8 oz. part-skim ricotta cheese
  • ¼ – ½ cup grated parmesan cheese
  • ¼ cup roughly chopped fresh parsley
  • 2-3 TB chopped fresh dill
  • Sea salt and black pepper

Using a plastic masher is invaluable because you can do your mixing and mashing right in the pot, which ensures that the potatoes stay hot longer.  We mounded ours up on warm plates and ate them alongside roasted asparagus.  The ricotta was a great addition; it was not super cheesy, but recognizably creamy and smooth.  It definitely added richness and tamed the starchiness of the potatoes.  The combination of herbs was a success.  With the additional richness of the cheese, having bright pops of green both visually and orally made the dish feel, not exactly healthy, but not overbearing.  Besides, with a side of asparagus and burst cherry tomatoes, we weren’t being all that bad…

Turkey Pot Pie

I have discovered that, much as I enjoy baking, I am not and may never be a master of the finicky, temperamental beast that is homemade pie crust.  Fortunately, this did not hinder me when I embarked on my major repurposing-Thanksgiving-leftovers meal last week.  No, I shamelessly bought a package of pre-made pie crusts to lovingly enclose a turkey pot pie.

We had a big turkey this year, and after stripping off the meat and making stock from the bones, I decided both could be put to good use in a pie.  Since the weather has been so chilly, baking is a good way of warming up the house and therefore a good way of choosing dinners.  Never having attempted pot pie before, I surveyed a few likely looking sources for potential recipes before scrapping them all and making it up myself.  Here’s how it went down:

I chopped up three or four cloves of garlic, about ¼ cup of onion, and five or six cremini mushrooms, which I sweated down in olive oil until they were soft.  While this was happening, I chopped up a couple of carrots and a handful of fingerling potatoes into small pieces.  I tossed these into the pot with the aromatics along with some poultry seasoning and a splash of white wine, and then added about 2 cups of turkey stock and heavy cream stirred briefly together.  In a flash of genius, I realized this was an opportunity to use up the mushroom gravy my mom had made for the big Thanksgiving meal.  Everyone seems to stress about gravy – avoiding lumps, getting the right consistency, producing a good flavor without drowning the sauce in salt, and then it doesn’t get used up.  It coagulates into a strange, meaty jelly in the refrigerator and just doesn’t microwave right.  Most years we throw the leftovers away.  But mixed into my pot pie filling, it melted back into a slightly thickened liquid, bringing all its flavor with it.  I added some extra poultry seasoning and slapped the lid of my pot on to let the vegetables cook.

In the mean time, I assessed the crust situation.  Thanks to one of my cookbooks, I had decided to do a lattice top crust.  I’ve never made a lattice top crust before.  It looked daunting.  Helpfully, I found a diagram of how to do it, so while the potatoes and carrots slowly softened I cut my top crust into about twelve strips of semi-even thickness with the tip of one of my sharper knives.

When the potatoes and carrots were almost done, I added a handful of green beans to the filling, probably around a cup of frozen peas, and about two tablespoons of cornstarch mixed with water.  That way the filling could thicken while the green beans cooked.  When things were thickened up nicely, I carefully slopped the steaming filling into the bottom pie crust, which I had carefully laid into my pie plate.

I carefully completed the lattice-work top (I don’t think I can explain without step-by-step pictures, which I unfortunately neglected to take, but it’s not quite as complicated as it looks) and then brushed it with an egg wash.  There was a little bit of filling and a few strips of crust left, so I made two mini-pot pies in tiny corningware dishes to use up the remainders before putting everything into the oven.

After 40 minutes or so at 425F, the pot pie was done.

The crust was golden and crunchy, the insides smelled delicious, and even though the whole first piece I cut fell completely apart, it was glorious.  Though N. enjoys my cooking, he is usually demure about his compliments, but not this time.  He proclaimed “I think I love this,” after only a bite or two, which I interpreted as ultimate triumph.  The veggies were tender but not mushy, the sauce had bubbled up on the sides and had a rich, meaty flavor, and the turkey itself was as delicious as it had been fresh off the bird.  I used only dark meat, which I think kept things moist and extra flavorful.  We glutted ourselves on turkey pot pie, and life was good.

Danke Schoen, Stort tack, Go raibh maith agaibh

I know it’s early, but I’m already so looking forward to it that today I invite you to review my…

Proposed Thanksgiving Menu:

Appetizers – spicy roasted pumpkin seeds, mini corn and cheese purses

Main – Whole roasted turkey stuffed with winter herbs

Sides – stuffing (thanks, Stouffer’s!), giblet gravy, green bean casserole, Mom’s fresh cranberry sauce, chipotle mashed sweet potatoes, herb and pepper biscuits to help clean off the plate.

Dessert – pumpkin pie with whipped cream.

yum.