Beginnings (Chicken pot pie)
The death of a chicken is the beginning of this dish. Cooking never lets me get far from that reality.
This chicken came from SOVA Farms in Norwich, NY via our farmers market. The last chicken pot pie I made, a month before on a busier morning, the chicken was pre-cooked and still warm in a plastic bag from the grocery store. This one’s flesh was cold from my refrigerator. I placed my hands on its puckered skin, lowered it into a pot, and covered it with vegetables and water to poach the chicken and make a stock. The beginning of a pot pie that my son Leo and I would eat for dinner while my husband Caleb was out of town.
When Caleb leaves, it’s like a portal opens to seeing my relationship with Leo more clearly. This time, Leo on the cusp of turning 13, I felt endings. We went to the pumpkin farm to pick out a pumpkin to carve for Halloween, and he said he didn’t want to carve a pumpkin this year. I asked if he would make banana bread with me, which we used to do, and he said no. “I just don’t want to do anything with you, Mom.” “Is there anything you do feel like doing together?” I asked. “Watching stuff,” he said.
He still likes eating chicken pot pie, though. “Potpie” is, in fact, his handle for a videogame he likes to play. I made this one with a new kind of flour I was experimenting with, sustainably grown all-purpose flour from River Valley Community Grains. I was excited to use flour that was more alive, inspired by Dan Barber’s diatribes against conventionally grown wheat. What I didn’t realize was that the protein content in the flour (more than 10% versus less than 1% for grocery store flour) made it into essentially a different food. When I used it in the recipe I always use, it sunk the pie with its heaviness. The sauce, usually a velvety béchamel, now had the fibrous texture of Cream of Wheat. The biscuit topping was a weighted blanket. Trying too hard to be nourishing, I had made a dish that was almost indigestible.
Leo was gracious. He had two helpings of the filling – chicken lusciously tender, carrots perfectly cooked – asked if I had done something differently, and left the topping on his plate.
The week passed uneventfully, most of our time when he was home spent alone together. While I missed the feeling of doing stuff with him – simple things we hadn’t done in a long time, like reading stories and bedtime tuck-ins – I appreciated the sustained time to do new things for myself. I went to a women’s social event sponsored by our local Chamber of Commerce, and Leo stayed home and made himself Cup O’ Noodles. I participated in meetings for the volunteer committee I had just joined that supports the Hastings Farmers Market. I applied to and was accepted to join the board of the organization that runs our local food pantry and youth programs, which required updating my resume for the first time in many years. Beginnings of new relationships with my community.
The next weekend, I made the pot pie again, using the other half of the chicken, which I had frozen after poaching. This time, I created a new recipe, a hybrid of the one I was used to using, with the sauce made of grocery store flour (Bob’s Red Mill Organic All-Purpose) and the biscuit topping made of River Valley’s pastry flour, which has far less protein content than its all-purpose flour but still more protein and more flavor than grocery store flour. My dad came to visit, and we all went for a walk in the woods together, even Leo, whose resistance to family activities softened in the presence of a grandparent.
Leo and I walked beside each other for a while, our feet snow-plowing leaves into piles we kicked ahead of us. A simple, wordless act. For me, it felt like another beginning, creating the path ahead together. The act of creation itself enough, not needing to know where it would lead.
Recipe as feeling: Beginnings (Chicken pot pie)
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Say goodbye, and thank you.
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See what comes to the surface.
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Experiment with new ingredients.
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Let dishes be empty for a while.
Actual recipe
Chicken pot pie
This recipe uses a biscuit topping, but you can also use your favorite pie dough or store-bought puff pastry crust. They’re all good. Other modifications you can use include starting with a cooked chicken (leftovers from a roasted chicken work well) instead of a raw one, and using bouillon and water instead of homemade stock, or making stock from the bones of the pre-cooked chicken instead of the whole raw chicken.
This recipe takes a while to make, but there’s a lot of downtime too while the stock is cooking or pie is baking. The cooked pie can be cooled and wrapped in foil (I also put plastic wrap outside the foil) and frozen, and reheated in the foil. You can also make the pie filling and topping ahead of time and put both in the refrigerator until you’re ready to bake. It easily doubles if you use a larger pan or two small pans.
Serves 6
INGREDIENTS:
For the filling
3 stalks celery, washed and chopped (reserve the tops for the stock)
3 carrots, washed and chopped, plus 2 carrots washed and halved for the stock
1 small onion, diced (optional), plus 1 onion halved for the stock
Optional: 1 cup frozen peas, 1 cup diced raw green beans
Salt and pepper to taste
1 whole raw chicken, innards removed (modification: 1 pre-cooked chicken) – you’ll use half for this recipe and can freeze the other half once cooked
1 handful parsley
2 bay leaves
1 large pinch kosher salt
1 tsp. whole peppercorns
Water to cover
For the sauce
½ c. unsalted butter
½ c. all-purpose unbleached flour (such as Bob’s Red Mill Organic)
3 c. stock (or bouillon and water)
½ c. whole milk
Optional: splash vermouth or sherry
Salt and pepper to taste
For the biscuit topping
1 c. flour (I used an organic pastry flour but any lower-protein all-purpose will do)
1 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. Kosher salt
6 tbs. unsalted butter, melted
1 c. milk or buttermilk
EQUIPMENT:
Baking dish (I like to use a square one but pie pans work too; foil ones are great for freezing)
Stock pot
Pan for sauteing the vegetables (I use cast iron)
Small pot for heating the stock and milk
Large saucepan for making the sauce
Whisk
Ladle
Mixing bowl and spatula or wooden spoon
First, make the stock: Place the whole raw chicken (or chicken bones with the meat reserved, if you’re using a pre-cooked chicken) in a large stock pot, along with the halved carrots (2), celery tops, halved onion, herbs, salt, and peppercorns. Cover with water and bring to a boil. Skim off any foam that comes to the surface, and reduce the heat to a steady simmer. Cook for 40 minutes to 1 hour (no longer, if you’re using raw chicken, or it will get rubbery; if you’re just using bones from a pre-cooked chicken, you can simmer 2 hours or longer for more flavor), until the chicken is fully cooked and the legs separate easily from the body. Let the stock cool slightly. Using tongs, pull out the chicken and place in a bowl to cool completely.
When the chicken is cool, shred it, reserving half to freeze if you’re just making one pie. Saute the onion, carrots, and celery until they are slightly softened, about 8 minutes. If you’re using fresh green beans, add those and saute for a minute or two, and if you’re using frozen peas, add those at the end. Transfer to a baking dish along with the shredded chicken.
Preheat the oven to 400℉. Heat 3 cups of stock (you can freeze the rest or use for another purpose) and ½ cup milk in a small pan on low heat so that it’s warm but not boiling (warming the liquid prevents a lumpy sauce). In a large saucepan, melt ½ cup butter and add ½ flour. Stir with a wooden spoon until it’s fragrant and you can see the texture change, a few minutes. Then start adding the stock-milk mixture 1 ladle at a time, whisking constantly, incorporating more liquid as the previously added liquid is absorbed. Adjust the heat as needed to keep it at a steady simmer. When all of the liquid is added, add the optional vermouth or sherry and salt and pepper to taste.
Pour the sauce over the vegetable-chicken mixture in the baking dish.
Now make the topping: Mix together the dry ingredients (flour, baking powder, salt). Mix the melted butter into the milk or buttermilk. Add the wet ingredients to the dry and stir to combine. The mixture should be like thick pancake batter – almost pourable. Don’t overmix.
Pour or scoop the topping over the vegetables, chicken, and sauce in the baking dish. It’s ok if the topping doesn’t completely cover the dish.
Bake about 45 minutes to 1 hour, or until the topping is browned and cracked on top, and you can see the filling bubbling up the sides. Let cool 10 minutes and then serve, or cool completely, wrap, and freeze to reheat another time.
Published November 13, 2022
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