The Barefoot Kitchen Witch

Cornish Pasties

Comfort food at its finest.  Cornish Pasties (pronounced "PASS-tees") are simply meat pies you can hold in your hand to eat.  As I understand it, they probably originated in Cornwall, in the south of England, as something miners could bring with them for lunch, as they could not come out of the mine shaft mid-day.  The pasties were portable, and the filling would stay warm for hours.  And they can be made with other fillings, but traditionally it's cubed beef, potatoes and onions. 

My Dad's mother was from Cornwall, and came here when she was - if I'm remembering this correctly - sixteen, to live with her married sister.  Anyway, fast forward to after she was married and a mother, she would make these for my dad and his younger sister.

And then when my parents were married, she taught my mother to make them.  I use the word "taught" in a rather loose sense.  In the "For Days of Auld Lang Syne" compilation of recipes that my mother put together for me when I was engages, here's the story:

"Leek Pasties"

(my mother writes) - "This recipe was sent May 3, 1970 to us from...Grandmother Wilke, after they moved out west.  Their first intention was to locate in California but then opted for Arizona, where they stayed for a number of years.  This pasty was not the more readily made beef and potato one, but a variation from Cornwall."

In her (my grandmother's) words:  "Thought I'd start off and tell you about the leek pasty - You make that in one big one, so roll out pastry as big as you want.  (Usually a 9-10 inch pie plate).  Slice up a bunch of leeks into 1/4 inch slices (3-4 leeks).  Lay pastry into pie plate and add sliced leeks.  Beat together 2 eggs, some chopped ham or bacon then pour over leeks.  Cover with top layer of pastry.  Bake at 325 degrees for 30-40 minutes until nicely browned.  May be served hot or at room temperature."

That's the recipe.

Oddly enough, I don't remember having the leek version as a child - I remember the meat ones.  I remember my mother rolling out the dough, standing at her floating work island in the kitchen (actually it was the dishwasher - it had a thick cutting board on top and she used it for most of her baking projects- and it was on wheels, so when she needed it she could roll it into place closer to the sink and stove and fridge).  I also remember her chipping the potatoes - cutting them into little pieces as she made each pasty.  She made one for each of us, and cut slits in the top crust to form our initials.  This was also so that no one would get hers - she liked a bit of turnip in there besides the meat and potatoes. 

Pasties were often specifically dinner for Dad's birthday.  And the way I remember eating them was this - you'd slice open the top of the pasty, right around the curved part, just above the crimped edge.  Then you'd put some butter on each side, and pour a little milk on it.

Yeah, I can see some of you cringing.  Huh?  Pour milk on it?  No, it's not traditional.  But according to my father, when he was a boy, his mom did that to cool it down for him.  So that's how HE ate them, and that's kind of how we learned to.   But it's not required. 

To my horror, my husband puts ketchup on his.  I can't watch that.  Although I'm sure people put all sorts of things on them - HP sauce comes to mind.

The first time I made them on my own was for my father's birthday.  My mother wasn't available to do it that year, so I decided to do it myself.  And for some reason I was a nervous wreck about it.  But I was often a nervous wreck back then, so I guess it's not all that surprising.  But pasties are pretty forgiving things - and mine came out fine.

I made them last night for part of our dinner, and I must say they were the best ones I've ever made.  I don't know how that happened, but I'm not complaining.

Here's what you do:

Make the pastry dough.  Now, you can use any pastry dough recipe you want to use - whatever you're comfortable with. 

I wanted to make a lot of them, so I used the following:

4 cups all purpose flour

2 teaspoons salt

1   1/2 cups chilled vegetable shortening, cut into approximately 1/2 inch cubes

8-12 (or more) T ice water (it will vary depending on the humidity in your kitchen, the time of year, the hour of the day, whether you part your hair on the right or the left, and so forth.)

Combine the flour and salt and either put them in a food processor (my new favorite way) or in a large bowl. 

Add the cubed shortening

and either pulse about 5 times in the processor or cut the shortening in with a pastry cutter or two knives or your hands.  You want the dough to have some lumps of shortening around the size of peas, and the rest to look look like coarse sand.

Next - add the water a little at a time.  If using the food processor, pour in a few tablespoons, then pulse.  Add another tablespoon or two, then pulse.  If you're working in a bowl, then drizzle in some water, and toss the flour/shortening mixture with a fork.  Then more water, then toss again.  The idea is to GENTLY incorporate JUST ENOUGH water to bind the flour/shortening mixture.  You don't want it soggy, you don't want it too dry, and you definitely don't want to overwork the dough because it will activate the glutens in the flour and the final product - the pie shell or pasty shell - will be tough.  For pies and so forth, and pasties, you want flaky and tender.

Once the dough JUST comes together, pat it into a ball, press down into a disk, wrap in plastic and refrigerate for at least half an hour.  While the dough is chilling, you can prepare the filling ingredients.

You will need:

About a pound of stew beef, either  cut in chunks or not.

   

4-5 medium red potatoes, or any other kind of potato you want.  You want about the same amount of potatoes as meat, once it's all cut up.

1 small onion

Salt and pepper

two egg yolks mixed with a tiny bit of water (to glaze the pasties with)

Cut the beef into small pieces - about 1/4 inch thick and about 1/2 inch to an inch wide.

Cut the potatoes into pieces about the same size as the beef, except you want them about 1/8 of an inch thick.

Dice up the onion into 1/4 inch pieces

Heat the oven to 325 degrees. 

Get out a couple of baking sheets and line them with parchment or foil.

Okay, now take the dough out of the fridge, unwrap it, and cut it into eight equal pieces.  (They don't have to be perfect - just eyeball it.)

Roll out four of them into rough circles about 1/8" thick.

Place some potatoes on one half of each dough circle, leaving about 3/4 inch of an edge for sealing the pasty. 

Next, place some meat on top of that, and then a healthy sprinkling of onions.  Do all 4 this way, then sprinkle generously with salt and pepper.

Now, carefully, fold the other half of the dough over the filling and press down along the edges to seal. 

Curl the dough over on itself to keep it sealed, or press with the tines of a fork, or crimp it - whatever you want to do to make it pretty. 

Place on one of the baking sheets.  Cut a few holes in the top with the tip of a knife to allow the steam to escape, and the brush with the egg wash.  Do the same with the other three you just made.

And now repeat the entire procedure with the other 4 pieces of dough and the rest of the filling ingredients and place on a second baking sheet.

Place sheets in the oven and set your timer for 15 minutes.  When the timer goes off, rotate the pans so all the pasties bake evenly.  Set for another 15 minutes, and then check again every five minutes or so if they still aren't done.  Pasties should be golden brown and steaming hot.

Serve with a salad if you want to.  Do the butter and milk thing - or not.  They're fine without that.  I added just a bit of butter because hey, it tastes good, it adds a bit more moisture to the crust, and because I'm a creature of habit.  But mostly because it tastes good.

Enjoy!

Mutton Kari (Lamb Curry)

What do you do when you have leftover lamb?  You make curry.

Actually, you really should buy lamb SOLELY for the purpose of making curry.  I know I should.  That's how this recipe is written, actually - it's to be made with raw lamb.  But.  We had about 3 pounds of lamb meat left, and we wanted to make a curry with some or all of it.  Bill took a look through a few cookbooks, and he liked the sound of this one, so this is what I made.

It's from Charmaine Solomon's The Complete Asian Cookbook - and it's incredibly comprehensive.  She covers India, China, Cambodia, Japan, Thailand, Vietnam, Indonesian, Korean, and more. 

This recipe for Mutton Kari, or Lamb Curry, calls for Garam Masala, a blend of toasted spices.  You can find the recipe I used here.

And though we used cooked lamb, I plan to make this again with raw.  The cook time in the recipe is for raw lamb - you cook the mixture for over an hour - and I think the flavors need all that time to blend together and soak into the lamb.  Just my two cents.

Here we go.  First - what you'll need:

2 T ghee or oil

2 large onions, chopped

4 cloves garlic, chopped

1 T finely chopped fresh ginger

2 T curry powder

3 tsp salt

2 T vinegar or lemon juice

3 large tomatoes, chopped

2 fresh chilies

2 T chopped fresh mint leaves

1 tsp garam masala (see here) 

3 lb boned shoulder of lamb

1 T chopped fresh coriander or mint leaves

Cut lamb into cubes.

(Okay, she's not cutting the lamb herself.  But she was most definitely helping.)   

Heat ghee (or oil) in a saucepan and gently fry onion, garlic and ginger until soft and golden.

Add curry powder, salt and vinegar, stir thoroughly.

   

Add lamb and cook, stirring constantly, until lamb is coated with the spice mixture.

Add tomato, chilies and mint.

(Okay, here's where I took a little detour.  Since the lamb was already cooked, I didn't want to put it in this early in the game.  So I just added the tomatoes and mint.  Also, I left the chilies out for now.  I made a separate curry sauce with the peppers, just for Bill and me, because they were too hot for the kids to eat.)

So this is the tomatoes and mint going into the onion and seasonings...

Cover and cook over low heat for 1  1/4 hours or until lamb is tender, stirring occasionally.  The tomatoes should provide enough liquid for the meat to cook in but, if necessary, add a little hot water, approximately half a cup, just enough to prevent meat from sticking to pan. 

(I cooked the mixture with the tomatoes and mint added for about 20-30 minutes, simmering with the lid on.  At that point, I ladled out some of it and put it in a small saucepan and added one of the chiles, seeds removed, and sliced thinly, to the mix. 

I let that simmer while I finished up the rest of the meal.)

Here's how the original onion mixture looked after simmering a while...

Add garam masala (and the lamb!!) and chopped coriander leaves for the last 5 minutes of cooking time.  (and I didn't get coriander - I'd planned to use the rest of the fresh mint - and then I forgot.  Sometimes I do that.)

I stirred all of that together and heated it gently until the lamb was warmed through.

I also added some coconut milk to the separate onion mixture that I'd added the chile pepper to.

I served the lamb over a blend of whole grain and wild rices, with some of the hotter curry sauce for Bill and me.

We both agreed that it was very good - but would be WAY better done without using leftover, already-been-cooked lamb.  So I will definitely be trying that some time.  And I'll let you know.

Slow Roasted Leg Of Lamb

Mmmm...can you smell it?  And the garlic?  And the rosemary?  The triumverate of deliciousness in springtime dinner-making.  If that makes sense.  Well, if you could smell it, it would.

And, of course, lamb doesn't have to just be a springtime thing.  But we often had lamb for Easter in my family, so in my mind, it IS a springtime thing.

Anyway, enough dithering.

I bought a 7.74 lb leg of lamb the other day and cooked it for dinner on Friday.  Ordinarily I would roast it at about 325 degrees F, but since slow-cooking roast beef has been such a success for the last few Christmas dinners, I thought I'd try the slow-cooking method with the lamb.

If I were to do this again, I'd either roast the garlic ahead of time, or cut it into much much thinner pieces before inserting the slices into little cuts in the meat.  The garlic didn't cook enough, and still had that kind of sharp taste garlic has when it's raw.

But other than that, everything else about it was great.

Here's what I did.

First, I peeled a bunch of garlic cloves.

Then I sliced them in half, lengthwise, and in quarters, depending on the size of the clove. 

Next, the leg.

I trimmed away a lot of the fat, very slowly and carefully.

Maybe not perfectly, but I got the job done.

Then, with a sharp little paring knife, I jabbed little openings in the lamb

and slid the garlic pieces in.

(sorry about the blur in that shot - I'd like a third arm at times like these)

Next thing to do, before the meat goes in the oven (which, by the way, go ahead and set for 225 F), is to sear the lamb in the same pan you'll be using to roast it.

Get the pan nice and hot first, and then gently lay the meat down. 

You should hear a great loud sizzle, and you should LEAVE THE MEAT ALONE for a good five minutes or so.  Don't keep checking it.  For one thing, if you aren't using a non-stick pan, and you keep trying to lift up the leg to check the brownness, if the meat isn't ready, it'll still stick to the pan and tear away from the rest of the leg.  You don't want that.  Best to leave it.  A trick I learned, I think it was from watching Sara Moulton on the Food Network, is to shake the pan now and then.  If the meat sticks to where it is, it's not ready.  If it slides around, go ahead and flip it over.

Now, you don't have the same problem with an non-stick pan, so just let it go for five minutes on high heat before you even think of checking it.  Let the heat do its job.

Before it goes into the oven, sprinkle generously with dried rosemary and salt and pepper.

You want to cook the meat til the internal temp (insert the thermometer into the thickest are of the meat, but don't touch the bone) should be 14o for rare, 160 for medium, and 185 for well done.

When the meat is cooked the way you want it (and keep in mind - the thinner areas will, of course, be more "done" than the thickest part - and if you want to eat shoe leather, go to a shoe store.  Just saying.), take it out of the oven and let it sit for 15-20 minutes so the juices can settle back into the meat.

We served ours with cous cous and fresh asparagus sauted in butter and lemon juice.

And I cooked our lamb rare/medium rare. 

Number one, we like it that way.  And number two, that's a big leg of lamb for two adults and two small children in one meal.  So we'll be doing something fabulous with the leftover lamb, and if it's rare-ish, then it can withstand a second cooking without becoming tough.

WARNING:

The smell will torment you while it cooks.

   

But it's well worth it.

Corned Beef Project: Day 9 - The Meal

Was it worth it?  Definitely.  I'll say that right off the bat. 

First off on Friday, I took a look at the packaged, pre-brined corned beef that I picked up for comparison purposes.  And then I looked up at the clock and realized I needed to get a move on.

"Simmer approximately 50 minutes per pound...." Um...okay, this brisket was 4.74 lbs, so that means...um...about 4 hours.  Okay, we'll put that one in first.  I cut open the package and took a look at the contents.

Very pink, and rather fatty on that side, huh?  Into the pot it went

covered with water, lid on, burner on high to bring it to a boil, and then down to a simmer.

Once I'd got that started, I took a look at the briskets I'd brined.

Not as bright pink as the other one, but that's okay.  They're not gray, at least.

Time to check in with the magazine article....

Remove brisket from brine.  Rinse with cold running water.  (Can be made 2 days ahead.  Wrap corned beef in plastic, cover with foil, and refrigerate.)

I just covered them with plastic wrap and put them back in the fridge, since I'd be cooking them in a few hours.

Time to get everything else ready.

You'll need the following:

4 bay leaves

1 T coriander seeds

2 whole allspice

1 dried chile de arbol, broken in half (I used a dried Thai bird chile - we have tons of them.)

cheesecloth (we have some, somewhere.  I used a plain piece of muslin instead.)

1  12-oz bottle Guinness stout or other other stout or porter (I used a porter my husband made.  And I used 2  8-oz bottles, so a pint instead of 3/4 of a pint.)

12 baby turnips, trimmed, or 3 medium turnips or rutabagas, peeled, quartered (no baby turnips to be found.  I bought the smallest I could find and halved them.  I used 8.)

8 unpeeled medium white-skinned or red-skinned potatoes (about 3 lbs)

6 medium carrots, peeled (I cut them in half as well)

2 medium parsnips, peeled, cut into 2-inch lengths (I used 4.  I like parsnips.)

4 medium onions, peeled, halved through root ends

1  2-lb head of cabbage, quartered (For some reason, I doubled the amount of cabbage.  Not sure what I was thinking at the time.  Probably wasn't thinking at all.)

And here's what you do:

Place corned beef in very large wide pot. 

Add stout (or porter)

and enough water to cover by 1 inch.

   

Wrap cheesecloth around bay leaves, coriander seeds, allspice, and shile, enclosing completely, and tie with kitchen string to secure.  Add spice bag to pot with beef;

bring to boil.  Reduce heat to medium-low, cover, and simmer until beef is tender, about 2  1/4 hours.  Transfer beef to large baking sheet.

Okay - here's a picture of the pre-packaged corned beef when it came out of the pot...

And here's a picture of the ones I brined and cooked according to Bruce Aidell's recipes in Bon Appetit:

I covered both pans with foil and put them in a 200 degree oven to keep them warm.

Add turnips and all remaining vegetables to liquid in pot;

bring to boil.  Reduce heat to medium and boil gently until all vegetables are tender, about 25 minutes.  Using slotted spoon, transfer vegetables to baking sheet with beef.  Return beef to pot and rewarm 5 minutes.  (I didn't need to rewarm the beef, as it was already staying warm in the oven.)  Discard spice bag.

While the vegetables were cooking, I put out a few things for people to nosh on when they arrived.

Here we have an assortment of Carr's crackers, a piece of smoked Sockeye salmon, a wedge of Wensleydale cheese with cranberries, and a block of aged Irish cheddar. 

Bill also bought oysters - 2 dozen - but I was too busy chatting and then slurping down the oysters once he'd shucked them to take any pictures.  Sorry.

Cut beef against grain into 1/4-inch thick slices.  Arrange beef and vegetables on platter.  Serve with Horseradish Cream and Guinness Mustard.

Starting with the potato at twelve o'clock and going clockwise, we've got some of the cabbage, carrots, a half of a turnip, half an onion, the Guinness mustard, the corned beef (the one I brined), Horseradish cream, and parsnips.

People sampled both versions of the corned beef and based on verbal feedback and evidence when the table was cleared, everyone preferred the home-brined corned beef. 

 

It has a distinctive, more complex, spicier flavor than the pre-packaged one.  It was just more interesting to eat.  I'll definitely make this again.

To recap, here's a shot of everything I'd made for this meal:

Brining the Briskets

Irish Whiskey Soda Bread

Royal Hibernian Brown Loaf

Horseradish Cream, Guinness Mustard

Lemon Sponge Pie with Chocolate Pastry Crust

I heartily recommend making this corned beef some time.  Sure, it's too late to make it for this year's St. Patrick Day dinner, but so what?  It'll taste good any day of the week.

And the leftover beef (and you should plan on making enough so that you DO have leftovers) will be nice in sandwich form,

or, my family's favorite - as corned beef hash.

Come back later for that one!

Valentine's Day Ideas: Steak and Potatoes

This was one of my husband's suggestions.  And he grilled the steaks for the "photo shoot" aspect of this post.  Like most of our best meals - this one we cooked together.

First, the steaks.

Well, actually, let me back up and say ORIGINALLY, when I went shopping whatever day this was last week, I had planned to get duck breast for another meal idea I have for this series.  But the store I went to didn't have any, so I bought some steaks instead.  These were inch thick sirloin strip steaks, a little over half a pound each.  My husband had a rub already mixed from a previous grilling session, so he coated the steaks with that and let them stand while he started the grill.

Meanwhile, I got going on the other food.

First - had to get the potatoes going.  I cut up about 6 red potatoes - skins on, into cubes or chunks around an inch in size, give or take.

 

And I thawed some tarragon in olive oil that I'd frozen last fall.

I combined this with the potatoes, a bit more olive oil and some salt and pepper, and put the whole mixture in a 13 x 9 baking dish.

And I popped that pan, uncovered, into a preheated 400 degree oven.  You could use another kind of potato if you want to, or a different herb, or a blend.  Whatever you like.

Then I got out two packages of sliced, mixed mushrooms (again - use whatever you like in the mushroom dept.)

And I minced up a couple of shallots...

And I melted some butter in a pan.  I like the flavor of butter with mushrooms, rather than oil. 

In went the shallots and the mushrooms.  I raised the flame to medium high and put a lid on the pan for a couple of minutes to soften everything, then removed the lid and added in 3 cloves of garlic - whole, skins on.  Just for flavor.  I also poured in around half a cup of Marsala wine left from the cannoli I made recently.   Sprinkled on some salt and pepper, gave the mixture a good stir, turned the heat down to medium and let it all cook down. 

By the time the steaks were ready - let's see, the grill took about 20 minutes to get going and then the steaks cooked for a total of 14 minutes I think - this is how the mushroom mixture looked.

Before serving, I removed the garlic.  It hadn't cooked down enough to mash it in with everything else.

And while the mushrooms were cooking, I also made a salad of red leaf lettuce, arugula, tomatoes, orange bell pepper, cucumbers, and mung bean sprouts that we sprouted ourselves.  Oh, and some crumbled bleu cheese on top.

And when all this was nearly ready, the steaks came in the house and rested a bit.

And here's the end result:

Not bad at all.

Valentine's Day Ideas: Warm Honey-Mustard Tofu Salad

I know, you're thinking - Huh?  Tofu Salad?  For Valentine's Day?

Hey, I'm just writing about my own experiences and thoughts here.  And what can I say.  My husband and I both L-O-V-E, LOVE this dish.

It comes from the book The Smith & Hawken Gardeners' Community Cookbook, which was compiled and written by Victoria Wise, and, if I remember correctly, was a bridal shower gift from my sister's neighbor.

This recipe was contributed by one Matthew Marquis from Ohio, and he explains how he came up with this dish:

"When, as a college student, I needed an inexpensive, healthful, one-plate meal that was not pasta or rice I concocted this dish.  It has become my most widely requested garden recipe.  Even if you haven't cared for tofu before, try this and I guarantee it will change your mind.  And don't be shy or light-handed with the herbs."

Anyway, it had been a while since I made this, and I was thinking about it a few weeks ago, and thought it would be something different I could include in this "Valentine's Day Ideas" series.  It makes a good lunch or dinner.  For dinner, you could round it out with a baguette and a bottle of white wine - something crisp and light.

Anyway, here's the recipe.

Ingredients:

1 large head butterhead, Boston, or Bibb lettuce, washed and spun dry.

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 pound firm silken tofu, cut into half-inch cubes (I actually used more - the packages of tofu are usually 14 oz for some reason.  I bought and used two of them.)