A Better Than Prize Winning Cherry Pie

This weekend I made what might be the most scrumptious cherry pie that has ever been made. It was just sweet enough to be pleasant, but not tooth-achingly sweet like pies made with canned pie filling tend to be.

I would have loved to have made it from fresh cherries, but they were too expensive to get enough for a pie, so I went with the canned cherries that are in the fruit aisle – NOT pie filling. There were three different kinds of cherries to choose from. I took a can of tart cherries and a can of cherries that were in a heavy syrup (neither one had high fructose corn syrup). I was worried that the$ two cans (one was 15 oz. and the other was 14.5 oz.) wouldn’t be enough for the pie, but it actually was the perfect amount.

The recipe I based my pie on was titled “Prize Winning Cherry Pie.” I made a few modifications to it, and, all modesty aside, I think my pie would have beaten the one from the recipe.

Better-than-Prize-Winning Cherry Pie

• Double pie crust – enough for a top and bottom crust of one 9″ pie
• 2 15-oz cans pitted, red cherries (see above for comments on what I used)
• 3/4 c + 1/4 c cherry juice (drained/reserved from canned cherries)
• 1/3 c flour
• 1/2 c sugar (you might need more or less depending on whether your canned cherries are in syrup or not)
• 2 T lemon juice
• 1 T butter
• 1 t almond extract
• pinch salt

Line your pie plate with the bottom crust – being careful to gently lay the dough in without stretching. Trim only if necessary. You want about 1/2″ – 1″ of extra dough around the rim to help seal the top crust on. Refrigerate.

Drain the cans of cherries, saving 1 cup of the juice. I got exactly 1 cup from the cherries I drained. If you’re a little shy of a cup, add enough water to equal the 1 cup you need.

Pour 3/4 cup of the cherry juice in a small pan and bring to a boil. Whisk the flour into the remaining 1/4 c cherry juice. When the juice in the pan comes to a boil, add in the flour/cherry juice mixture, stirring constantly. The mixture will thicken almost immediately. Cook for a couple of minutes, then slowly add in the sugar. Cook 3-4 minutes. Remove from heat.

Add in remaining ingredients and stir to combine. Mix in cherries. Set mixture aside to cool for 20-30 minutes.

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.

Roll out pastry for top crust.  If making lattice top, cut into strips.

Pour cooled cherry mixture into pie crust.  Cover with top crust, crimp top and bottom crusts together. If you didn’t make a lattice top, cut several steam/vent holes in top.

Place pie in oven on middle rack. Place a baking sheet on the rack directly below to catch any filling that might overflow. Bake at 400 degrees for 15 minutes. Turn oven temperature down to 350 degrees and continue baking for 25-35 minutes.

The crust should be dark golden brown, top and bottom (obviously the bottom crust can only be seen if you’re using a glass pie pan). Don’t be afraid to leave the pie in the oven a bit longer if it just doesn’t look done.

Remove pie from oven and set on a cooling rack. Best served at room temperature or slightly warm with ice cream.

Cutting up a Chicken

I am the fourth oldest of ten children. We grew up in a small village in the middle of the Canadian Province of Alberta, and we didn’t have much money. These facts combined, mean that I was raised on very few processed foods (it was more expensive to buy enough Hamburger Helper to feed us all than it was to make a hamburger casserole from scratch and add in “stretching” ingredients.)

It also means that for the most part, when we had chicken, it was either leg quarters (thighs and drumsticks) because they were inexpensive, or a couple of whole chickens cut up into parts.

I was about 11 or 12 when Mom first guided me through cutting up a chicken. I clumsily learned how to find the joints, pop them and then carefully slice through. And thanks to Mom’s patience and close supervision, when I was done, it looked more or less like chicken parts were supposed to look.

After I moved out nd got married, I fell into the trap of the bland, boneless, skinless world of easy and “healthy” chicken. With few exceptions, I never cooked dark meat, and rarely cooked chicken with bones in it. I’m sure my kids had related the word for the chicken we had for dinner to the word for the birds we saw in books and on TV, but whether they made a real-life connection from the reality of the boneless skinless meat to the walking, squacking feathered creatures, I have no idea.

Of course, as you know if you’re been to our farm website or have been reading this blog for very long, you know that three years ago we moved to Washington State and started raising chickens. As we butchered the first batch of chickens and I started preparing them for the freezer, those chicken cutting-up lessons of my youth came in very handy.

As time went on and customers came by to get their chickens, I began to get questioned about how to cut up a chicken. I quickly realized that many people didn’t have the privileged childhood I had, and have never cut up a chicken in their lives. One lady told me that she and her mother had spent over an hour trying to break down one bird, and in the end, it was a mess. Others have told me that they always roast or poach their birds whole rather than attempt to cut them into parts.

Any time I get asked, I am happy to give a quick demo and explain the process, and I like to think that some people go home with their fresh chickens afterward and attempt the process for themselves.

A couple of months ago, as I was looking for something online, I found a link to a terrific video demonstration on cutting up a chicken.  Then the other night our dinner guest appeared to be amazed that the chicken breast on her plate looked like one that you would buy in a store. It made me realize how lucky I was (though I never would have thought it at the time) to grow up in a home where I did get the experience of learning how to cut up a chicken.

So for those of you who have not had the same opportunity and experience, here is a wonderful demo on how to cut up a chicken. Although of course, if you’re coming by the farm this summer to pick up your chicken and would like a personal lesson, let me know. I’ll be glad to help.

Chicken Cordon Bleu – Chicken of the Week

Tonight we had a guest for dinner, so I left work 1/2 hour early so that I’d get home early and dinner wouldn’t be too late. But, as happens with so many well thought out plans, this one was thwarted.

Traffic.

It took way more than an hour to travel what normally takes 20 minutes. But even though I spent so much of my time this evening surrounded by brake lights, I still was able to get an amazing (it’s no time to be modest) dinner on the table before 7 p.m.

I know what you’re thinking…Chicken Cordon Bleu? How could something so amazing be done so quickly?

Well, there’s two answers to this question.

First, I did some of the prep work last night. Second, the recipe is nowhere near as challenging as you might expect. And third, I’m just that good. (I know I said two answers, so just pick your two most favorite from the above list.)

So if you want an amazing, yet easy, weeknight dinner, simply:

Take a boneless, skinless chicken breast and cut a pocket in the side. Into this pocket, stuff a piece of ham, cooked bacon or prosciutto (my pork of choice) and a piece of cheese (I used Ementaler, but it could have been Gruyere or Swiss or almost any kind you like.) Use toothpicks to close the chicken. Repeat for the number of servings you want. Place all chicken in a pan, cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight. (The overnight rest helps it hold together when you cook it.)

The next day…

Heat the oven to 375. Also, heat 1/2″ oil in a skillet.

Set out three pie plates, dishes, pans or other vessels of choice. In the first, put about 1/2 c flour, seasoned with salt and pepper. In the second, mix 1 egg with 1 T water for every 3 chicken breasts you are cooking. In the third pan, dump in some panko breading along with salt and pepper – maybe 1/2 cup panko for every chicken breast you’re making. You probably won’t use all the panko, but it’s easier to have too much than to just have barely enough.

Remove toothpicks from the chicken and, one at a time, dip/dust the chicken in the flour, then dip in the egg wash then finally cover in the panko. Set chicken aside. When all the chicken is breaded, carefully place in the hot skillet. Cook until chicken is golden brown on one side, then turn it over and brown the second side. Place on baking sheet.

When all chicken is browned, place it in the oven for about 15 minutes. It’ll be done when a thermometer reads 160 degrees in the middle of the chicken.

That’s it. If it sounds like hard work, think again.

If it sounds amazingly delicious, just know that you’re right.

Of course, what really makes the meal superb is terrific company. But that’s a story for another time.

I’ll tell you all about it in June.

Soup Noodles

It’s been a rough couple of days in our household. My mother came down with a stomach flu on Tuesday, and Austin and I were copycats and decided to be sick on Wednesday. This morning, Austin was better, but I wasn’t, and Ryan was.

Usually when I’m sick I can still read about food. I think maybe its because when I read about food, its more of a fact-finding process rather than an imagining-what-it-tastes-like process. I read food blogs and cookbooks for the articles, not the pictures.

But yesterday, I couldn’t even do that.

By about 10:30 this morning, however, that all changed. I got hungry and food sounded good. And I even wanted to get up off my butt and cook something.

So I made soup noodles.

I pulled out a quart of frozen homemade chicken broth, dumped it in a pan with 2 cups of water, some chopped onions, a crushed clove of garlic and a couple of chopped up carrots. When it came to a boil, I added soy sauce until it tasted salty enough, then two “bunches” of my favorite organic udon noodles. Boil 5 minutes to cook the noodles, and we’re good to go. Better than packages of ramen, but without all the crap.

Little Bundles of Pigginess

Three weeks ago we woke up to the site you see here on the left. Mama pig had six little piglets. Actually, when we woke up, she had only five piglets. Paul was lucky enough to witness the birth of the last little red piggy.

And since that moment, I have struggled.

You see … piglets are cute!

I’ve gotten used to the big pigs wandering around, and while they’re nice looking pigs, there’s not cute. Not really even attractive.

In fact, when I look at them, I find it very easy to thing of the ham and bacon that they will someday become.

But it’s weird to look at these little red and black and spotted pigs and see them running around, rooting their little snouts into the ground, playing with each other and acting like any other little baby animal … and then come back into the house and take a deposit for the butchered half-hogs that they will be in a very short amount of time.

This experience has definitely made me think even more than I had before about how critical it is that animals we eat are treated with respect and raised humanely.

And I am so thankful that my family is able to be a part of this process.