Peyton & Byrne inspired a pie making session on Sunday night. It was a bit full on, an evening almost embarrassingly food focused.
I was so sleepy from entertaining a house full of friends and family over
the weekend that I curled up on the sofa with Harry Eastwood's
Red Velvet Chocolate Heartache where she exchanges the fat content in
cakey offerings with a rogue vegetable. I nodded off for
an hour or so, dreaming of parsnip muffins, chocolate & aubergine
concoctions and swede with lemon & lavender.
I woke up in a panic. As well as the bread-sans-breadmaker I had promised all 4 of my lovely readers a pie. I stuck Heston B shows on the laptop and set to work.
First I roasted a whole chicken. This wasn't a deliberate extravagance but it was the only free range chicken available in the supermarket that morning. It's got to be free range...ok? Good.
Once the chicken was roasted I added it to a simple sauce of finely
diced onion, mushrooms and Crème fraîche. I added depth with juniper,
pepper, bay and a star anise. Encased the lot in a rich, solid but crumbly pastry (thanks Richard Corrigan) nestled in healthy sized clay dishes. It was getting on for 11pm and the oven was on low because I also had a meringue in there... obviously. I got a phone call from the aforementioned west mids eco keenie. It was really rather pleasant, talked for an hour or so whilst I pottered and clattered about the kitchen.
I've had a bit of a confidence knock thus far. Dating tip # 1 was "learn to cook" this I can do in abundance, but what about the rest? I've been holding my head high, but high from behind a loaf of Walnut Bread, Chicken Pie and Violet French Fancies.
What else is there?
What else have I got to offer?
What do I want to offer?
In any case surely relationships aren't solely about the exchange of skills and commodities?
There's a lot of soul searching ahead, it's not as simple as a roast
chicken pie, more a delicate, precarious croquembouche