Tag Archives: pie

Tofu Pot Pie

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I just opened the oven and slid in a pie, a tofu pot pie.  For those with eclectic or simply open tastes, this is one good dish.  It was introduced to us by our friends, Spike and Liz, when we visited them a couple of years ago out in Idaho.  We jotted down the recipe on the back of a random page from a transcribed telephone conversation about a land conservation deal, and it has become a staple for us since then.

It took me about an hour and a quarter to put it all together, another quarter hour to clean, and we still have 15 minutes remaining for it to bake.  It can sometimes take two hours from beginning of prep time to pulling it from the oven, but it is worth it.  It is comfort food at its best, with no factory farmed critters in the mix.

Aside from its gustatory pleasures and its ability to satisfactorily fill one’s gut, this pie offers something else.  Whenever I make it I think of Spike and Liz.  They are two of my favorite people and I have not seen them in way too long.  We almost saw them this fall but plans fell through.  Making this pie helps keep them fresh in my mind.  I hope that anyone who reads this has had the fortune to have friends like these.

They are bright, ambitious and set an example of how to achieve.  Yet, despite their ambitions and achievements, they are both humble, enjoy simple pleasures and are accepting of even those with differing viewpoints.  Neither of them is content to accept anything without asking first, Why is this this way, and is there a better way?  They probe the mysteries of life and take what comes, even if it is difficult or tragic, with grace.  I love them both.

So in this season where the harvest is now in the root cellar, I sit in the dark for dinner and enjoy with my family a meal whose recipe I learned from some high quality individuals.  And I think of them as I prepare it and as I eat it.  Here is to Spike and Liz, for sharing, for teaching me, and for making the world a better place.

Happy pie!  May you have such meals as this.

Tractor Chores

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I managed to get out on the tractor early this morning and get the field mowed. Well, not all of the field, but most of it. I managed to get stuck twice and had to use the bucket to pull myself out of the mud. Maybe 15% of the ten acres is not cut–too wet and mucky for this tractor.

My little boy came with me while I was out there. He wanted to come along so he sat on my lap. The tractor was at the edge of the field, close to the house, and needed to be filled with gas. I decided to drive it around to the garage, where the 5-gallon talk sat. Five gallons of diesel isn’t easy to lug too far. So he sat on my lap and steered us over there.

I was impressed with his steering ability. Maybe all that ride-on car/truck riding really has paid some dividends. He got us around the house without running into the clothesline or the wood pile or the car. I had to guide him a couple of times but really, only a couple of times. If he could reach the peddles he could almost do it himself.

I also turned the compost pile again and we hauled the old fence posts away. We took down a rotting fence this spring and all the posts were hiding, rotting, in the tall grass. We loaded the bucket and I drove them to the far edge of the field. I stacked them in hopes that some birds or other critters will shack out there while they take a few years to crumble. Maybe that is a bad idea and we will attract foxes who will eat our future chickens, but we have no real plans to get chickens so we are safe for now.

I am thinking we can get one more job in before we give the machine back. We have some dents in our driveway that could use some filling; fill them, smooth them, pack them and maybe we will not have to bump our way down the driveway so much. It shouldn’t take long.

I need to get the wood in still and I need to get cracking on making that pie. I should have enough time this afternoon to get to the latter. Maybe I can do some stacking while the pie bakes. But only if I get to it.

Ready to Get to Work, Now the the Weekend is Here

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I had a busy week. I put in a few long days. I made phone calls at night, did paperwork after the children went to bed, and rose early to get letters out. I am ready to put down the job for a day or two. Unfortunately, I will have to do some work this weekend to make some deadlines. Actually, I already missed the deadlines but I want to be less late.

We did not finish mowing the field last weekend and the tractor still sits at its edge, waiting to be fired up. The garden is only partly turned. The wood pile is smaller than a week ago, but remains at the edge of the lawn. The front storm door still needs new glass. The compost piles need some work.

So I have plenty to do this weekend. I look at the wood pile every day and it calls to me that it wants to be inside, out of the rain. I need to listen to it. And we need to get the tractor back. It ain’t ours you don’t you know. With the dump run, a trip to the market and the cooking I’d like to do (my boy requested waffles for breakfast, and we need to use those apples in a pie) I will be busy.

How am I going to fit the running back in? I will start rising early next week and getting the miles in. I am hoping the week isn’t as busy as this one, so I can give up a little sleep. Once winter sets in those outdoor projects either need to be done or need to wait until spring. Then I will have some time to run. I will just need to stay motivated once the air gets icy.

We will get the field cut. I will get the wood in. Maybe I will get the garden dug and mulched. I might even manage to come close to those deadlines. I imagine I will do all right if I can rustle up some hot coffee and some waffles. And if I can bake up a pie, I can probably even get that broken storm door fixed.

Pie and Kites and Rain

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So we had this fall/harvest/Halloween shindig this afternoon and it was a blast. I spent about four hours in the kitchen making soup and pie. The soup was pretty easy and relatively quick. The pie took a while but I managed to make two of them, apple of course.

The first pie was a recipe from a cookbook (or most of a recipe). It has cheddar cheese right in the crust and the usual truckload of butter, a dash of cinnamon, vanilla, sugar. I used mostly Macintosh apples but I also added a bit of Honey Crisp, since we had a few of those hanging around the house. It turned out well, as it has for me in the past.

I made the second apple pie with a crust recipe my mother gave me years ago. That crust contains vinegar. The pie was all Macs this time but I spiced it differently, with a little cinnamon but also with cardamom. It, as well, turned out to be a winner.

I made both crusts by hand, literally. Instead of using the food processor shortcut, as I often do, I worked the dough with my fingers. This makes a far better crust, even better than using one of those pastry cutter jobbers. These crusts, while different, were flaky and tasty. They held up but could be peeled apart. They were crispy and sweet. That worked for me.

Once the soup and pies were consumed and the children were rounded up and the conversations ended and the gang took off, I did what any party host does. I cleaned. But then my son suggested we go fly kites, so I dropped the sponge and headed outside.

The wind was blowing from the southeast and it was strong. We got a couple of kites in the air for a little while, but the wind was fickle. We had a few nosedives. Plus, it started to rain. As the rain fell harder and harder, the wind petered out more and more. I brought the kites inside to dry and we called it good. I hung them in the mudroom. One of them has a long tail, maybe fifteen feet, so I had to drape it over multiple hooks.

Now, after dark, the children tucked into bed, the rain falls hard. They fear the power failing. Before bed they asked if it would go out. What could I say but what I always say? “I don’t know,” I told them. They fell asleep anyway. They sleep to the sound of rain and wind. And I think about having another piece of pie.

Burning My Fingers

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We are having a bunch of friends over tomorrow and i was planning to make them some soup.  I baked up a bunch of butternut squash, an hour and a quarter at 350 degrees, and let it sit for a while.  I thought it had cooled enough, but 350 degrees is pretty hot.  I toasted my fingertips.

I have done plenty of cooking.  I do most of the cooking in our house.  i try hard to come up with something wholesome and fresh and tasty, so we don’t end up eating reheated pasta with tater tots.  I have made soup a number of times this fall.  I have to use the pumpkins we grew.  This time I used something different.

I look forward to making soup tomorrow, but my fingertips are really sore.  In fact, typing this right now is uncomfortable.  What was I thinking?

Whatever.  Tomorrow I will whip up the soup.  And a couple of pies.  Crap, the oven is going to be busy all day.  So much for reducing our greenhouse gas emissions.  Maybe it will balance out.  Local squash and apples instead of California squash and Washington apples.  A day of baking can’t pump out too much carbon compared to shipping food thousands of miles can it?

After a day of baking I am hoping my fingers will have cooled a bit.  I suppose even if they haven’t, some apple pie will distract me long enough to forget about it.

Pumpkins on the Railing and on the Table

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We have a dozen pumpkins on the railing of the deck.  These are the fruits, so to speak, of our gardening labor.  I have baked up a few of them so far, to use in muffins and soup.  I made two batches of muffins this past weekend.  One was great, the other flopped.

The flopped batch came from missing one ingredient.  It took me quite a while to realize what it was.  Then I remembered that I forgot the baking powder.  It is great to remember that I have forgotten something.  It is far better than to forget that I have remembered something.  The second batch was the progeny of the flop of the first batch.  I was excited to make these pumpkin apple muffins and then I ended up with these somewhat tasty but way too dense things.  The next batch was a winner.

I also made soup this weekend.  It was part of a simple meal:  fresh bread, fresh soup and apple pie.  The pie was a group effort (my mother and niece worked on that) so the meal was truly a family dinner.  The bread was pretty much dee-lish, if I may say that about my own honey oat perfectly risen perfectly baked warm buttery yeast creation.  And the soup was dang good as well.

My wife and I went out to dinner a few nights ago and had some squash soup that was really amazing.  It just folded into your tongue and wrapped around your taste buds in a teasing caress.  It was hard to get enough of that.  I though I might take some cues from that soup and, while I had no illusions that I would replicate it, try my own version.

My version was a pumpkin (duh!) soup, with cream and honey and cinnamon and sage.  It was creamy and smooth and sweet.  I made a lot but it was consumed, even by two young children and a teenager.  That was accolade enough for me.

There are still many pumpkins left.  I will bake and freeze a few and I will make more bread and more soup.  And maybe another batch of muffins.  We still have a bucketload of apples left as well.  Our oven won’t be idle for a while.