Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Legend of Cowboy Chicken and Dumplings

Yes, I was at Costco today and I fully intended to buy something pre-made to reheat. But I was feeling sick and tired and nothing I saw sounded really good. Then I saw Chicken and Dumplings and I thought, why spend the extra money? I'll just whip that up at home.

And I did.

It took about 35 minutes.

When it was done it looked UGLY. The four kids took one look at it and complaints started to roll. "I'm not hungry." "I'm not eating that." (and my favorite) "Do I like this mom?"

I served them in bowls and sat for a few minutes watching them watch their bowls of slop. Hoping for candy, my dearies?

The inspiration came, as it usually does, like a shaft of light out of the depths of frustration and necessity.

You all know the story of Chicken and Dumplings, don't you? Cowboys used to ride long days on the range. They had to eat cold lunches and worked very long hours. By twilight, their tummies were growling like a cornered mountain lion. The poor camp cook knew those men had ridden hard all day and were looking for a meal that would stick to their ribs but the cook only had one great big kettle. He didn't have an oven or even a second campfire. So he took a great big pot and hung it over a roaring blaze. He filled the heavy iron kettle with chicken, corn, carrots, peas, and a little bit of other yummy goodness.

(At this point, I had to stop and serve second helpings to my three sons and tell my daughter that yes, there were sometimes cowgirls too and they also ate Chicken and Dumplings).

After the chicken had done a little cooking, the camp cook added heaping spoonfulls of corn bread dough to the bubbling chicken mixture. (Mine looks a lot like Chicken Pot Pie filling). He did this because he knew the cowboys needed bread but he didn't have any other way to cook it. So into the pot went the dough.

When the cowboys came in from the range, they had to do their night chores like putting up saddles and watering horses. Then they washed their hands and faces. (My kids eyes bugged out of their heads - AND FACES!) The cook always checked and if there was dirt behind the ears or under the fingernails, the cowboys were sent back to wash up again. And no one wanted to get sent back because that meant you would be last in line for chow (which, I explained, means dinner).

Well, Chicken and Dumplings were so popular with the cowboys that they asked the cook to make it for them every single Wednesday.

The end

FWIW, that's not really the origin of Chicken and Dumplings. The point of the story was to get my kids to eat dinner. My three year old, who is like Mikey from the Life commercials ("He never eats anything.") ate three bowls. My other "Mikey," who is even worse, ate two helpings. My biggest boy, Will, had two large helpings and a big smile. My husband (who came late and heard the legend retold by my 5 year old) asked if there were leftovers he could take with him for lunch tomorrow.

This is my very own recipe (and legend) for Cowboy Chicken and Dumplings.
2 large chicken breasts (about 1 pound)
1/2 cup chopped onions
1/2 cup milk
1/2 shredded cheddar cheese
1 cup frozen peas and carrots
1 can sweet corn
1/2 cup chicken stock
1 teaspoon thyme (dried)
2 teaspoons arrowroot

1 box of Jiffy corn bread mix
1/3 cup milk
1 egg

Cook the chicken up in a big stock pot with a tablespoon of oil added to it so the chicken doesn't create a horrible mess for you to have to chip off the bottom of the pan later. I like to cut the chicken with my kitchen scissors as I hold it with tongs over the pan. I don't like cutting raw chicken on a cutting board.

Use a stove top if you must. There would be lots more drama and dare I say, eating, if you cook this over a campfire, which you can seriously do.

When the chicken is fully cooked (not pink on the inside) add the onions. (I like to use sweet onions because they don't make me cry). Sautee until the onions are browned around the edges (or translucent if you prefer your onions to blend in).

Add milk, chicken stock, cheese, peas n carrots, corn and thyme. Stir. When mixture is hot spoon a little of the liquid out into that measuring cup you used for the milk (why make more dirty dishes). Add 2 teaspoons of the arrowroot to the hot liquid. Stir. When the liquid is dissolved (it takes 3 seconds) pour it into the pot. Stir it all up. When the liquid begins to thicken add the corn bread topping.

In a seperate bowl mix up the corn bread mix according to the instructions on the box. Drop big ugly glops of it over the chicken mixture. Cover tightly with a lid.

The steam in the pot will cook the cornbread. Why do it this way? My dear husband and several kids don't like the texture of cornbread. It's too dry, they tell me. Steaming the bread creates a wonderfully moist texture.

I left the pot on the stove for about 20 minutes and in that time, the bread soaked up all the yummy gravy. The mixture didn't have any pot pie-type sauce/ gravy left. Again, for my gravy suspicious family, this was good but if you want a creamier Chicken and Dumplings, experiment - try more milk, try leaving the stock pot on for a shorter period of time, try cooking it in the oven (though this will increase cooking time).

Four of four stars for easy.
Four of four stars for inexpensive.
Four of four stars for eaten and enjoyed by everyone in the family.
One of four stars for looks but that's cowboy food for you.

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Another New Year, Another Random Post

Several things of note as I wait for Sims 3 to load on my computer. (It's like waiting for Jumpman to load on a Commodore 64. I can go make a grill cheese, come back and the game isn't finished loading yet).

1. Regarding diets and detoxes for this year. I'm wavering between detoxing and dismissing the detox as junk science. I started to "detox" a week ago in an attempt to stop my back jiggle from getting worse. A virus derailed all progress, which, I have to say, wasn't remarkable. So I have soured on the detox mostly because I didn't like the side effects of irritability and hunger. I'll lose the weight. I always do. Probably by way of the Coffee Diet or the Wine Diet.

2. Presidential debates are producing vivid dreams wherein I attend church, receive Communion, and am harangued by Ann Coulter not to vote for "Eye of" Newt Gingrich. Dreams are probable side effect of the detox.

3. I can finally, truthfully, post the following bumper sticker on my car: "Proud parent of a child who jammed a Lego up his nose." Lego was removed thanks to a solid coaching session of nose blowing by my DH.

4. If I hear one more child ask me where Darth Vader's head is, I am going to explode. My unvoiced rant, "Look here you little destructo-bot, when I was little I didn't bite the head off of my action figures. Yes, I may have cut my Barbie's hair, ONE TIME. And yes, I drew a goatee on one with a ball point pen because my mom wouldn't let me have a Ken. But biting the head off of Darth Vader is too Ozzy. It needs to stop. Do you want people to think you're a psychopath? Do you want to choke on it? Don't roll your eyes at me. Choking hazards are very real. I almost died choking on a penny when I was four. So there you go. Keep this up and you've got less than a year to live because if I can choke, so can you. And while I'm at it, keep the friggin couch cushions on the couch. We don't live in a tent in the middle of the Arabian desert. Until then, pillows don't go on the floor."

5. Game is finally loaded. You'll have to find another diversion.

Saturday, January 7, 2012

Turkey Thy Name Is Dinner

We butchered Christmas today. He was supposed to have been butchered by Christmas but we were too busy. To butcher that bird, I needed a whole day... and help.

Today, help arrived but they didn't know they were help when they arrived. Truth be told, I didn't know we would be butchering the bird today.

A word about the bird. The turkey was the last one of four. Two were killed by our dog and another was killed in the night by what we think was a fox. Christmas was our last bird standing. He lived with our chickens and was free to walk about and live and grow. And grow he did. He was massive. We guessed that he weighed forty or fifty pounds and would give us a nice, 30 pound carcass after he was plucked and cleaned.

My husband had decided to go on a hike today with some of his brothers and nephews, a dude hike. Everyone met at our house. My brother and his family also stopped in. Perfect day for a turkey kill. The dudes gamely gathered the materials - ax, machete, knives, garbage cans, a table and a cutting board.

The plan was for two able bodied men to carry the turkey to the chopping block. John and my brother went into the coop to get the bird. He (the bird) resisted. They called an audible and brought the killing equipment into the coop. The chickens went CRAZY. They flapped and jumped and squawked. The turkey wasn't happy but we moved quickly.

The first cut didn't kill the bird. In fact, he got away and had to be caught again. The second cut was the kill cut. It was messy and difficult and I think a bit shocking to all of us. Chickens are much, much easier to kill. But don't despair if you have turkeys, ours was abnormally large and I'll get to that in a minute.

After the bird was killed, one of the men attempted to pick it up. To his surprise, he discovered that it couldn't be easily lifted. Another man helped and they stumbled out of the coop with the heavy body over to a tree where they tied the bird upside down to bleed out.

The plucking started right away. It was a comedy of errors only outdone by comedy of errors involving the gutting. It took close to two hours to pluck most of the feathers - not all but most. We were losing daylight and had to keep moving.

To say "Then my brother and I gutted the turkey" would be a nice segue but it wasn't that easy. We untied his feet from the tree where he was suspended and moved him to a "bowl" made by lining a hard plastic spare tire cover with a trash bag. (By spare tire cover I mean one for a truck). Think big. That took another hour and a half because the bird was too heavy for either one of us to easily move. It's not normally like this for professionals. I have little experience and am totally paranoid about getting the gallbladder out intact. (It contains this nasty green liquid that if spilled into the cavity of the animal will ruin the taste of anything it touches.)

It took two of us to move the bird, even after it was plucked and cleaned. It barely fit into my gargantuan kitchen sink. I had no pans big enough to hold it.

We used a bathroom scale to weigh the turkey after all was said and done. Turns out the turkey was slightly bigger than our previous guess of 30 pounds after processing.

He is actually 60 pounds.

That SIX ZERO.

Imagine lifting a 60 pound bird into your cart at the store. 20 pounds is big. This one is just huge. We don't know how we're going to prepare it. It won't fit into the oven. Maybe we'll cook it in a pit or over a spit but we're still looking for options.

I'm really excited that we got it done. I'm never going to let another turkey live this long again.

FWIW the largest turkey on record (that I can find) was 86 pounds - alive. Most turkeys weigh between 12-25 pounds after they are processed. The largest wild turkey on record was 37 pounds. Our turkey weighed as much alive as a large breed dog. And this is why he was so difficult and time consuming to kill and process today.