A pie of note

More than half baked...

It was ironic that after Lord Sugar’s derogatory remarks about engineers being useless at business, the winner of The Apprentice was the self-deprecating engineer Tom Pellereau.* Many watching the show hoped that he would be announced joint winner with his fellow contestant Helen Milligan. Indeed, it was only the change of contest rules that prevented the intelligent, effective, efficient, charming (and yes, beautiful) Helen from walking away the clear winner. After all, the pie business that got both contestants into the final was firmly based on her business acumen and experience with a national bakery company.

So maybe that was why making a traditional pie came to mind when planning for another British tradition, a picnic combined with grand opera. “Avoid sloshy food,” intoned husband, mindful of white dinner jackets, silk frocks and the ominous weather forecast for Glyndebourne that weekend. So sturdy food it was to be.

And what could be sturdier than a raised hot water crust pie, originally devised not only as a way of keeping in delicious meat juices without requiring a lidded casserole dish but also to withstand the rigours of transportation by horse drawn coach over rutted roads in the 18th Century. It had been several years since I last enjoyed the tactile pleasure of moulding warm, smooth pastry up the sides of a tin and making flamboyant decorations for the lid.

Layering the pheasant and pork mince

I decided game was the appropriate filling, as the opera that evening was Rusalka, which opens with a royal hunting party in the Bohemian forest. The breasts of a brace of pheasant were marinated in brandy before being layered with spiced minced pork in a hot water pastry crust lined with smoked streaky bacon. The pheasant carcasses were simmered for three hours with herbs and vegetables and the resulting liquid boiled down hard to make an intense stock that would turn to a tasty jelly when cold.

The fun bit...

Removing the pie from its tin for final coating of beaten egg and a further ten minutes in the oven was a nail biting process, despite using a brand new, non-stick, loose bottomed cake tin. More grease next time, I think. The other challenge was ensuring that enough of the liquid stock could penetrate throughout the central hole in the pie to fill the gaps caused by the filling shrinking during cooking. A slow process, but next time I am tempted to drill a couple of additional holes closer to the pie sides, where the biggest gaps are created.

Cut and come again...

Was it worth the work? Absolutely. The Glyndebourne pie gave 12 generous portions and held its shape to look appealing the second (and third) time it appeared on the table. I cannot bring myself to spend £100 on one of those traditional clip fastening pie moulds made by only one company, in France. But I have bought a couple of 4 inch diameter pork pie tins to create tasty pies on a smaller scale – just the thing for picnics, after theatre suppers or lunch following a long muddy walk.

And the opera was magnificent. 

* (See Sugar and spice and all things nice, at http://constructivewomen.blogspot.com)

 

Raised pheasant pie

Filling

500 gm of minced pork (fatty rather than premium lean)

500 gm of thinly cut streaky bacon rashers

500 gm of pheasant, cut from the bone

3 tablespoons of brandy

1 heaped tablespoon of chopped parsley

1/2 teaspoon each of nutmeg, cinnamon, ground cloves

salt and pepper

approx 450 ml of jellied stock (made from the carcasses, or bought)

Hot water crust

450 gm plain flour

200 ml water

175 gm lard

1/2 teaspoon salt

scant tablespoon icing sugar

beaten egg

Method

If making your own stock, prepare the day before and leave to cool. Mix the pork mince with two or three of the bacon rashers chopped small and add the spices, parsley and seasoning. Cut the pheasant meat into neat pieces, about 5cm, and leave in a covered dish with the brandy and some salt and pepper. Keep all the meat cool whilst preparing the pastry.

Sift the flour with salt and icing sugar into a large bowl and make a well in the middle. Bring water and lard to the boil in a medium sized pan and pour into the well, mixing it with a wooden spoon. (Take care when pouring the water and lard, as it can splatter up dramatically against the side of the pan.) Keep mixing until the pastry forms into a smooth, elastic ball. Cover and leave in a warm place for it to cool enough to handle comfortably.

Smoothing the warm elastic dough...

Put about a quarter of the pastry on one side (for the pie lid) and put the remaining pastry into a well greased cake tin (approx 18 cm diameter, 8 cm deep) with a removable base. Shape the pastry up the sides of the tin, making sure that the base is evenly covered and that there are no cracks or gaps. If it slides down the tin, the pastry is a little too hot, so leave it for a few minutes before trying again.

Line the bottom and lower sides of the pastry with the bacon rashers, followed by a layer of mince, a layer of pheasant, a layer of mince, a layer of pheasant and finally a layer of mince. Pack the filling in gently, mounding it slightly in the middle. Pour in the remains of the marinade brandy.

Moisten the rim of the pastry with beaten egg and top with the reserved pastry rolled out for the lid. Knock up the edges and trim, make a hole in the centre and insert of small tube of rolled card (to let the steam out and to allow the jelly to be poured in after cooking). Brush the lid generously with beaten egg. Have fun cutting out decorations from the pastry trimmings, position them on the lid and brush again with egg.

Bake for 30 minutes at Mark 6, 400 degrees F, 200 degrees C, then lower the heat to Mark 3, 325 degrees F, 170 degrees C for a further 1.5 to 2 hours. Remove from the oven, allow to cool a little then carefully remove from the tin (leaving the pie on the loose base), brush the sides with beaten egg and return to the oven for another 10 minutes or so to brown.

Gently does it...

Remove the pie from the oven and whilst still hot, carefully remove and discard the card roll from the central hole and gently pour the stock, warmed up sufficiently to be just liquid, into the pie, allowing it to flow into the meat and fill the gaps. This is requires patience and it is tricky to gauge the amount, but the pie should take at least 200 ml of stock. Leave the pie overnight before serving. 

Serve with damson jelly (see Wild and free blog).  

 

Wild and free – or the art of self-preservation

On family walks when I was a child, my mother always had a couple of bags in her pocket, for blackberries or crab apples, chestnuts or cob nuts, sloes or rosehips. She saw the invention of the polythene bag as a particular gift to foragers, especially when it came to the juicier fruits. In later years mum believed that the environmental impact of too many plastic bags was cancelled out by the benefits of gathering nature’s beneficence. She was also of the generation that washed and dried her plastic bags for re-use.

Foraging remains an important part of our walks in the country, not to mention in towns and cities too. A couple of years ago we discovered in the valley half a mile or so from the cottage, a clump of wild damson trees laden with small round purple fruits. The bounty generated jars of sharp and flavoursome plum jam, rekindling enjoyment in teatime toast and sponge cake. I also discovered the pleasures of crystal clear, crimson damson jelly, which heightens the flavour of roast meats and game. Not to mention the thrifty satisfaction of converting the leftover pulp from jelly making into damson cheese - just as delicious with cheddar and brie as those smart little pots of membrillo from upmarket stores..

Alas, hopes of replenishing the store cupboard last year vanished thanks to a broken wrist. So it was with great anticipation that we set off last week down into the valley to inspect, and hopefully gather, the 2011 wild damson harvest. Grandchildren entered into the foraging spirit with gusto, especially four year old Finlay, who was keen to use the bent-wire-coathanger-on-a-walking stick tool devised to reach the higher branches.

We returned with three kilos of damsons, plus another two kilos of larger and sweeter fruit discovered on plum trees in one of the secret little lanes that criss-cross the village. Then we picked a few of the apples from our tree to add to the blackberries from the brambles in the churchyard for a quick pudding.

The next evening, as I gathered jam jars and jelly bags for sterilizing, rinsed the preserving pan, organised thermometer, labels and pens, the sky above the hills turned to a glorious crimson – just the colour of damson jam as it bubbles and swirls in the pan.

And a few days later, my larder is re-filled with pots and jars of preserves of fruits foraged and gathered for free. The only costs are sugar and vinegar from the village shop, plus the cooking fuel.

Wild damson jam

Put one kilo of damsons, washed and with stalks removed, into a preserving pan with 1.4 litres of water. Bring to the boil and then simmer gently until the fruit is soft. The dark skins will split, revealing golden flesh and then the whole lot turns a lovely rich crimson.

Add one kilo of granulated sugar, stir until completely dissolved and then bring to the boil. The small stones will begin to float to the surface, so scoop them up with a perforated spoon and then remove them with a teaspoon. (Sounds fiddly, but far, far easier and quicker than stoning damsons before cooking.)

Cook at a fast boil for a set (105 degrees C or 225 degrees F on a sugar thermometer). Remove from the heat and leave to cool for 10 minutes, skim off any scum and remaining stones, then pour carefully into hot, sterilized jars and seal. Label when cold.

Damson and apple jelly

The beauty of jelly making is that you don’t need to stone or peel the fruit first, simply wash. Put 900g of damsons into a pan with 450g of tart apples, (chopped and including cores and skin), 150ml of cider vinegar and 750ml of water.

Bring to the boil, reduce the heat and simmer until the fruit is soft and pulpy. Pour the fruit and juices carefully into a sterilized jelly bag suspended over a large bowl and leave to drip (at least three hours, or preferably overnight.

Measure the strained juice into the cleaned preserving pan, adding 450g of granulated sugar to every 600ml of juice. Bring to the boil, stirring to ensure the sugar is dissolved, then boil rapidly for a set (105 degrees C or 225 degrees F).

Remove from the heat, skim any scum, then pour into warm,

sterilized jars. Cover and seal while hot. Use within two years.

Damson and apple cheese

Remove the pulp from the jelly bag, stir in enough hot water to make a soft puree, then push through a sieve.Weigh the puree and put into a clean pan with an equal weight of sugar (eg 450g of sugar to 450g of puree). Stir to dissolve then simmer the mixture until it is so thick that the spoon leaves a clear line when drawn across the pan. (I call it the Red Sea test). Stir frequently to avoid sticking and burning. Spoon the fruit cheese into warmed sterilized jars (preferably with straight sides) and seal. Alternatively put into small ramekins, cover with cling film and refrigerate - but eat within a month.

These recipes come from the excellent The Complete Book of Preserves & Pickles, Jams, jellies, Chutneys & Relishes, written by Catherine Atkinson and Maggie Mayhew. ISBN 1-84477-016-8. The book also contains very useful advice on sterilizing and sealing, together with stockists of preserving equipment.

All photographs taken by Sandi in her Cotswold kitchen.