Friday, April 30, 2010

The Farmshare Project: Week 4 [RECIPE]

[Picture a basket full of the stuff listed below because I forgot to take a photo of the bag my neighbors dropped off. Whooopsy. It happens.]

Last week's box had:
Young fava bean pods
Green garlic
Romaine lettuce

And their fate was:
We ate them
Artichokes: Made properly and shared with the neighbors
Broccoli: On a homemade pizza
Young favas: In Finny's Fava Pasta, simple fava salad
Green garlic: On the homemade pizza with the broccoli
Leeks: Pan seared, served as a side dish to I don't remember what
Romaine lettuce: Salad. Shocker.
Mizuna: Citrus salad
Mushrooms: On a different pizza homemade by our neighbors
Strawberries: Plain, for dessert.

We donated them
Chard: SCORE again! Though perhaps my neighbors took it home, since they picked up last week.

We stored them
Carrots: I have a plan for these. I just have to stockpile some more.

We composted them
Apples: These are the last ones from the farm's storage and they were mealy. Better for the compost than the mouth, me thinks.

And now for that beefy riff.

What? You don't remember? Did, "beefy riff" bring something else to mind for you?

Well, then, you're filthy.


Remember even farther back now to the time when I made Pioneer Woman's Leftover Turkey Pot Pie. It was my first time ever making or eating a pot pie of any variety and I will admit it right here, I was surprised that I didn't vomit.

No, really. The concept of pot pies was unknown in my growing up house and I've long associated it with hairy trailer men who gallivant about in their undershirts much like I assume(d) the rest of America did.

Except for Bubba. He associates pot pie with love. In the sense that he loves it. So, being the dutiful husband server that I am (it's weird how I can hear Bubba laughing *right now*), I made this pot pie with the leftovers from our Thanksgiving turkey smoke-a-thon and it was, how should I say, fucking amazing.

I  mean, rullllllllly good. I didn't even picture a hairy man in a wife beater the whole time I was eating it. Though, truth be told, I was wearing a wife beater at the time I was eating it, so perhaps I crossed over into some sort of parallel universe of understanding. I don't know. Let's move on.

Anyway, along came a Monday night on the heels of two spectacular dinners that had nothing to do with turkey: Smoked Pot Roast night and The Best Vegetable Soup Ever night. Both are highly acclaimed dining events in our household because we are the kinds of people who will highly acclaim anything containing smoked meat.

And after spinning his spoon triumphantly in the empty basin of his The Best Vegetable Soup Ever bowl, Bubba asked me a serious question relating to the plans for the remainder of the now leftoverLEFTOVER smoked pot roast.

What if I made a leftover BEEF pot pie like the turkey one but with beef?

Uh, no.

Can you believe I said no? I did. I was like, ew, that's nasty and I already made a menu for this week that doesn't include leftovers. I'm just going to freeze them and then we'll see.

And then I felt like a heel because, of all things, I love to please this man's taste buds and he never complains about a thing I make and he takes leftovers to work to show them off to his boss and I love that.

So, of course, I made the pot pie with the beef and wouldn't you know that it wasn't even close to nasty. In fact, it also was fucking awesome. And now I shall share the recipe.

Finny's Potroast Pie
Recipe by moi

1 pie crust
1/4 stick of butter
1/2 cup diced carrots
1/2 cup frozen peas
1/2 cup diced onions
2 cups of shredded smoked pot roast
1 cup of reserved smoked pot roast stock
1 cup of water
1/4 cup flour
1 T rendered smoked pot roast fat (The goodness. It is indescribable.)
Splash of red wine (I used a Cabernet.)
2 T chopped fresh lemon thyme (or regular, if that's what you have)
Salt and pepper as you please

To make
Preheat oven to 400.

Melt butter in your skillet and add the onions and carrots until they're soft. 

Add in the pot roast and stir it up. 

Add in the flour and stir that up.

Add in the beef stock, water and red wine and stir *that* up.

Bring it all to a boil and then add in the rendered fat. Then think about how much your doctor is going to kick your ass for suddenly starting to cook with fat you rendered your very own self even though you got through life this far without ever having done so and OH that's so bad for your cholesterol, etc. Then forget about it because it TASTES LIKE HEAVEN.

Add the thyme in there and taste the whole mess so that you can add enough salt and pepper. Now add the frozen peas, stir it all up and let it simmer until it's the right consistency to pour into the pan. Like this, but beefier.

Once it's reached the right consistency, pour it into your pie pan, roll the crust over the top, slice a few holes in the top so that your pot roast doesn't suffocate under all that pie crust and bake it until it looks like this:

About 30 minutes

Then serve it up with your pie wedge instead of the spoon you used for the turkey one because you're ridiculous and you want your dinner to look like it just fell off a truck.

Thankfully, it tastes like it just fell off of heaven, so looks don't really matter. This dish would never make it in Hollywood, but neither would I and I'm just as happy hanging out here in NorCal where some people's boobs are real.

Not that natural boobage is a big Quality of Life factor for me, but hey, at least we're still biodegradable, yes?


  1. I make pot pies with biscuit dough for crust, and it is outrageously yummy. This biscuit recipe, specifically:

    Funny, I've never associated pot pie with anything rednecky... just, "hey, that's good."

  2. oh, this is (one reason) why i enjoy your blog so . . . you are so funny and i just love your writing style.

    and recipes!

    but what if there were some mashed potatoes somehow added into the top of that pot roast pie?

  3. MY husband might want to steal you for a little while, because while I indulge most of his eating preferences (basically, All Meat, All the Time) I have still refused to make pie crust. After seven years of marriage.

    Luckily, he has his mother to make up for my failures.


[2013 update: You can't comment as an anonymous person anymore. Too many douchebags were leaving bullshit SPAM comments and my inbox was getting flooded, but if you're here to comment in a real way like a real person, go to it.]

Look at you commenting, that's fun.

So, here's the thing with commenting, unless you have an email address associated with your own profile, your comment will still post, but I won't have an email address with which to reply to you personally.

Sucks, right?

Anyway, to remedy this, I usually come back to my posts and post replies in the comment field with you.

But, if you ever want to email me directly to talk about pumpkins or shoes or what it's like to spend a good part of your day Swiffering - shoot me an email to finnyknitsATgmailDOTcom.