Michigan

Today we say Yah to da UP, eh! The quintessential Michigan food is the pasty (that's with a short "a" sound, in case you're wondering), meat and root vegetables wrapped in a pastry crust. The dish was brought to the area by Cornish miners, who, like West Virginia miners, needed a convenient lunch meal.

We used ground beef for ours, though they're often filled with game, chopped steak or just vegetables. I mixed the beef with minced onion and garlic and added salt, pepper and a little worchestershire sauce. For the pastry, I made a double batch of a basic pie crust. I added an egg to the crust dough and used a little less water; this seems to give it a bit more stretch and makes it easy to wrap the filling.

I cut the crust into circles about 4 inches in diameter. With 1 lb of beef and onions, this yielded 15 pasties. I also added diced potatoes to half of them. To put them together, I put a couple tablespoons of filling in the middle of the dough circle and folded it over, pinching the edges together. I brushed them all with egg wash and baked them for about 30 minutes at 375 degrees.

On the side, fresh cherries, of course!

These smelled fantastic while they were in the oven. The end result was, for me, a little disappointing. All of the recipes I read suggested that the meat went into the pastry raw. Cooking the meat in the pastry caused it to tighten up and it had the consistency of a rather dry meatball. My brother, who lives in northern Michigan says he always cooks the filling first; I'll try that next time. Everyone else was perfectly satisfied with the meal, Marc and Lucy especially. Maia thought the meat was too spicy.

The pasties have not seen the last of me--meat in pastry just has to be good!

This was our dinner to draw the next four (always an exciting evening)! Coming up next: Wyoming, Texas, New York and Kansas!

South Dakota

We are back in Dakota territory. Our recent trip to South Dakota did not provide much in terms of inspiration for our meal, though we did eat well. South Dakota has two official state foods: kuchen is the state dessert, and fry bread is the state bread. The state is rich in both Native American and frontier traditions (often, of course, these two met with tragic results).

The Ingalls family might be South Dakota's most famous pioneers. One place we didn't get to visit during our vacation this summer was DeSmet, the home of the Ingalls family for many years and the site of Little Town on the Prairie and The Long Winter. For this dinner, we decided to honor Ma Ingalls and prepare one of the most commonly mentioned meals in the Little House series: Chicken Pie.


You might remember in Little Town on the Prairie, a plague of blackbirds descends upon the crops of corn and oats. Pa guards the fields with his shotgun, bringing down hoards of the birds. Ma, never one to waste anything, baked the blackbirds into a pie, which the family declared better than the chicken pie. I opted for chicken for our meal.

Chicken pie gets a lot of mention in pioneer cooking, but it was difficult to find an actual recipe. This seems to be a dish that every one just knows how to make, or each cook has her own way of doing it. As a kid, Swanson's frozen Chicken Pot Pies made the occasional appearance on our table, and they were always one of my favorites. We made a basic chicken pie filling, though with fewer vegetables than what you might find in the frozen varieties.

Marc was in charge of the filling. Since it is easier to get the meat off of the bone if it's cooked, he started by roasting two thigh/leg quarters. These came from one of our favorite local meat suppliers.

Season with salt and pepper and sear the meat in 1 T olive oil, skin-side down, over medium high heat, so that it gets brown and crispy. Then roast the pieces in the oven at 425 degrees until the meat is done (15-20 minutes). We threw some potatoes in to roast too, these will be eaten later as leftovers rather than in the chicken pie.

While the meat is cooking, dice one large onion, a few stalks of celery and a few carrots. When the meat is done, remove it from the pan and set aside. When it's cool enough to handle, remove the meat from the bones. Discard the skin and save the bones for stock later.

Now you can use the good pan drippings for the base of the sauce. Over medium heat, whisk about 1/3 cup of flour to the pan drippings and continue stirring until it forms a paste (congratulations, you've just made a roux!). If the chicken hasn't rendered enough fat naturally, feel free to add some butter or oil here. You want about equal parts fat and flour for a roux.


Add the vegetables to the roux and cook until they soften slightly, then add chopped garlic, thyme salt and pepper, followed by the chicken meat. Blend everything together well and slowly add about 2 cups of chicken stock. You want to make sure the roux is well incorporated into the stock. If you like a thinner consistency, add more stock.

The filling can be made ahead. You want it to be at least room temperature before you introduce the crust.

I'm the official pie-crust maker in our family am generally of the point of view that any food is improved when enclosed in pastry. I used my standard method for one pie crust--1 cup of flour, 1/3 cup butter and a pinch of salt. Cut the cold butter into the flour and salt with a pastry blender and add just enough ice water for the dough to come together. This is usually about 1/4 cup for me. I divided the dough into fourths and made each into a flat circle. These were individually wrapped in saran wrap and refrigerated while the oven came up to temperature.

Rather than make one large pie, I used little ramekins that I found at a thrift store for $.50 a piece. These are perfect for individual macaroni and cheese or desserts. When the dough had cooled (cold dough is easier to work with and results in a flakier crust), Lucy helped me roll it out.


I divided the filling evenly between four ramekins--about 3/4 cup of filling each, and topped with a crust. These baked at 375 degrees for about 25 minutes.


So, after all that work, how did it go? Both kids were horrified at the appearance of the filling. They are averse to any mixed, mushy or soupy foods, so I wasn't sure how this would go over. Maia tried hers right away and deemed it "OK" (interpreted here). Lucy spent a lot of time talking about it and poking at it before she would take a bite. When she did try it, it was only to pick off some crust. One can't try the crust without the filling, however, and she found the flavor of the sauce to her liking. This resulted in much more conversation about what "savory" means and how interesting it is that everything in the sauce tastes like the sauce, even if it's something you don't normally like (like a cooked carrot) etc, etc... In the end, she was completely won over and declared that chicken pie would be a fine addition to the fall and winter dinner rotation.

Whew.

Next: back east (a little) to Michigan

Hawaii

Did you wonder what we might do for Hawaii....? All the delicious possibilities--fish, pork, tropical fruit, Asian cuisine....

We went with a classic:


Yup...SPAM!

I was the only member of our little family who had ever eaten SPAM. It was actually not terribly uncommon in our house when I was a kid. My mom, who lived in Hawaii when she was very young, liked it with eggs. Interestingly, Hawaiians consume more SPAM than residents of any other state. It was sent with the troops during WWII and became an instant hit among the locals. It was a good culinary addition to the tropical climate--convenient calories that don't require refrigeration. Plus, the salty, spicy meat was quickly integrated into the Asian and Pacific dishes that were already popular.



This was definitely a quick and easy meal to prepare. I sliced one can of SPAM and fried the pieces lightly in peanut oil.

On the side, we served fresh green beans and pineapple. I've only recently come to appreciate how much better a pineapple is when you cut it up yourself--the canned variety just can't compete.

Unfortunately, our pineapple was shipped from Cost Rica, rather than Hawaii--but we did the best we could!

I put hot dog buns on the table, thinking most of us would prefer these in sandwich form. I added a little mustard and relish:

Chomp!

The meal got generally positive reviews, though not overwhelmingly so. Maia thought that it tasted a lot like a hot dog; Lucy said it was "too spicy" to be a hot dog. My memory of SPAM was that it was very salty, and this was spicier than I remember. It does stand for "spiced ham," so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised.

I don't see this becoming a regular part of our repertoire, but it seems appropriate that our little project includes this all-American meat (or, meat-like-product, if you prefer)!

Next stop: South Dakota!

Minnesota

I'm going to start here:

because that's what our plates looked like at the end of this meal. All of them. I never thought I would say this, but...my kids like fish. You might wonder why this is such a big deal. In the past, we have struggled to get them to eat the most basic things, particularly protein. I nearly wept for joy when Lucy finally ate a hot dog. A hot dog, for crying out loud! Not something I want to feed my kids everyday, but some basic "everybody-likes-this" food so that I could stop being the parent who had to bring peanut butter sandwiches to every picnic.

So, now, when my kids eat Walleye and wild rice pilaf and say "can we have this again?" I'm kind of bowled over.

This meal was easy to plan, we knew long before we drew Minnesota out of the box that Walleye and wild rice would be the dish. Walleye is a big deal in the Land of 10,000 Lakes. I have a good vegetarian friend from Minnesota who will only touch animal flesh if it is Walleye (and it was the only non-vegetarian option at her wedding). Recipes from fish and game sites in the upper midwest are saturated with grilled, broiled, baked, seared and fried versions of the fish. Wild rice (which is not related to the more common Asian rice at all, but is an entirely different grass seed) has been harvested by indigenous people in what is now the northern U.S. for thousands of years.

The fillets had the skin intact, which I removed with a sharp knife. They were large, and getting the skin off cleanly was more difficult the little blue gills and bass that I caught on our farm when I was a kid. The trick is to keep the knife flat, and cut yourself a little slit on one side to brace your finger and hold the fillet steady.

(Now you see the full extent of the mess in which I normally cook!)

I had never prepared Walleye before, but figured that like any light freshwater fish, it would be fine baked with olive oil, salt, pepper and lemon. The fillets went into a baking dish and into the oven for about 10 minutes at 400 degrees.

The rice pilaf was quite simple as well. I cooked one cup of brown rice and one cup of wild rice, separately, in chicken stock before mixing them together. The wild rice takes longer to cook (about an hour) and requires more liquid. I used 2 C stock to 1 cup brown rice and 3 C stock for the 1 cup of wild rice. I toasted a handful of slivered almonds in a cast iron skillet and added them to the rice mixture along with salt, pepper and thyme. Fresh parsley would have been nice, but I didn't have any.

This turned out to be very tasty. Maia, who normally hates rice of any kind, asked me to pack leftovers in her lunch tomorrow.

We rounded out the meal with some fresh cantaloupe and watermelon and a tomato "salad" (cut tomato with salt, pepper, olive oil and balsamic vinegar) all from our CSA.


Good stuff, you betcha!

Next stop: Hawaii!

North Dakota

I have to say, this one had us stumped for a while. We knew that North Dakota is a big producer of semolina wheat, but it seemed like cheating to just eat pasta and call it a North Dakota meal. There are large populations of people from both German and Scandinavian descent in North Dakota, and of course Native American influences. The Dakotas were named after the Dakota Sioux and and there are several bands of Sioux, as well as Chippewa and other tribes living in the Dakotas now.

One dish that came up on several google searches (you see how scientific we are here) was knoephla soup--a cream based chicken stew with dumplings. After our recent experience with Rhode Island Clam Chowder, however, no one was really up for another rich soup. The Norwegians in the area also contributed Lutefisk, but we live close enough to Minnesota to know to stay far away from such a thing.

Eventually, I found some information from North Dakota State University that had several German dishes, including Spaetzle. Strangely, the only time I've ever eaten spaetzle was in my college's dining hall. But, it seemed like a good place to start.

The focus on the German influence led us, eventually, to Schnitzel. Basically, fried meat--this is usually a good choice for us! I think, though, that Schnitzel is probably not the most authentic of North Dakota cuisine as it's actually a dish from Austria and most of the German immigrants in North Dakota were of Russian descent. So, apologies to all the German Americans out there for indiscriminately blending all of the regional variations into one large category!

For the Spaetzle, I found a recipe written by Arlene Isaak and submitted to the Bismark Tribune:

4 eggs
1/2 cup milk
3 1/4 cups flour
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1/2 tsp salt

Beat eggs until foamy and combine with milk. Mix flour, nutmeg and salt and add to egg mixture a little at a time. Makes a soft dough. While the soup is boiling, drizzle the dough into the soup or use a spaetzle maker. The tiny dumplings will rise to the surface when cooked.

Maia mixes the spaetzle dough

This was a completely new thing to prepare for me, and I think I kind of made a mess of it--the dumplings were not "tiny" as Arlene suggests, but rather spiky, messy blobs of dough. But, they were soft and satisfying so I hope Arlene will forgive me. I drizzled a little olive oil and sprinkled them with salt before serving. Lucy liked these a lot and requested them in her lunch tomorrow.

For the Schnitzel, I used pork tenderloins from our favorite local pork producer. These were seasoned with salt and pepper, then dredged in flour, egg, and bread crumbs before frying in peanut oil. Basically, you get a fried pork tenderloin--but you don't serve it as a sandwich!

There was lots of confusion in our house--which was the schnitzel and which was the spaetzle!? I'm pleased to say, that we all liked both of them, whatever they're called! (Well, except Marc, who was not fond of the rather bland spaetzle). We also served a kale salad, which has become a favorite in our house. The feta and pine nuts are far from traditional German fare, but it was a nice crisp and acidic complement to the rest of the meal.


This was our meal to draw the next four, coming up next: Minnesota, Hawaii, South Dakota and Michigan!

Louisiana

This is Maia again. We did Louisiana yesterday. I wanted to do this post because in fourth grade, (last year) all the third and fourth graders did state reports, and I did Louisiana. One interesting fact: Louisiana is the only known place in the world that is home to the rare white alligator.

We had shrimp and andouille (pronounced an-do-eee) sausage jambalaya and cornbread for this meal. Lucy and I only liked the shrimp in the jambalaya and the cornbread, but Mom and Dad loved it all. We also listened to our favorite Louisiana band, the Red Stick Ramblers.
___

This is Marc. Maia asked me to provide my recipe for jambalaya, so here goes:

Heat a couple tablespoons of oil in a large dutch oven over medium heat. Fry one pound of andouille sausage (1/4" slices) for about 5 minutes until the sausage is nicely browned.

While the sausage browns, chop one large onion, one large bell pepper, and 2-3 large stalks of celery. Add to the the pan when the sausage is brown and stir regularly for about 5 minutes to soften the vegetables.


While the vegetables cook, finely chop 4-5 cloves of garlic and coarsely chop 2 large tomatoes. Add the garlic, some salt and pepper, 2-3 bay leaves, and 4-5 sprigs of fresh thyme (and some cayenne if you like heat). Stir and fry for a minute or two, then add the tomatoes. Stir and cook the tomatoes for another 3-4 minutes.

The Brandywine tomatoes from our garden were delicious!

Rinse and drain 2 cups of long-grain white rice. Add to the pot and stir well to coat the rice with the sausage fat and vegetable oil. Add 4-5 cups chicken stock (homemade is best) and bring to a boil. Cover the pot, reduce the heat to low, and simmer for 20 minutes.

Turn off the heat, add one pound peeled and de-veined shrimp, and stir well. Put the cover on the pot and let it sit for 15 minutes to steam the shrimp.

Remove the bay leaves and thyme stems and enjoy!

And for the grown-ups...a little of this:


Next, we head way north to North Dakota!

Rhode Island

This meal, for the smallest state in the Union, required a bit of research. We were surprised to learn that there are so many unique foods in Rhode Island. I guess when you're the "little guy," you work hard to set yourself apart. Not only do the contrary folk there insist on calling a milkshake a "cabinet," their favorite flavor is coffee. "Coffee Milk" is the state's official beverage and hot dogs are served like nowhere else in the country: a veal/pork weiner, topped with a hearty meat sauce.

Another Rhode Island standard is clam cakes and chowder. The chowder, however, is "clear chowder," no milk or tomatoes, just seafood and vegetables. We had originally planned to prepare clam cakes and chowder, but after last night's fried catfish binge, a clam fritter sounded less than appetizing. Instead, we opted for another Rhode Island classic--spinach pies. Lucy was disappointed that we wouldn't be trying the chowder (I found this surprising, since she usually deems soup only a step above dirt and grass in terms of it's edibility). So, I made the chowder too.

The spinach pie is basically a calzone, but without sauce. Some recipes included cheese (mozzerella and/or ricotta), some didn't. We like cheese, so in it went! For the filling I sauteed a small amount (about 1/4 cup) of minced onion and 2 minced garlic cloves in olive oil. I thawed one 10 oz box of spinach and squeezed out the excess water, then added it to the onion and garlic. I finished it with a bit of salt, pepper and fresh nutmeg. After the mixture cooled a little bit, I added a couple of spoonfuls of ricotta cheese and 1/2-3/4 cup of grated mozzerella cheese.


Marc made a basic, white dough pizza crust. You could easily buy prepared crust if you prefer. He cut it four portions and rolled it out thinly before filling and folding it all together.


The folded pies were brushed with olive oil and sprinkled with salt. We pre-heated a pizza stone in a 475 degree oven and baked these for about 20 minutes. Golden-brown-and-delicious, indeed!

These were big--next time we will probably cut the dough into 8 portions and make smaller, hand-held pies.

And, for the soup. This recipe came from the book Real American Food by Jane and Michael Stern. This "clear" chowder is a Rhode Island classic:

"Dovecrest Quahog Chowder"
1/4 lb salt pork, diced (I used bacon)
1 large onion, diced
2 large potatoes, diced (2 heaping cups)
2 cups water
2 cups very finely diced shucked quahog clams (uh, yeah, you can't get that in Iowa. I used canned)
2 cups clam juice
2 T butter

In a stockpot, fry salt pork until fat is rendered. Add diced onion and cook until light brown. Add diced potatoes and just enough of the water to cover. Cook until potatoes are pierced easily with a fork. Add quahogs, clam juice, butter, and remaining water. Simmer 15-20 minutes.

The authors note that the soup is better the second day--after being refrigerated and reheated.

So, how did it go, you ask? The spinach pie was a big hit with the adults and Maia and Lucy agreed that it was "OK." ("OK" seems to be code for, "I'll eat it, I kind of like it but won't admit it, but don't make me eat it every day.") The soup was less popular, to say the least. Both Marc and I agreed that it needed more flavor--more salt for one, and it would have improved had I added some herbs. Lucy took a tiny bite and said it was awful (remember that she was the one who insisted I make it?). Maia was the most positive, she said it was fine, though she didn't like the potatoes. This was something that put us all out of our culinary comfort zones a bit--not a bad thing.

Next up: Louisiana!