12. Sunday Supper

Every Saturday started with my father calling up the stairs to our bedrooms with the question, “Who wants mom to make pancakes?!” To which we would all cheer, “We do”! Now, I can safely say that my dad never actually asked my mother if she wanted to make pancakes. I can also close my eyes and see her expression upon hearing this call and response. My father once said that my mother would get up early and sit in the dark drinking her coffee and think about all of the mistakes she made in her life. Certainly there were mornings when my father and we children were among them. I would encourage all people who grew up in the 50s and 60s to apologize to their mothers, either in person or through prayer. Right now. We were oblivious to the expectations put on women at the time. 

Our father took us to Como Zoo or some other kid-centered attraction every Saturday after pancakes. Sometimes we would take neighbor kids as well. On one infamous Saturday with neighbor kids in tow, we went to the zoo and upon our return my mother asked where my sister Fanny was. Well, Fanny was left behind. Sometimes there’s just too much for a father to keep track of, but my sister brings it up periodically even now, in case any of us should forget. We kids never asked ourselves, “What does Mom do when we go to the zoo on Saturday mornings?” Well, it turns out Mom was cleaning and shopping for groceries while we were at the zoo. 

Weekend cooking was distinctively different from weekday cooking in our house. While this is primarily due to having a working mother and the existence of school lunch programs, it was also centered around church going. Saturday lunch was often hamburgers and Saturday supper was typically steak. This by virtue of the fact that we had a relative who was a butcher and we bought a side of beef each year to supplement what our garden, our orchard and my father’s hunting and fishing provided. I loved to make steak sandwiches with toast, but my father believed that you shouldn’t use good meat for sandwiches. Who knew? Someone needs to tell that to all the restaurants that serve steak sandwiches. The biggest and most formal meal of the week was Sunday dinner, which was served after church. Our family went to the early service (there was a painted plate over the door between the kitchen to the living room that read, “The Early Bird Gets the Worm”). This gave our mother three hours between church and dinner time (noon) to prepare a meal. The centerpiece of Sunday dinner was always beef, with pot roast a favorite, which was baked with potatoes, carrots, and a green vegetable (of course).

Increasingly, while we were eating healthy, home-cooked meals, other families were eating fast food and prepared foods as encouraged by the food companies based in our Minnesota backyards. Pillsbury and General Mills among them. Our Sunday supper eventually became the only meal of the week that our mother did not prepare, and the only meal that we could eat while watching television in the living room. There was no meal protocol for Sunday Supper. We didn’t have to say grace, we didn’t need to assemble and eat at the same time, we didn’t need to ask to be excused from the table and most importantly, we didn’t have to wait until our eldest sister, Becky, finished eating before we could have dessert. In every family there is someone who takes twice as long to eat as everyone else, chewing casually like livestock. These are the same people who actually drive the speed limit.

Do you remember TV trays? Do they still exist? Are they still called that? Ours were stacked in their own rack in the corner of the living room, were considered “decorative” and only used for Sunday Supper. We ate what were then called “TV dinners” in aluminum trays with each food item in its own individual compartment. They were relatively new at the time, and it made us feel quite modern. TV dinners were fun but my favorite was Swanson’s Pot Pies, either chicken or turkey, with the meat identified in their punctured crusts with either a “C” or a “T”. I’m smiling as I’m writing this as I recall my pleasure in eating a pot pie in the living room while watching The Wonderful World of Disney, The Dinah Shore Show or Bonanza. To this day, chicken pot pie is one of my favorite meals.

This history leads us to my standard for what Sunday supper should be, a tradition that continues to baffle Eric, who didn’t grow up with this Sunday tradition. It goes like this: Sunday supper should be casual, and preferably a one-pot or defrosted meal. For most of us, what we grew up with or what we are used to is normal. At least it is our normal.

If Eric and I have company on a Sunday evening, Eric’s natural tendency would be to view it as he would any other dinner party, and so the world of recipes would be open to him. This is one of those situations where our partners eventually just get worn down by our expectations. It’s not even worth it to him to argue with me anymore. I’m just not going to be happy, and to use his term, Sunday supper doesn’t want to be formal or multi-coursed.

Of course, dessert is not considered a separate course on Sundays, and is included (naturally) in my expectations of the perfect Sunday supper.

Chicken Pot Pie with Biscuit Crust

Chris isn’t alone in eating frozen pot pies as a child. In my family pot pies were “babysitter food” which we kids enjoyed when our parents went out for the evening. We loved those pies precisely because they were so different from the “normal” fare my mother would prepare for us, they were almost exotic. I thoroughly enjoyed them as a child, but I admit I don’t hold the same nostalgia for them now that Chris does.

The recipe below is adapted from Savoring the Seasons cookbook, by Beth Dooley and Lucia Watson. For decades Lucia Watson owned and operated Chris’ absolute favorite restaurant in the Twin Cities. The room at Lucia’s was elegant but not stuffy, and the food was always fresh, seasonal and thoughtfully prepared. It managed to offer both “Saturday night” and “Sunday night” food at the same time. I first made this pot pie for Chris at a time when he needed some extra comforting. As a firm believer that food can help heal, I wanted to actually make his pot pie from scratch rather than just a frozen Swanson pot pie. This recipe did the trick, as I recall. Chris loved the dinner as well as the gesture. While I am always tempted to spice this recipe up a bit (“doctoring it up”, as my mother would say), such fiddling with the spices in this recipe would not do when Chris is yearning for a nostalgic, comfort food. My note in the margin of the cookbook reads “Serve only for Chris”, and indeed I only make this for him when he needs it. Its ability to calm and reassure Chris makes this dish surprisingly powerful. ~Eric

Filling:
3 cups chicken stock
3 carrots, diced
2 stalks of celery, diced
1 cup diced onions
1/2 cup whole milk
1/4 tsp ground nutmeg
1/4 cup corn kernels
1 lb chicken breasts
2 medium potatoes peeled & diced
1/2 stick of butter
4 tbsp flour
1/2 tsp dried thyme
1/4 cup peas
Salt and pepper to taste

Biscuit Crust:
1 1/2 cups flour
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 stick butter, cut into bits
1 egg
1/2 tsp baking powder
3/4 tsp salt
1/3 cup grated sharp cheddar cheese
1/2 cup buttermilk
Egg wash (1 egg yolk with 1 tbsp milk)

For the filling:

1. Bring stock to simmer and add chicken meat, and poach for 20 minutes, then remove meat and set aside. Dice meat when cooled.

2. Add carrots, potatoes and celery to stock and simmer until soft, about 5 minutes.

3. Drain and reserve both stock and vegetables separately.

4. In a deep skillet melt butter and cook onions until soft, then add flour and cook for a few minutes to thicken a little and create a very light roux.

5. Slowly add 2 cups of chicken stock, in a stream and stirring constantly to thin the roux.

6. Continue with the milk and bring to a slow boil.

7. Add thyme and nutmeg, and cook 5 minutes before tasting again to adjust seasoning.

8. Add peas, corn, diced chicken and cooked vegetables and stir to combine.

9. Turn mixture into a buttered casserole dish or deep pie tin and make the crust.

For the crust:

1. Sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt.

2. Cut in the butter until dough resembles coarse meal, then toss in the grated cheese.

3. Whisk the egg with the buttermilk and add to flour mixture slowly, stirring constantly to make a soft dough.

4. Turn dough out onto a lightly floured board and pat into a large round.

5. Cut dough into 2 and a 1/2 inch circles.

6. Place biscuits on top of chicken filling and brush with the egg wash.

7. Bake in preheated 425 degrees for for 20-25 minutes, or until biscuits are a golden brown.

Serves 6-8