The first chilly, rainy days of the fall make me feel like comfort food. Chicken pot pie was my favorite meal when I was little. Everyone got his own little Swanson's pie in the metal pan, and the steam billowed out when you broke through the crust with your fork. Here is the pie unbaked and egg-washed:
And here it is baked, with the filling. I didn't use a recipe. I roasted a chicken, made a bechamel sauce and mixed it all together with onions and mixed vegetables, fresh sage and thyme and parsley. The crust is whole wheat. It didn't brown as nicely as I would have liked. I think that's partly because it's whole wheat, and partly because I used the convection oven.
I made some little tarts with the leftover dough and filling, with vegetable and leaf cut-outs. Fresh tomato and parmesan tarts used up the last of the dough.
I think I can put these in R's lunch, but I would have to put them in a thermos and break up the decorative crust. She still had fun rolling out the dough and cutting shapes with me. She keeps these tins in her play kitchen downstairs, and I always have to go retrieve them before I bake with them. I bought them when we were planning our wedding, thinking the caterer could use them, and I remember how the man at the garage sale said, "I would think you would not want any little tarts at your wedding." We bought a giant crystal ice bucket at that same sale. It broke when R was a baby and I still grieve for it.
The best thing about tomato harvest: Pizza Margherita with a whole wheat crust. I bake it on a terra cotta stone at 500 degrees. D likes it with half the basil cooked, and half fresh on top after it comes out of the oven. We didn't even get smoked out last night--usually a cheese drip hits the blast-hot oven, but this batch was very tidy.
