Eatinist #2 (Tana) Strikes Again - Turkey Dumpling Soup

 *Eatinst Bitch's Note: We're way past the holidays, obviously, and if you don't want to make this with turkey, go ahead and make this with chicken! It'll still be tasty. Of course I'd do this without dumplings...because I hate them. Take it away, Tana!

My dad's been after me to make a soup out of the leftover turkey from Thanksgiving, because the 22 lb beast "called his name" in the grocery store, and as a result we had entirely too much after all five us polished off our plates.

It began as turkey soup, and then he decided he wanted dumplings as well...I've never made dumplings. And if you know Eatinst #1, you'll know she and I can go 13 rounds on dumplings and whether or not they're suitible for people above the poverty line. Ask her about it sometime!

In any case, where I would normally call her for advice on the best way to construct a dumpling, I was at a loss.

A slight digression: upon his return from the Wisconsin Badger football game the other night, he tossed a bag of Bucky (the mascot) cheese curds at me. This led to a conversation about battering and frying them, which  led me to make a simple churro dough out of flour and water and season the hell out of it. Maybe I could use this batter to make dumplings too.

Last thing before I get to the good stuff: I glanced at a few different recipes, just to get a skeletal idea of the typical ingredients and order of prep. For the most part though, I improvised. The measurements, except for the broth, are all approximations. Oh! And, my stepmom had disposed of the carcass, so I was sans beast bones.

Dumplings:

2 cups Water
1/4 tsp Salt
2 cups of All-purpose Flour
2 tbl Seasoned Salt (Lawry's is fine)
2 tsp Olive Oil or Butter

Combine flour and seasoned salt. Bring water with salt to a boil. Add olive oil and remove from heat. immediately add flour and stir vigorously until combined. Dough will be stiff and not too smooth. Let the dough cool and rest a little and then form into golf-ball shaped balls.

Here you can refrigerate them until you're ready, or if you're set to go, go ahead and boil water in a medium sized saucepan. When the water starts boiling rapidly, drop the dumplings in, taking care to make sure they don't stick together. Let them simmer and bubble for about 5 minutes. You don't want them to get fully cooked. Take them out of the water and set them aside.

Soup:

3 quarts plus one 14.5 oz can of low-sodium chicken broth
2 tbl black pepper (I prefer freshly ground, but the powder stuff is fine)
1 medium onion, chopped fine
5 cloves of garlic, chopped fine
2 tbl dried parsley
1 tsp celery seed
1 tsp kosher salt
1 cup of carrots, diced
3 cups of shredded turkey (you can use a combo of light and dark meat)
1 tbl of olive oil or cooking spray

Using a 4 quart stock pot, heat your broth on high, and add pepper. While waiting for your broth to boil, get your veggies ready. My dad violently opposes celery; I've been threatened with being made to sleep in the garage if I add it to anything I make for him: hence, the celery seed. Also, normally I would chop all the aromatics by hand...my hand got tired and I slap-chopped the hell outta the onions and garlic. Let's be real: there is no loss of dignity in the slap chop.

When your broth has begun to boil, add half the parsley and the celery seed. Continue boiling for 10-15 minutes.

Using the olive oil (or spray), saute the carrots over medium heat. After three minutes, add the onions and garlic. Cook until fragrant and the onions are opaque. The carrots should not yet be tender.

Turn off the heat and add the veg to the boiling broth. Stir to combine and allow to boil for another 10-15 minutes. Add the rest of the parsley and the turkey and continue to boil for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Take this time to make sure your seasonings are in order, don't forget to taste the broth. Throw your dumplings into the pot and boil for another 5 minutes, or until the dumplings are fork tender.

Congratulations! You have turkey dumpling soup (no picture because...well, I forgot and it was really tasty, and we ate it too fast)! My brothers ate theirs with oyster crackers, though I happened to have some homemade Parker House rolls on hand that were ideal for dunking.

My father's final word? "You know what's the best part of this soup? I don't have to dodge any celery."

Guest Post From Miss Tana (aka Eatinist #2)!

Howdy! Eatinist 1 is recovering from a marathon pie-baking she embarked upon the other night to compete in the Greenpoint Open Studios Pie Bake-Off, so I, Eatinist Bitch 2 for the purposes set forth here, will be your guest blogger today.

Last Saturday my stemom and I were walking through the produce aisle in Wal-Mart when I exclaimed in squeals of exaltation "Key limes! OhMyGod! Key limes!" I had been on the hunt for the elusive fruit for the last two summers in New York but seemed to keep missing their season. I knew they could be found because 1) my boss's wife had made Key lime pie from fresh Key lime juice and 2) it's New York. Of course there are Key limes to be found somewhere.

Either way, I hadn't seen any. And here I am, just over a month in rural Wisconsin, getting used to the fact that I can't find any decent Indian food, and here I've stumbled upon Key limes in the abundant produce aisle of The Evil Empire. I wonder who Sam Walton had to sell his soul to in order to get bags and bags of that adorable little fruit shipped to The Middle Of Nowhere, Middle America.

So I snagged two bags of limes, on the off-chance that this was a blip in the universe and, contrary to my stepmother's reassurances that they have them almost year-round, I'd never see them again. Carpe Diem, etc. But I didn't have a recipe handy and I know that the recipe for the pie is almost important as using fresh Key limes (don't get it twisted-- you want Key limes and you don't want them bottled. Unless you don't really like pie. Then it doesn't matter, does it?), so I didn't pick anything else up. After checking with Eatinist 1 for a recipe recommendation, I finally got to the one place in town that carries sweetened condensed milk (it's a small town), corralled my little brother, Ben, and got to it!

Ben loves to bake. He doesn't get too many opportunities as his mother's not big on baking and my dad's diabetic and loves things he can't want (and usually isn't willing to make things that are diabetic-friendly). But since I'm living with them and get restless when I go too long without presiding over and communing with the oven, Ben and I have begun baking together.

The recipe is from Joy of Baking and can be found here. Because I can never leave well enough alone, I amended it a titch. We'll get there.

Key Lime Pie

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F (177 degrees C) and place the rack in the center of the oven.

Graham Cracker Crust

1 1/4 c (25 g) graham cracker crumbs (can use crushed digestive biscuits)

2 tblsp (30 g) granulated white sugar

6 1/2- 7 tblsp (70-85 g) unsalted butter, melted (The original recipe calls for 5-6 tablespoons of butter but my crust came out a little try with 6, so I'd probably add a half-to-a-whole tablespoon more. You can always start with the base amount and add more if you think it needs it.)

About a tsp of ground cloves

About a tsp of ground cinnamon

(I say "About" because I just shook the containers a few times over the dry ingredients until I thought it looked like enough. It's how I roll).

Mix together the graham cracker crumbs, sugar, cinnamon and cloves. The cinnamon you can probably be a little more liberal with, but watch out for the cloves. They'll add a nice depth to the crust and a lovely contrast to the lime filling, but you don't want to overpower the pie. After Ben had mixed the basics together I added the cinnamon and cloves because Ben tens to get a little overzealous when he shakes things and Key Lime Clove Pie is not what we're craving.

Mix in the melted butter. Press onto the bottom and up the sides of a well-greased 9-inch (23 cm) pie or tart pan. If you're feeling whimsical, add another sprinkling of cloves to the top of the crust.

Cover with plastic wrap and place in the refrigerator to chill while you make the filling.

Filling:

3 large egg yolks

One 14-oz can (390 g) can sweetened condensed mil k

1/2 c (120 mL) Key lime juice

2 tsp grated zest

Before you begin to mix anything together, I strongly suggest juicing (or, in my house, "squeezing") the limes. Luckily, I have my Handy Little Brother and he's got strong muscles from junior high football so I assigned him lime detail.

If you're interested in saving time and creating little mess, perhaps letting an 11-year-old handle this part isn't in your best interest. Half an hour later, the table was covered in sticky liquid citrus, half a roll of paper towels was gone, and the limin was finished.

Anyway, while he was juicing, I was mixing.

In the electric mixer bowl, using the whisk attachment, or in another bowl that you use with your hand mixer, as shown below (God, I miss my stand mixer. *sad face*), beat the egg yolks until they are pale and fluffy (2-3 minutes. Perhaps 3-4 with the hand mixer). If you're SOL on the electric mixer AND the hand mixer and you're just using a fork and your forearm, like I did in college, bless your heart.

When the yolks are fluffy, gradually add the condensed milk and beat until you have a light and fluffy mixture (3-5 minutes). Scrape down the sides of the bowl and beat in the lime juice and the lime zest.

You might also consider getting your zest together before you begin mixing things. I mixed the yolks and milk and then used the skeletons of those limes Ben was finished with to grate the zest directly into the mixture. Doing this also means I approximated the measurements. I eyeball. It's what I do.

Remove your crust from the refrigerator where it's supposed to have been chillin' and pour the filling into the crust and don't tell the other people in your house about it, otherwise you might end up with this:

Bake for about 10-15 minutes, or until the filling is set. I went for 15 minutes and it was still a little moist. Who knows why... maybe it was the altitude or perhaps I just didn't preheat the oven long enough. What did we say about me and exact measurements? Precisely. If you have a Handy Little Brother, dispatch him to gently shake and jiggle the pie while he checks the status of its doneness. Ben showed little restraint with the shaking and we were happy it was sufficiently immobile so we turned off the oven and called it done.

Remove the pie from the oven and place on a wire rack to cool. I don't have a wire rack, so I set it on top of one of the stove grates. This is my dad's FAVORITE pie so it's not like it was actually going to make it to the cool stage anyway. If you're a traditionalist, though, or just someone cooking for people who have the willpower to wait, cool the pie completely and then cover and refrigerate until serving time. It can be stored in the fridge for up to a couple of days.

Whipped cream:

1 c (240 mL) heavy whipping cream

2 tblsps (25 g) granulated white sugar

In a separate bowl (I used a metal bowl I stored in the freezer for about 15 minutes to make the whipping quicker), beat the whipping cream until soft peaks form. Add the sugar and beat until, once again, soft peaks form. This is another good step for Handy Little Brother to help with.

Give the beaters you used to your sous chef Benjamin and your dad in a vain attempt to keep them appeased until the pie is cooled and ready to serve. Either pipe or place mounds of whipped cream on top of the filling.

And if you're serving other people, for the love of Moses, keep the pie out of reach of this guy:

Makes 1 9-inch (23 cm) pie or tart.