Comfort Food

I’ve been creating some “book merch.” Bookmarks are pretty standard, but since food, especially sustenance in hard times, is important in That Pinson Girl, I thought an appropriate gift to readers might be an heirloom recipe or two, passed down and changed and faded now almost to the point of disappearing. So I created a couple of cards using old family recipes.

I’m saving those recipes for book events, but I want to share another one with you.

Leona, the main character in That Pinson Girl, is already a cook at seventeen. When someone needs food (or comfort), she’s likely to go outside, chase down a chicken, wring its neck, trim and clean it, and pop it into a pot of water with a scoop of lard or even better, hand-churned butter, plenty of salt, and a dried red pepper or two for good measure. The chicken simmering on the stove would have filled the Pinson house with an aroma I too equate with home and comfort. That kind of food was simple, nourishing, even life-giving.

When I was quite little, my grandmother kept chickens. (There is proof of this: photos of me toddling around the bare yard, chasing chickens.) At least some of those chickens suffered the same fate as Leona’s, but I never witnessed that brutal act. My grandmother took that simple stewed chicken a step further: she made “chicken and dumplings.” It’s a common dish in the South, but instead of making pillows of dough that simmered in chicken stock, she rolled the dough out thin and cut it into one- by two-inch strips. Instead of being firm and “heavy” in texture, her dumplings were light and tender and so delicious.

I remember asking my mother for the recipe when my children were small. I wanted to make chicken and dumplings for them, too. “I’ll have to ask her,” my mother said. The recipe wasn’t written down until Mother wrote it out as my grandmother dictated it to her.

At least one of my sons likes to make chicken and dumplings, but I have mostly given it up. It isn’t exactly healthy. It’s time-consuming and tricky: it’s easy to over-work the dough or roll it out too thick or too thin or cook the dumplings too little or too much. But the recipe is a treasure.

Here it is. The notes are typical of my grandmother. The tone is a bit like she might have been talking to ten-year-old me, hovering in her kitchen, learning to cook. (Which was hard; if I didn’t get a task right the first time, she would usually take over and finish it herself!)

Do let me know if you try it. It’s a perfect supper on a cold night.

My Grandmother’s Chicken and Dumplings

As transcribed by my mother many years ago

Dumplings:

3 cups all-purpose flour

1 tsp. salt

1 rounded Tbs. Crisco per cup flour

3/4 cup ice water

To make the dumplings:

In a 2-quart mixing bowl—I use a slant-sided bowl, meaning wider at top than bottom—put flour in bowl. Make deep well in center, add salt and Crisco. Gradually work in water small amount at the time until all is used. Work until dough is real stiff (you will have some flour left in bowl—just resift for further use). Divide dough in balls. Put on well-floured board or cloth and roll real thin. Cut into 1x2 inch strips. Keep rolling pin and board well-floured while handling so they won’t stick together.

Have one large chicken cooked fork tender and well-seasoned with salt and pepper. I use a rounded Tbs. Crisco or some butter or margarine to give it a better flavor. When your chicken gets tender, be sure it is well-covered with liquid. Start with a layer of dumplings over the chicken. Leave a little space between the dumplings so liquid can boil up between and over them well before adding another layer. Cover and boil gently, adding one layer at a time. (Be sure each layer is firm or done before adding another layer; this keeps them from sticking together.) After you put your last layer in, boil gently for 10 minutes until they test done. They will be firm when done. Keep heat low to prevent scorching.

My grandmother’s note, added in her own handwriting at the bottom of the recipe:

Take a fork and gently separate dumplings when you remove from heat so liquid can flow between. I keep a little boiling water handy while putting my dumplings in so if my liquid gets too low, I can add a little water. If your liquid is well seasoned it [adding water] will not keep them from being good. For [your] Mother I make mine hot with red pepper.

My notes:

It’s easy to over-work the dough, so be careful. The dumplings are supposed to be light, not chewy; they won’t have a light texture if you work too much flour into them or handle them too much. To simplify the directions a bit: I remove the chicken from the pot (chicken breasts work just as well, but use bone-in for more flavor) and bring the liquid back to a gentle simmer. Drop the dumplings in a few at a time, letting the liquid return to simmer before you add more. Don’t crowd them. They may not need to cook ten minutes; just check them for doneness.

You can serve the chicken pieces with dumplings on the side, or you can bone the chicken and layer dumplings and chicken in a casserole.

Disclaimer: I’m sure this recipe originated somewhere, but I can’t possibly determine where. It was an oral tradition in my family when I was a little girl.