Crusty, Smoky Story

I had big plans for that smoky pastured chicken - it may have been expensive initially but I was going to reduce the cost/meal ratio dramatically by using it all up.

After our initial meal - which was ambrosial, by the way - I decided to pick the meat off the carcass for another go at chicken pot pie. I was pretty sure that smoky flavor would be transformative to that lowly dish. I was correct.

I made two pot pies out of the leftover chicken, one for us and one for my neighbors, who are experiencing a very busy time right now. If I had wanted to be just slightly less generous to the neighbors, I could have squeezed three pot pies out of the remainder of the chicken and no one would have felt cheated. I added the usual veggies - sautéed pearl onions, garlic, diced carrots, peas (next time, I'm going for mushrooms, too) - sauced it as usual, and topped with the scraps left over from the show-off crust on the neighbors' pie.

I don't cook with salt so it needed a sprinkle at the table but, otherwise, it was splendid. The smokiness made everything else taste new and unexpected, almost exotic, if one can say that about so pedestrian a dish. Scheherazade might have served this to Shahryar as she spun her tales for him, and he'd have spared her for her pot pie alone.