Chicken Pie

Chicken Pie

My mind is taking a break from Christmas celebrations and has turned to another vernal delight, the picnic. Every year I promise myself a summer of wonderful picnics; some years I do satisfy my al fresco appetite, other years maybe the weather gets in the way or sand just blows into the delicate sandwich of my organization.

I have always loved picnics; for years, sitting down under a tree with a lunch of cheese and chutney or sandwiches from a brown paper bag, washed down with a swig of warm Tizer after a morning spent with my Mum and Dad searching for mushrooms, berries or chestnuts, was as good as life could get.

I was twelve when my idea of picnics changed. I’d been invited to a friend’s birthday party and his mother and father drove four of us to one of those pebbly beaches on England’s south coast. There, on paper plates and on a tablecloth, were served delights I had never dreamed of eating outdoors, slices of ham, cold chicken, pork pies, potato salad, lettuce and tomatoes, bread rolls, individual trifles and birthday cake. We ate with knives, forks and spoons and even drank the lemonade from paper cups; this was sophisticated picnicking.

These days I don’t turn my back on sandwiches at a picnic but rather serve them as a “sandwich factory”, offering lengths of baguette or ciabatta, squares of focaccia or crusty rolls which the diners can fill from the cornucopia of the chilly bin. There will be cold meats and salami or if I am particularly well prepared maybe a homemade paté or terrine or perhaps a bowl of smoked fish or prawns potted in clarified butter with lemon and just a hint of gin. If time is short, a jar of black olive tapenade is easy and quick to prepare. Then there will be a cheese or two, crisp lettuce or spicy rocket, crunchy radishes and celery, perhaps marinated mushrooms, always cherry tomatoes, olives and some fresh herbs like tarragon, coriander, parsley or basil. To complete a sandwich the fourth earl would have been proud to put his name to, there will be aioli, good vinaigrette and a selection of pickles, chutneys and other tracklements. Of course, all this may be served on plates and eaten with knives and forks if you want to be more formal.

At other times, when I prefer not to bother with knives and forks, my mind turns to spears of late asparagus or sticks of carrot, cucumber and celery to be dipped into a minty, garlicky Greek tsatsiki or unctuous homemade mayonnaise. The centrepiece however would be a pie. I like to make a statement with one big one, rather than individual ones. Try this one for pies…

Chicken PieThe Pick of Picnic Pies

2 x 400g blocks of flaky puff pastry

FILLING:

  • 500g frozen spinach portions (thawed and squeezed as dry as possible)
  • 500g boneless skinless chicken breast or thigh (cut into 2cm pieces)
  • 300g sausage meat
  • 1 bunch spring onions (chopped)
  • 1 cup chopped parsley
  • 8 plump dried apricots (chopped)
  • 1 tsp lemon zest
  • ¼ tsp freshly grated nutmeg
  • 1 egg beaten
  • Salt and freshly ground black pepper

With your hands, mix well all the ingredients of the filling and set aside in the fridge.

Grease the sides and bottom of a 23cm round, loose-base cake tin. Roll out one pack of the pastry and line the tin ensuring the pastry goes into the corners and overlaps the edge.

Fill the case with the chicken mix, pack down and smooth the top. Moisten the edges of the pastry with water.

Roll out the second pack of pastry for the top. Lay it over, trim the edge and pinch or fork the edges to seal. Use some of the offcuts to make leaves to decorate the pie, saving any leftover pastry for other dishes. Leave in fridge then heat the oven to 200˚C, with a baking sheet on the middle rack.

Brush the pie with egg and place the tin on the baking sheet in the oven to cook for 1 – 1¼ hours until golden. Cool in the tin for 40 minutes then remove and allow to cool completely. Serve cold (it just doesn’t work as a hot pie).

Serves 6 – 8

Desserts, I leave to you as I have a crowd of teddy bears waiting who want me to cater for something or other and must go, but follow the example of Ratty and Mole and make a meal of picnics this summer.