Chicken Cottage Pie

***Warning no chicken soup was made or consumed in the creation of this story or recipe***

I listened to this episode of Lindsay Cameron Wilson’s podcast, The Food Podcast on my walk recently. It’s one of my favourites so you’ll have heard me refer to it before. In the episode Lindsay takes us behind the creation of her podcast and storytelling. One of her centrepoints was the history in her family and that of others of chicken soup. While the podcast was a brilliant listen for those interested in podcasting, writing and sharing stories the chicken soup thing is the one that swirled in my mind as I walked that day, a brain worm if you will. For Lindsay’s family and Fanny Singer, her guest, chicken soup presented mixed feelings and memories of everything always smelling of broth and the constant of its aroma in her recollections. It got me to thinking about my own memories of chicken soup.

I’d never tasted chicken soup until perhaps my early teens. I’ve mentioned before my mother’s disdain for cooking, thus her small repertoire. Perhaps she brought to adult hood the recipes she remembered from her own childhood, perhaps my grandmothers didn’t’ make chicken soup for her. As a girl, at my friend’s house one weekend, offered lunch, I looked in the pot curiously at the chicken and vegetable soup offered. The pool of golden broth jewelled with finely grated colourful vegetables, noodles and tender poached chicken looked and smelled enticing eliciting a dutiful rumble from my stomach. Later that day I promptly reported back to Mum asking if she could make some, instead of our usual scotch broth or pea and ham. I’m not sure if she sought advice from my friend’s mum Joan or she winged it but it was just as lovely and joined it’s soup cousins on high winter rotation. It also began a love affair with chicken soup and indeed all soup for me.

When you fall down the rabbit hole of chicken soup it’s like a culture all it’s own. It’s a dish that in each cuisine in which it dwells tells a story of that cuisine’s characteristics and culture. The Thai’s combine theirs with noodles and spices, the Greeks their distinctive lemon threaded Avgolemono, the Italians Brodo, the Chinese the inspired union of chicken with Corn and of course the iconic mother of all chicken soups Jewish Penicillin, the answer to all that ails. One that’s perhaps not tied to a particular country of origin but rather of the culture of the jewish faith for whom all tradition revolves around food.

One commonality weaves it’s way through all chicken soup culture is the comfort it brings. That gentle golden flavour of a broth slowly simmered with the flavours of whichever vegetables, seasonings and herbs chosen to build the layers is unique in cooking in it’s universal ability to provide a sense of home, comfort and nourishment.

What, I hear you ask, does any of this have to do with Cottage Pie? Well my friends as much as I love soup I also live in a house full of men, though two are absent at the moment, and soup sometimes isn’t enough. One, in particular, calls soup flavoured hot water *insert eye roll* and the other two while soup lovers are quite partial to another traditional comfort food, cottage pie and there my friends is the intersection of chicken soup and cottage pie. All the flavours of salty chicken broth finely diced veg and chicken topped with a blanket of mash baked in the oven until the sauce ozoes and bubbles at the edges is the perfect marriage of the comfort and flavours of chicken soup with the heartiness of pie.

Ingredients:

1 kg potatoes cooked and made into mash. Just like you normally would for dinner with

loads of butter and cream.

500 gm Chicken Mince

2 Tb Extra Virgin Olive Oil

1 leek, white part only chopped

1 carrot diced

½ stick of celery finely diced

1 corn cob, kernels sliced from cob

1 garlic clove crushed

2 Tb chopped flat leaf parsley

3 sprigs fresh thyme leaves stripped from stalks

40 gm butter

3 Tb plain flour

625 ml of chicken stock. Fresh, made from stock cubes, premade, however you like it

½ c frozen peas

1 tsp salt flakes and fresh cracked black pepper

2 Tb almond flakes

15 gm butter extra melted.

Method:

Make mash and set aside.

In a large heavy based pan, cast iron if you have it, warm 1 Tb of the olive oil over a med-high heat. Cook the mince both sides then breaking up until almost cooked through. Remove from pan to a bowl and keep warm.

Reduce heat to low, adding the second tablespoon of oil. Add the Leek, carrot and celery to pan and cook gently on low for 5 mins, until leek and celery translucent. Stir regularly to prevent any browning. Pop the corn kernels in and stir through leaving to cook for another five minutes. Add garlic and herbs and cook briefly until fragrant. Stir butter through veg until melted and completely combine. Increase heat to medium and sprinkle over flour. Stir thoroughly again and cook flour off like you would for a white sauce, 3’ish minutes. Reduce heat to low again and slowly drizzle in stock stirring constantly to combine well and prevent any lumps. Allow to simmer for 15 minutes so the sauce reduces a little and thickens. Stir through the frozen peas and cook for a further 3 minutes. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Preheat oven to 180c. In a suitably sized ovenproof dish spread the chicken and veg mixture evenly. Cover the top in the spoonfuls of mashed potato, spinkle over almonds and drizzle the whole top with the extra melted butter.

Bake for 35-40 minutes until the potato peaks and almonds are crispy and sauce is bubbly and oozy on the edges.