After

Folksinger/storyteller Scott Alarik used to tell a story about Ingemar Ingebretson, an old Norwegian farmer on his deathbed, wanting one last taste of his wife's famous beef pasties. He asks his friend Ole to go bring him one, as he's fading fast. After a long wait, Ole returns. I'm sorry, Ingemar Ingrebretson, he says. Hilda says those pasties, they're for after the funeral.

So these pasties aren't for after anything, except maybe Holiday Market, and they aren't beef either, but they're pretty darn good to come home to after a long day selling pottery.

I got the original recipe from the Glasilo, a Slovenian-American newspaper, and proceeded to pervert it horribly to my own ends. This is what I make:

Frank's Oregon Pasties

Crust
1 cup shortening (original calls for lard. I've used margarine in the past, these days it's Crisco plus whatever fat is in the fridge. In this case, leftover turkey schmaltz from Thanksgiving, bacon grease, and enough butter-flavored Crisco to make a cup.)
1 cup boiling water
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup whole wheat flour
1 tsp salt

Pour the hot water over the fat and mix with an electric mixer until it's thick and creamy, emulsified. Stir in flours and salt to make a dough. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate a couple of hours, or overnight.

Filling
This can be highly variable. Original includes turnip or rutabaga, neither of which are my thing. I sometimes add thawed frozen peas, if I have them, or even crack an egg into each. This time out:
5 potatoes
3 carrots
1 head of broccoli
1/3 medium onion
1 lb. ground turkey
2 rounded teaspoons seasoned salt
1/2 tsp. black pepper

Dice the vegetables, including peeling and dicing broccoli stems. Combine in a large bowl with salt and pepper, then mix in ground turkey.
Divide crust into 6 to 8 parts, and roll each into a rough oblong on a floured board or counter. Settle half of the crust into a small bowl, and scoop in a cup to cup-and-a-half of filling. Fold over remaining crust and crimp edges. Transfer to a greased or foil-lined baking sheet. Repeat until all are filled.

Bake at 400° F. for one hour. Cool slightly before serving. Traditionally, these are served with a gravy, I guess, though I like them plain. Denise puts ketchup on hers. Barbarian...

It's Mee!

A familiar and unexpected face in by booth late Sunday afternoon. Before online shipping services, I used to spend a lot of time in line at the River Road Post Office, shipping pottery orders and Christmas presents. Got to be on a first-name basis with the counter clerks, Henry and Val and Cheryl and Mee. Even gave them each a painted mug from my seconds stash, one year. All gone, now, though I ran into Mee once afterward, working the West Eugene branch.

So when a vaguely familiar Asian woman came into the booth, my brain was going, Why do I know that face? It was Mee, down from Portland, there to pick out a piece from me. She got the sunflower dinner pasta bowl, and a hug.