The stormy March is come at last,
With wind, and cloud, and changing skies,
I hear the rushing of the blast,
That through the snowy valley flies.Ah, passing few are they who speak,
Wild stormy month! in praise of thee…
March, most variable of months, how you surprise and startle us.
Your sly sibling, February, with its more mild temperament and sunny skies, tricks us into thinking spring is just ahead. But then you roar in, all bluster and snow, squalling like a spoiled child. You must, and you will, have our attention now please.
You’d think we would know better. After all, the seasons, as changeable as they are, still follow a well-worn path. Those of us who live in a four-season climate know the routine: January drags, with its dark days and post holiday stupor, leaving us cranky and tired. Then February brightens and somehow manages a spell of almost balmy weather. The very brave amongst us break out our light coats, start thinking about packing away our boots, leaf through seed catalogues dreamily.
And then, March.
Yet, though thy winds are loud and bleak,
Thou art a welcome month to me.For thou, to northern lands, again
The glad and glorious sun dost bring,
And thou hast joined the gentle train
And wear’st the gentle name of Spring.
I must admit a sneaking admiration for this most obstinate of months. It’s a reminder that we’re not quite in complete control yet. Mother Nature is still pulling the levers, chuckling just a bit as we skip and curse on the icy sidewalks.
While the false warmth of February beguiles, March is true to its nature. The days are assuredly longer, the buds are breaking out on the forsythia and there - look - snowdrops and crocuses come out to say hello.
It may seem like a long slog to April. But I assure you, it’s a straight line from here to there. As William Cullen Bryant says in his beautiful poem, March:
But in thy sternest frown abides
A look of kindly promise yet.Thou bring’st the hope of those calm skies,
And that soft time of sunny showers,
When the wide bloom, on earth that lies,
Seems of a brighter world than ours.March, William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878)
(To read the full poem, click here).
Chicken and mushroom pot pie
BBC Good Food magazine
serves 4-6
I’ve been in the UK for the past week and if there is one thing that this country loves, it’s traditional weekly Sunday roast. Perhaps even more so, it’s the ubiquitous pie. And by pie, of course, I don’t mean apple or cherry. The most classic of British meat pies are those made with steak and ale, encased in flaky golden-hued crusts, and nowadays there’s pies for every taste, including vegan.
The one I loved best was a fabulous chicken and mushroom pie, from Pieminister in Bath. Based in Bristol, Pieminister has expanded its footprint but still focuses on the very best of ingredients, sustainably sourced. Pieminister is a BCorp and is focused on creating delicious food that’s good for you and good for the planet too.
In honour of Pie Week being celebrated this week at Pieminister, I share this delicious treat. When you can’t come to England directly and try the real deal, this recipe, from Good Food magazine, is the next best thing. When March shakes its lion head and roars, this is the ideal antidote to a snowy, cold day, with a promise of spring ahead.
Ingredients
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
8 skinless boneless chicken thighs
8 slices smoked bacon, cut into large pieces
1 onion, halved and sliced
½ pound (250 grams) white mushrooms, cleaned and sliced
Handful of thyme sprigs
2 tablespoons flour
1¾ cups chicken stock
¾ cup milk
1 pound pack fresh puff pastry, or frozen and defrosted
1 egg, beaten
Heat the oven to 350F.
Heat the oil in a large, non-stick frying pan. Season the chicken thighs and fry for 5-8 minutes until golden brown, turning occasionally. You may need to do this in two batches, depending on the size of your pan.
Put the chicken onto a plate and put the bacon pieces into the pan. Sauté for 5 minutes until crisp. Add the onion, mushrooms and thyme sprigs, then sauté on high heat for another 3 minutes until the onions start to colour. Add the flour to the pan and cook, stirring, for 1 minute.
With the pan off the heat, gradually stir or whisk in the chicken stock, followed by the milk, then add the chicken back to the pan.
Bring to a boil, then simmer for 30 minutes. Spoon the filling into a large pie or baking dish and leave to cool.
On a floured surface, roll the pastry to the thickness of ¼ inch. Cut a long strip as wide as the rim of the pie dish and, using a little of the beaten egg, fix to the edge of the pie dish. Brush with beaten egg, then lift the rest of the pastry over the pie, using the rolling pin to help. Gently press the edges with your fingers and trim with a sharp knife.
Brush lightly with egg to glaze, then bake for 30 minutes or until the pastry is risen and dark golden brown.
This was awesome…simple and delicious. Ian is still taking about it.