The sage of Turkey

Last week's chicken operation commenced on the Saturday with bread (for bread crumbs) called 'Pain de Compagne' from Sainsbury's 'Taste the difference' range. 400g of the stuff. Bread which turned out to be rather undercooked and damp inside, not that this mattered greatly for the intended purpose. And the crusts, which were cooked, were taken for tea, with butter and cheese. Probably the first chicken since the Christmas fowl noticed at reference 1.

BH reminded me that bread bought from the 'baker' at Sainsbury's was often rather undercooked first thing in the morning. A supervisor had once told her that their bakers had trouble getting up at the proper time in the morning and that the first few bakes of the day were often a bit rushed. Thus accounting for the undercooking.

The sage of garden not looking very well at the moment, we turned to the sage of Turkey to provide the sage part of the stuffing operation, turning out half a box of dried sage from Turkey from the depths of one of the kitchen cupboards, sage which sported a best before date of some time in 2016. Sage which was almost smell free. So I used a couple of table spoons of the stuff and the stuffing, following our usual recipe, turned out very well. Helped along with a couple of eggs, a couple of tablespoons of virgin rape seed oil and the fat from quite a bit of bacon fat dripping down through.

So while it did not have quite the pzazz of the real thing, dried & bottled served well enough in an emergency. And I dare say the outdoor real thing won't have recovered from the winter before our next chicken, so perhaps I will get to use the other half of the bottle.

My duties done with assembly of the stuffing, BH moved in and attended to the rest of it while I took a spin around Jubilee Way. Home to find lunch near ready, with just about enough time for an apéritif before tucking in to lunch proper, which was taken with another bottle of the Muškat we had with the chicken noticed at reference 2.

We spent quality time during the meal trying to work out what the word at the bottom of the label, snapped above, was, trying all kinds of bizarre combinations. While now, it comes to me in a flash: 'Dolium', part of the name of the wine, as can be verified at reference 3. So a wine possibly named for the large Roman pot of that name, used for wine, oil, grain and so forth. Probably not named for the restaurant of that name at the southern tip of Croatia, a long way from the northern border with Slovenia, the home of the wine. On the other hand I have learned that the southern tip of Croatia has been split off from the rest of the coastal tail of the county up north in order to provide access to the sea to Bosnia & Herzgovina, when one might think it would have been tidier for B&H to have had the whole of this bit of coast. Presumably one of  the complicated results of the complicated history of the Balkans. Perhaps we can blame it all on Turkey? Ought they be told to issue a public and grovelling apology?

Did something under half of the chicken in this first sitting. Chicken which proved rather good, despite the pallidity of the skin, which I prefer rather browner.

I took the impromptu bread pudding for desert, while BH settled for juvenile rhubarb with pot custard.

Followed by a spot of Calvados, taken with a few pages of the book noticed at reference 4. For which purpose, I found the Times Atlas better than that produced by the Polish version of our Ordnance Survey. Their two and three page fold-out spreads have their points, but on this occasion the regular two pagers from the Times were more convenient for tracking the goings on of the mountain men across the Rockies. And less likely to get torn while resting on the knees, under the book in question.

While a little later on, I did a good job on getting my own back for having been badly beaten at Scrabble the day before. My turn to win, with my score being that on the right. And we came within spitting distance of the 600 barrier, which was surprising given all the circumstances.

On day two, the chicken did cold.

On day three, BH made the remnants into a fine chicken pie. Chicken and mushroom in a white sauce, mashed potato and top and baked in the oven long enough to crisp up the top. Excellent it was.

On day four, I made the soup. Boiled the carcase down. Stained, added 4oz of red lentils and made up to 3 pints. Added various other vegetables. Including potatoes for body, button mushrooms for decoration and 2.5 slices of dry cured streaky for flavour - there not being any actual chicken flesh left. And very good it was too.

On day five, the small amount of soup left had set. So added some water, some left over potatoes and it did for tea, taken with us at around 1800. But not usually with tea to drink, as it happens. One of the curious meal naming conventions of life here in Epsom. And that was the end of the chicken: good grub, and good value.

PS: I notice that reference 2 misleads. I had indeed tried wine from the same producer at Terroirs, but not this particular one, bought from their supplier at Guildford, the people at reference 3.

Reference 1: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2020/12/part-iii.html.

Reference 2: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2020/12/more-stuffing.html.

Reference 3: https://shop.lescaves.co.uk/lescaves-shopfront.

Reference 4: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2021/02/hunting.html.