Chicken and Dumplings
Mom and Elisabeth (photographed by me when Mom was just back from Newfoundland in the nursing unit at Carolina Meadows). This photograph appeared along with an essay by my sister in Maya Stein’s book Grief Becomes You.
Top: Mom reading to Luca (perhaps in New Orleans?). Bottom: We looked at a lot of photos when Mom was dying. Here she and Luca are posing with the above photo.
Left: Mom feeds my sister, supervised by Shiner, the cat, on the Jenny Lind bed (which later became my childhood bed). Right: Mom with a VERY NEW Baby Luca at our house in Wimberley.
Mom reclines at Kettle’s Yard in Cambridge, England. The lady could relax!
We were able to get Mom home among her pretty things to die. Here she is napping with Foxtrot, the loaner cat.
Mom used to spend a lot of time in bed, at first very voluntarily (she was a pro napper!), and, then, as a necessity. I’m actually writing this from bed – the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. During my childhood, it was perfectly normal for Mom to just disappear for a few hours on the weekend to rest. We were expected to be quiet and entertain ourselves. Once when I was maybe 7 or 8 (old enough to know better) I was incredibly bored one afternoon when Mom was taking one of her breaks. I crawled in her room and watched her sleep. [Creeper!] Mom liked to sew, so there was always a project closeby. I remember thinking, “I wonder if I poked Mom with a pin if she would wake up?”. Once that thought entered my brain, I couldn’t NOT do it. So, the experiment commenced. And, guess what? She did wake up! And she was pissed!!!
Mom was an excellent recliner. Even when on a piece of furniture designed specifically for sitting, she would drape herself. On road trips, her feet were always on the dash. (See, Chris! It’s not just me!) Mom was just damn good at what I like to call the “pleasure upgrade”. I’m not sure if Mom taking to bed was exactly encouraged by Dad (who is not a napper) or accepted, but by the time I rolled around he seemed good with it. In fact, I once caught him whispering “cultivate repose” to my 2 year old daughter. Now this could just be an attempt to shut up a spazzy kid but I like to think he was instilling some self-care tips. (Let’s be real, he was shutting her up.)
It did seem to work, though, because my daughter ended up spending a lot of chill time in bed with my Mom over the years. One morning while visiting my parents in New Orleans we woke up and Luca was, alarmingly, not in our room. It turns out that baby girl had bravely walked down the stairs and through a spooky, dark old Creole house to find her way to Grandmomma’s bed. She liked it that much. When we would spend time together as a family on the QM2, Mom could usually be found in bed reading or gazing out the window at the sea. Our girls would beg us, “Can we go see Grandmomma?” and we would comply, insisting that they call us when they got there safely. When we stopped by to fetch them, they would inevitably be in bed making videos with Mom or lying on the floor painting next to Mom or in some other state of creative coziness.
When talking with Dad about Mom’s last summer in England, it sounds as if she was in bed nonstop, but not for fun. Mom had her gallbladder removed just before the trip and got a nasty GI infection while in the hospital. The theory was that her exhaustion and sickness were fallout from that. In hindsight, cancer was eating at her heart. Dad tells me she made the most of this confinement by watching every episode of Escape to the Country (one of my faves!). When we finally got Mom home to Chapel Hill, she ended out her days in bed, surrounded by her people and things, in matching classy pajamas. Just as she wanted it.
So, for today’s recipe I wanted something that felt like a warm bed, a classic comfort food recipe: Chicken and Dumplings! Our friend, Kristy Lee, brought over a delicious batch when Mom’s health was declining. It tasted like home.
CHICKEN AND DUMPLINGS
3 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons shortening
1 cup ice water
1 (4 pound) whole chicken, cut into 8 pieces
1 tablespoon seasoning salt, or to taste
3 1/2 quarts water
1/2 small onion, chopped
2 stalks celery, chopped
1/4 cup margarine (Sarah’s note: Surely not?! I’d sub butter and I bet Mom would too.)
salt and pepper to taste
1 teaspoon poultry seasoning
In a large bowl, sift flour, baking soda and salt. Cut in shortening until mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Stir in water until mixture forms a ball. Divide dough in half and shape into balls. Wrap in plastic and refrigerate for 2 hours or overnight.
Remove the skin from the breast, thigh and back of the chicken, but leave it on the legs and wings. Season chicken with seasoning salt, and place in a large stock pot. Pour in water. Add onion, celery and margarine. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to simmer. Cook for about 1 1/2 hours, until chicken falls off the bone.
On a lightly floured surface, roll one ball of dough to about 1/8 inch thick. Cut into 2 inch squares. Drop into simmering broth, and let cook for about 2 minutes. Stir gently to prevent sticking; add more water if needed. Season broth while dumplings are cooking with salt, pepper and poultry seasoning. Simmer for about 15 minutes, or until dumplings are cooked through.
Note:
This recipe calls for only 1 ball of dough, but for those that like a lot of dumplings, use both balls. This dough can also be used for cobblers. Freeze the other half of the dough if you don't use it.
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