When I went to primary school, my mother feared I would starve to death. She told me that I had only eaten Campbell's Tomato Soup for lunch since I was weaned from the bottle. Whose fault was that? The same mother who served it to me.
I can remember my lunchtime terror when the cafeteria monitor walked between the tables, until I learned from other kids to stuff "Popeye's" spinach into the milk carton.
Ok, now I eat everything and anything, but my comfort food is still tomato soup. I once read an interview with the celebrated chef, James Beard, who answered the question of his go-to comfort food without a blush: "Campbell's Tomato Soup with crushed saltines until the spoon stands up in the bowl."
My husband and I were invited to dinner at Anne and Martin Bernholz's spectacular home in Chapel Hill. Anne stood by her Aga Legacy 36 stove stirring a sauce while I ate roasted peppers harvested from her garden with anchovies between sips of late summer prosecco. We were in a serious woman-to-woman discussion about fine cuisine while the guys tromped down the terraced back garden looking for copperheads with Layla, the beagle. Boy stuff.
As Anne explained her complicated dish, she looked up at me, and said, "You know, I still use Campbell soups for some things. You can't beat it for Thanksgiving green beans, the recipe that's on the French's crispy fried onion box."
She went on to say this: "Our friend Bill Neal, whose food Craig Claiborne and others raved about and declared him the most talented young chef in the country when he opened his restaurant, Cook's Corner, in Chapel Hill, used to love judging women's groups dishes because he got to eat so much of the dish." Anne didn't need to remind me that women's auxiliary cookbooks are an ode to Campbell's soup.
So I jumped right in and corroborated, something I would never tell anyone else. "I also use Campbell's soup's for some things."
Guests rave about my roasted tomato soup with basil, my sweet and spicy tomato dill bisque, and my mushroom tarragon soup with a swirl of truffle oil. They ask for the recipe and I say, "So glad you like it."
True confession, here are the recipes. Sorry, no exact measurements available, that's the art in cooking. Recipes serves two soup bowls or four appetizer-size cups.
Roasted Tomato Soup with Fresh Basil
Cut 8 plum tomatoes lengthwise into four pieces.
Toss with olive oil, coarse salt and pepper, some garlic cloves.
Roast tomatoes and few garlic cloves in oven at 250 degrees for two hours on sheet of foil.
Rough chop the roasted tomatoes, along with any oil and juice.
Sauté 2 T finely minced onion in butter in your soup pot.
Add chopped fresh basil.
Sear with a bit of vermouth.
Add roasted tomatoes and a sprinkle of cayenne to the soup pot.
Add 1 can of Campbell's Tomato Soup plus ¾ can of water.
Add ½ cup half n' half or heavy cream. Heat until it almost reaches a boil.
Sprinkle each bowl with chopped fresh basil, three garlic croutons
& a sprinkle of Parmesan cheese.
Spicy Dill & Honey Tomato Bisque
Saute' ¼ cup grated onions in butter with fresh garlic;
Add Tablespoon chopped fresh dill;
Sear with white wine.
Add can diced tomatoes with juice plus about 2 Tablespoons honey.
Add one cup chicken or vegetable broth.
Simmer until slightly reduced.
Stir in a can Campbell's Tomato Soup.
Simmer a bit, then set aside to cool.
Use hand blender to cream soup in pot, along with 1 Tablespoon mayonnaise.
Taste and augment additional dill or honey to ensure the combination of spicy dill and sweet honey.
Serve hot or chilled with a swirl of yogurt or cream and top with a sprig of dill
Mushroom Tarragon Soup
Sauté' 2 cups chopped mushrooms, two varieties such as Bela and shiitake in
4 T melted butter with a little minced onion and fresh tarragon until caramelized.
Reserve a teaspoon of mushroom mix for topping each bowl.
Sear remaining cooked mushrooms with ¼ cup dry sherry.
Add one can of Campbell's Mushroom Soup, and one can of beef broth.
Simmer and stir with a ½ cup heavy cream.
Serve bowls topped with a swirl of truffle oil and reserved sprinkle of sautéed mushroom.
Julie's Thanksgiving stuffing (with Campbell's Soup)
While living in Tanzania, we became close friends with Julie McLaughlin and Rene Salgado. Julie is vegetarian so does not eat the turkey. The dish she looks forward to is her baked stuffing, and yes, Campbell's Soup plays a role. We make it every year and think of her; food being so linked to happy memories of good times and much loved friends.
Julie’s Stuffing Recipe
Diced Celery (use one head of celery)
Diced Onions (a full food processor's worth)
Sauté in lots of butter, salt & pepper to taste.
Toss with cubed toasted white bread (2 loaves, pop each slice into a toaster which gives a better texture than the oven)
Then add 1 cup chopped cranberries and 1 cup chopped –pecans (toasted in the oven for 5 minutes.
Add plenty of thyme or Herbs do Provence.
Lastly, mix all with 3 cans of Campbell's Cream of Mushroom soup until all bread is quite moist. May also add vegetarian or turkey broth for a bit more moisture.
Bake 350 for 30 minutes in foil-covered casserole, remove top and bake a bit more if you like your stuffing to be a bit crispy on top.
Note: I make this using 2 bags Pepperidge Farm pre-cut and toasted mix of white and wheat bread, one of those time-savers available in the U.S. that we never had overseas.
Two More Things – Chicken 'n Pastry and Fried Lace Cornbread
At this point in my story, the topic of chicken 'n pastry has nothing to do with Campbell's soup, but launches into the topic of comfort foods. Readers will have to wait until the conclusion to see how it all comes together. The topic of cornbread is critical because chicken 'n pastry can't be served without it. While unrelated to the thread of the blog about Campbell's soup, it is here because, at its core, this blog is about comfort food. In years to come, if a descendant reads this, she or he can produce both critical elements of the meal. So bear with me, please.
All eastern North Carolina cooks are expected to acquire the skills to produce a pot of chicken 'n pastry for reunions, funerals and big family gatherings, served along-side crispy thin, fried lace cornbread. The best chicken pastry chefs ladle it out, puffy sheets of pastry, swirled in a golden, silky broth, with generous portions of shredded chicken. Total comfort food. Heaven in a bowl.
It takes all day to cook chicken n' pastry. Most of the women in my family put the chicken in a pot of water, add salt and pepper, and boil until the chicken falls off the bone. I approach it a little differently.
Sauté' some leeks and garlic and fresh thyme with butter, sear with vermouth, then add a fat chicken with lots of salt and pepper, filling pot with water to cover chicken. With the leeks, thyme and vermouth, I thought I was doing something special, giving my version a favor boost over others in my family, however, it still fell short. I added a Tablespoon of "Better than Broth" (bouillon) for richer flavor, still not quite there.
Next steps are standard:
Cook chicken at a slow boil with lid slightly open to prevent boiling over.
Test chicken with a fork and when it pulls easily from the bone, then it is ready.
Remove the cooked chicken from the pot of broth, cool and shred.
Strain the broth and pour back into the pot.
About 1 hour before serving, bring the large pot of chicken broth to a boil.
Slowly add frozen pieces of pastry, about six at a time.
Let the broth come to a rolling boil, then add six more pieces.
Repeat method bringing broth to a boil each time before adding strips of pastry.
Follow same method until all pastry is added.
Finish off by simmering an additional ten minutes, stirring occasionally to prevent sticking.
You can make pastry strips (flat dumplings) from scratch using flour, salt and water, but there are reliable brands of traditional pastry, fresh frozen, available throughout the south.
After all the "pastry" strips has been added and cooked, you will have a bubbling pot of broth-fattened flat dumplings.
Finally stir in the shredded chicken and bring to a simmer. Cover pot, turn off burner, and let the mixture set for about one hour, allowing the pasta to absorb the broth and plump up. Reheat and serve.
Preparing Fried Lace Cornbread
I want to discuss the side dish for chicken 'n pastry because somewhere down the road my descendants may want to cook chicken 'n pastry and find without lace cornbread, they are missing the awesome crunchy balance to the buttery noodles, broth and chicken.
I finally got the hang of the lace cornbread, typically served with the chicken pastry. It's simple, yet it's not. Put about two cups white, mill-ground corn meal in a bowl with some onion powder and salt. Slowly add water and stir until it is the consistency of pancake batter. Let it set for a few minutes while you heat a cup of vegetable oil in a 12-inch cast iron frying pan. Enough oil to bubble around the cornbread and allow it to float when brown. If not enough oil, the cornmeal will stick to the pan. Oh what a mess. But not so much oil that it covers the corn meal patties.
Once the oil is hot, pour about ¼ cup corn meal batter into the pan to form a thin pancake; aim for a lacy effect around the edges, with lots of holes. (A twelve-inch skillet will hold about four patties.) Let it fry until crisp on the bottom. If it is too thick you won't get the lace effect. If it is too thin, your pan will be covered with bubbles of floating corn meal lost in a sea of oil. Don't try to turn the corn bread until it is brown on the bottom, but loosen with a spatula to prevent sticking, as you get ready to flip it. Lift each crispy piece of fried cornbread, drain on a paper towel and keep warm in the oven. As you cook, the remaining cornmeal batter may thicken, so add a bit of water and stir to maintain the slightly liquid consistency.
So what do you do with a pot of chicken 'n pastry and fried lace cornbread?
I serve the chicken 'n pastry in a pasta-size bowl as a main course with cornbread on the side. My children like the cornbread best when it is lathered with butter and honey. At church suppers and family reunions, chicken 'n pastry is typically served as a side dish on the same plate as fried chicken, collards, and baked sweet potato.
This dish is worth honing as a go-to response for aiding someone suffering poor health or spirits. Don't ask, "What can I do for you?" Instead, arrive at the door with a container of chicken 'n pastry and fried lace cornbread.
My friend, Lenore, cherished her father, Bob Meadows, a psychologist, who retired as director of special services programs at the Carteret Schools in 1995. Bob suffered from a long illness but never gave up on life.
In retirement, his garden was bountiful and beautiful, like his spirit. Bob had great wit and a love-everybody cheerful disposition until his final breath. He was famous for his pies.
The bonus of being friends with Lenore was spending time with her dad, Bob, and his wife, Carolyn, a concert pianist, who always played a "thank you" for me when I delivered Bob's favorite dish.
During periods that his health dipped, I rushed to cook his favorite, chicken 'n pastry and lace cornbread. For a while, I thought I was cheering him up, but realized later it was he who cheered me. That said, this dish is one you can serve to heal others, and in doing so heal yourself. Bob is gone, but when I cook this dish, I am embraced by his delight, and my memories of a remarkable man.
I enjoy cooking for dinner guests. I generally cook an elevated dish such as risotto mixed with fresh corn grilled with cilantro and lime, cut from the cob, and stirred into the finished risotto along with a little chopped bacon, some cream and parmesan. I serve it in pasta bowls topped with seared scallops and parsley. Of course, that too, sounds comforting, as are all home cooked meals, but there is something extra special about regional foods cooked by a parent, a grandparent, or other relative, that we enjoyed as a child
I decided to find out whether guests would respond with as many moans of pleasure to my humble dish, chicken 'n pastry with lace cornbread, an experiment of sorts, inspired by writing this blog. So, we invited over our neighbors Jim Rumfield and Anechy Padron; along with Erica and Jim Dunbar who live on a sailboat. Erica is a trained French chef, and major contributor to Cook's Illustrated Dessert Bible, under the name Erika Foss, so the stakes were high. Anechy is a skilled Cuban cook and a writer. The guys have a palette for fine cuisine.
We knew there would be easy conversation among our guests because they spent many years living on sailboats. Erica and Jim Dunbar, from Alaska, are currently docked at the Beaufort Yacht Basin where we keep our humble sailboat. But what we didn't realize is the stories that would blossom from the chicken 'n pastry dinner with fried lace cornbread and a blackberry, ginger and fresh mint salad.
There were appropriately satisfying oohs and aahs over the flavors and textures. The dish overwhelmed Jim Rumfield with childhood memories growing up on a coastal farm in Carteret County, between Beaufort and Swansboro. His mom had to feed hungry farm hands, and chicken 'n pastry with cornbread was a regular on the table, because she could feed a crowd with one chicken.
Jim talked about how hard he worked, driving a tractor at seven, and a great story about burying an old mule who dropped dead in the tobacco patch, dragging his tobacco skid a final time. The mule's owner also collapsed in grief and young Jim and his friend decided to bury the mule for the old man, which was no easy task. They dug what they thought was a very deep hole but once they rolled in the mule, the mule's leg's stuck above ground. I'll leave it to your imagination how the hard-working animal friend was put to rest.
Jim's stories started everyone else sharing that they, too, worked as young kids, contributing to their family's livelihood. Erica, at sixteen shoveled snow for a paper company in Northern Minnesota, and was paid more than any other laborer, snow being an obstacle to production. Erica was on the high school ski team and could do more leg presses than the boys on the football team. So, she was the clear choice for the job. She was pulled out of school so much it threatened her education, but the skills of hard work and pride in performance set her on a good life course.
Jim Dunbar had more snow stories, having grown up in Alaska, and described his work harvesting fish as a kid, and a long luscious story about a wounded moose in the center of the pond.
Anechy told fascinating stories about the hard life of Cubans under dictatorship. With monthly wages for professionals at $8 to $10, she began to produce puppets and put on shows for kid's birthday parties, bringing in more income.
Her brother built a raft and intended to paddle to Florida, but was caught and returned to Cuba. On his second attempt he was picked up by some yachting friends of Jim Rumfield, who helped him get to America. Anechy's brother was given asylum and eventually got visas for Anechy and their mom. Her brother stayed in contact with his rescuers and that's how Jim and Anechy met.
As I observed my satisfied guests push back their plates, with no hurry to leave the table, I realized something else about serving chicken 'n pastry. A lovely multi-course gourmet meal of small, perfect bites is a taste sensation, that leaves everyone talking about the food.
In contrast, a filling comfort food satisfies guests with a full belly and flavorful memories about childhood foods that made them feel loved and part of a family. When you eat a bowl of chicken 'n pastry, no one is eager to leave the table. It requires sitting and digesting, and of course the thing to do is to tell a story.
As Jim Rumfield later told me, "Stories are the glue that holds life together and your Southern comfort food dinner was perfect for the evening's theme of story-telling."
The Final Chicken 'n Pastry Truth Revealed
Over the years, I've made a passable dish of this southern comfort food. On the other hand, no matter how hard I tried, my chicken 'n pastry took a back seat to that of my sister-in-law, Ann West Bowen. A couple years ago, I was planning to visit Ann and my brother, Ron, in Linden, North Carolina.
Ann (left side of photo along with Debbie Denton and my sister, Krista Moore) said she would cook up a big pot of chicken pastry and we would invite everybody over. I arrived just before serving time. I looked at that pot of gold and pre-tasted a spoon-full. As always, I had to admit that mine did not come close to hers.
"Ann," I asked, "What am I doing wrong? What is your secret?"
Ann looked at me and grinned, "A stick of butter and a can of Campbell's Cream of Chicken soup."
Making a bit of chicken soup for a very ill friend of a friend, just as I read your Soup's On post. So to my usual I added the sauteed garlic (my thyme bush died in the snow, unhappily) and contemplated adding just a touch of ginger for a sinus clearing bowl of goodness. But will add the Campbell's because it has nurtured the ailing (in body and spirit) for so long! Thanks for sharing recipes--a sign of true love of your friends.
https://sarahmauryswanlovesbooks.com Nice post, Deborah. Your recipes appear to be delicious. I'll try some of them out. Thanks for sharing. Sarah Maury Swan
Wonderful, joyful, and very comforting blog. Just what the doctor ordered!
Thank you for sharing these great recipes, secrets, and lovely stories, Deborah. MWAH!!!❣️
Your Mom made the most perfect chicken pastry I’ve ever had one time when we went to visit her and Uncle Edsel! Still have wonderful memories of that meal and a great visit. Ciao, Dee