Mincemeat Pies
I was having lunch with my dad today and over some sashimi he reminded me that I shouldn’t wish this chapter of my life away, even though it, uh, kind of sucks.
“There are some nice parts,” he said. “You know, like you have all your stuff out of storage. You get to hang out with me a lot, which is very cool. You’re making new friends who are all your own, having new experiences.” He is a person who life has kicked in the teeth more than a few times, and yet he’s unrelentingly upbeat, a fervent believer that his best day has not yet happened.
On the drive home, I was thinking about this and decided to make a more comprehensive list. So far, I have:
Eating mushrooms and olives and shellfish whenever the hell I want
Sleeping in starfish position if desired
Making friends who have normal jobs and work normal-ish schedules
Watching fanciful police procedurals without having to justify myself to anyone*
I am no longer my dogs’ second-favorite person. They have to like me best because there’s no one else.
Pursuant to item three on my list, I have made the acquaintance of a fellow over-educated Southern Jew who likes to shout. Amanda is married to a British person and at some point when we were both very under the influence she said she was struggling to locate mincemeat to make a birthday pie for said husband. “Zabar’s is out! Cream cheese and mincemeat!”
Look, It’s ugly. It’s fine. It’s so good.
I declared I would make it and give her half. Mistakes were made, hands were waved. It was all extremely Semitic.
So right, yeah, the next day, I went to a cookbook store and found Nigella Christmas., a volume previously unknown to me, a Nigella enthusiast. Nigella is, herself, of Jewish extraction, but English Christmas (as she notes in the preface) is almost entirely secular.
The guy behind the counter leaned toward me and said, “do you like mincemeat?” in a tone that suggested he was about to tell me one of the universe’s most closely guarded secrets.** To be perfectly honest, I had no idea what mincemeat was at this juncture; I assumed meat was somehow involved.
“Yes, of course.”
“This is, beyond a doubt, the best mincemeat I have ever had. It has cranberries. It is…it’s transcendent.”
Hand for scale. This is, by far, the prettiest one, I regret to say.
I mean, of course I bought the book., though I assumed it was some kind of pork-fruit dish that would be very tasty I also bought a food-themed tarot deck, a book about truffle dogs***, and and something about MFK Fisher to which I gave very little thought.
Mincemeat, I was surprised to learn, is somehow vegan. I got a little weird making it, adding a few things here and there, but adhered relatively closely to Nigella’s method. I’m glad I tried one before feeding a tiny mince pie to my six-year-old nephew because JESUS CHRIST, I WAS NOT FIT TO DRIVE. These are very stout. Despite being twice-cooked, they’re a food for adults. I’m glad I made them as individual pies; they’re cuter, for one, and they’re also a little easier to control in terms of ABV this way. Mine are kind of ugly because I didn’t have the right kind of cookie cutter, but they’re a total showstopper even in this state.
I don’t have much to compare it to, but I can say it’s the best mincemeat I’ve ever had. I texted Amanda to let her know I had made it and would bring some over but she had completely forgotten this conversation, so I made twelve instead of six. I have subsequently eaten eight, so it’s all for the best.
*I love any and all USA channel dramas and I will not apologize
** Cateye liner on the first try and the trick to not breaking your teeth while rollerskating backward being the two I was hoping for
***I have two rescue dogs, both Lagotto Romagnolo. They’re bred to hunt truffles, but if you ever meet them, you’ll see why each flunked out of truffle school. One can’t act right and one won’t act right and I’ll leave it to you to tell me which is which
Mincemeat Pie
adapted from Nigella Christmas
yields 12 tiny pies
Ingredients:
1/4 cup ruby port (cheap is FINE)
1/2 cup packed dark brown sugar (don’t be worried if you don’t have it or it isn’t at your grocery store; light brown is fine too)
3 cups fresh cranberries (frozen also fine, just not dehydrated)
1/2 tablespoon ground ginger
1 teaspoon ground cloves
1/2 cup dried currants
1/2 cup raisins
1/4 cup dried cranberries
zest + juice of a satsuma
a scant 1/4 cup brandy
dash of almond extract
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 tablespoons of red wine syrup (or honey, but I had red wine syrup on hand so why not?)
1 recipe pie crust (recipe to follow)
1 egg, beaten
To do:
A day or two before you aim to make the mincemeat, put the cranberries and port in a mason jar to steep.
Preheat the oven to 425F/220C. Make your pie crust and put it in the fridge. Grease each segment of a muffin tin with butter or vegetable oil.
Put a large saucepan on the stove over a low heat. Dump in the steeped cranberries and the brown sugar. Bring to a simmer, then add the cinnamon, ginger, and cloves. When fragrant (this is maybe fifteen seconds), put in the currants, raisins, dried cranberries, and the proceeds of the satsuma. Bring this to a simmer and let that hang out for about 20 minutes. Mash everything around; you can’t hurt it.
In the meantime, roll out half the dough very, very thinly, somewhere between an 1/8 and a 1/16th of an inch. Use a biscuit cutter (or a pint mason jar and paring knife) to make discs of dough, and then make a little mini pie crust in each part of the muffin tin. I’m not explaining this well, but you know what I mean. Reserve the scraps, then roll out the dough again and make some cute toppers with whatever small cookie cutter you have. Nigella had a star, which looked great. My closest approximation was a snowflake which was….well, you can see it. It’s fine, it’s delicious. Make it a unicorn for all I care.
Take the cranberry mixture off the heat and stir in the brandy, almond extract, vanilla extract, and wine syrup/honey. Beat it like it owes you money. It’ll be a paste. Spoon enough to fill each muffin tin up, then top with a star/snowflake/narwhal. Bake for about ten minutes, then pull it out and brush the beaten egg on top. Put it back in the oven for ten more minutes.
Take your pies out of the oven, then let them mostly cool before trying to remove them from the muffin tin. My critical error was moving too quickly; don’t be a fool.
Pie Crust
Adapted from a recipe from a newsletter I received in 2008; it is the best and I will accept no disagreement on this part unless you’re my great-grandmother and straight up make yours with lard
Yields two pie crusts
Ingredients:
2 cups (280g) all purpose flour
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons sugar (you can skip this if making a savory pie, which we are not)
2 sticks unsalted butter 225g, cubed and frozen
1/2 cup (115ml) full-fat sour cream
1/4 cup ice water (just in case, you might not need it)
To Do:
Whisk together the flour, salt, and sugar.* With clean hands or a pastry blender or a stand mixer with a paddle attachment, work in the butter until you get a coarse meal texture. Add the sour cream and mix until it forms a ball. If it isn’t working out, just add a tablespoon of ice water at a time until it does. You might not need any at all!
Divide into two equal parts and wrap each in Saran wrap. Let it chill for a half hour to an hour (it’ll keep for a few days if you want to do this ahead). When you’re ready, take it out of the fridge and roll it out on a very floured surface with a very floured rolling pin.
* I had made bourbon butter in my mixer that same day, so I didn’t wash the bowl, then did all this in the Kitchenaid and skipped the sugar. It is, um, very, very good.