The OG sustenance

HOW TO MAKE ACADIAN CLASSICS THAT SUSTAINED EARLIEST SETTLERS

‘I’ve often joked about the fact that Acadian cuisine is very homey and occasionally, a little homely,” Simon Thibault says. Essential dishes such as râpure (rappie pie) — a casserole made with potatoes, meat, onions and stock — are comforting and humble.

From salting green onions to create a fresh and bright condiment that could be relied on during harsh winters, to slaughtering pigs each fall for boudin (blood sausage), these are time-honoured techniques that arose out of necessity, Thibault writes, and represent “a larder that is small but mighty.”

In his first book, Pantry and Palate (Nimbus, 2017), the Halifax-based writer documents Acadian food traditions. Thibault says that in doing so, he felt a keen sense of responsibility to encourage both the continuation and preservation of the foodways of some of Canada’s earliest settlers.

He recalls a speaking engagement in his hometown of Pointe-de-l’Église, N.S. where he asked the audience members for a show of hands: How many remembered eating boudin as a staple? How many still ate it? How many knew how to make it?

“There was maybe one hand left … and that’s fine (if you don’t want to eat blood pudding), but you’re looking at your heritage, first and foremost, disappearing,” Thibault says. “And it’s not just a highfalutin kind of fun thing of, ‘Well, we grew up eating this.’ No, this is really your heritage.”

In the book, he showcases 50 recipes for well-loved Acadian classics — chicken fricot, seafood chowder, fring frangs (potato pancakes) and molasses cakes — and provides context on how these dishes originated and evolved over time.

From the French settlers of the 17th and 18th centuries, exchanges with Indigenous populations, to le grand derangement (1755–1764) and the resulting Acadian diaspora; he started with his own family’s kitchen notebooks and expanded outward.

“More than anything, everyone has a family member who made something and that we want to recreate,” Thibault says. “The core of our lives is based around food. The things that sustain us the most are the things that chase us back to our past.”

Excerpted from Pantry and Palate by Simon Thibault. Text ©2017 Simon Thibault Photos © 2017 Noah Fecks. All rights reserved. Nimbus.ca

The first thing to do is make the chicken stock. This can be done the day before. In a pot large enough to accommodate your chicken, sauté onions in the butter (or oil) until translucent. Add one teaspoon of salted green onions if you have them. If not, add a bit of salt to onions to help them sweat.

Add chicken and cover with cold water, about 12 cups (3 L). Add the bay leaves and carrots. Cover the pot and bring to boil. Reduce the heat to keep the bird at a gentle simmer. Cook for about an hour, or until meat is almost falling off the bone, but not quite.

Remove the chicken from the pot and strain the stock through a sieve. (At this point you can refrigerate your stock until you need it, or just keep it warm if you plan on making the rappie pie at the same time.)

Shred the chicken into small pieces, discarding the bones and skin. Set aside.

Grate your potatoes on a box grater or rasp. Take your time, or you’ll end up with bloody knuckles. (Alternatively, you can use a juicer to simultaneously pulverize your potatoes and remove much of the water. The texture will be mildly different, but highly comparable.)

Place portions of the rasped/grated potato into muslin or kitchen towels. Squeeze out as much of the liquid as you can. You will be adding stock to it afterwards, and you want to get out as much of the liquid as possible. (Tip: Squeeze the potatoes into a large measuring bowl. Let’s say you squeeze out 7 1/2 cups of potato water, you should add back in about 10 cups of stock. This is the ratio you’re trying to achieve. Adjust accordingly.)

Bring the stock to a roiling boil. You need it to be as hot as possible to scald the potatoes properly. Heat your oven to 425˚F (220°C).

Put the potatoes into a large bowl, big enough to accommodate at least twice its volume. (If you don’t have a bowl big enough, do this in batches, making sure to keep your stock as hot as possible for scalding the potatoes.) Break up the potatoes using a hand mixer. Mix in half of the hot stock using a hand mixer, and stir it all together, making sure to moisten the potatoes as much as possible. Mix in the rest of the hot stock and keep stirring. The mixture will thicken, but keep stirring for about 2−3 minutes after adding the last of the stock. Taste for seasoning, adding salt, pepper, and the salted green onions as you go.

Pour enough of the potato pulp to cover the bottom of your casserole dish. Add roughly 1/2 of your chicken, tossing it over the potatoes. Add enough potatoes to just cover the chicken, and then add more chicken, finally covering that with the rest of the potatoes.

Place the rappie pie into your oven. Bake at 425˚F (220°C) for 30 minutes, and then turn down the heat to 375˚F (190°C) and bake for another 1 1/2 to 2 hours. Occasionally baste the top with butter (or small dice of salt pork) to help the crust brown. The dish is ready when the crust on the top is nice and set and golden brown.

Serve warm with loads of butter, or possibly a little molasses on the side.

To make salted green onions, chop off the roots and roughly chop the green onions. Salt them well to cover, mix, and then add even more salt and mix again. Let sit overnight in a cool place. The next day, salt heavily again, pack into Mason jars and close the lids. To preserve their colour, store them in the freezer. They will last for up to a year.

Use a stockpot that is large enough to accommodate your chicken comfortably. You want it to be snug in there, but leave enough room for the cooking water. A pot that is too big can lead to a watery and weak stock.

Over medium-low heat, cook minced onion in a small amount of oil or butter, adding a dash of salt to help the onions sweat until they turn translucent.

Brown the sausage in the onion. Cook for about 6−7 minutes.

Add carrots, potatoes, cayenne, and bay leaf. Stir until the aromatics become fragrant.

In the same pot, sear chicken pieces on all sides. Add enough cold water to cover about 1 inch of the chicken and other ingredients. Bring to a gentle boil then reduce to simmer, skimming off the scum that will rise to the top to ensure a clear broth. Cook for about 1 hour. For an even more developed flavour, remove from the heat and chill overnight in the fridge to allow the flavours to meld.

Season your soup with salt and pepper. Serve piping hot.

If you’re unable to find a good smoked sausage, any good pork sausage made with cayenne (or smoked paprika) is a decent substitute. Simon Thibault’s pudding dessert is versatile — feel free to swap out the apples for cranberries or other fruit.

To serve: Brown Sugar Sauce (recipe follows)

Preheat oven to 375˚F (190°C).

Grease and line a cake dish with parchment paper.

In a large bowl, sift together the flour, brown sugar, baking powder, and salt.

Add the lard/butter and mix briefly using a pastry cutter or the paddle attachment on your standing mixer. Mix until the fat is about the size of peas.

Add the eggs and mix until well incorporated, making sure to wipe down the sides of the bowl. Add the milk, and mix well until the liquid is fully incorporated.

Add the batter to your pan. You want it to be about 1 inch thick and spread evenly.

Gently tuck pieces of apple into the batter.

Blend the cinnamon, allspice, nutmeg, and white sugar. Dust over the batter and place into the oven.

Bake for 35–40 minutes, until a toothpick comes out clean.

Serve warm with Brown Sugar Sauce (recipe follows). Fricot is “one of the most Acadian dishes,” Thibault says. This Cajun version incorporates smoked pork sausage. Over medium-low heat, melt the butter. Add the cornstarch and stir well until smooth and the butter and starch have fully melded. In a separate pot, bring water to boil. Add the brown sugar to the butter and cornstarch and stir. The sugar will clump at first, but keep stirring so it doesn’t burn. You want the brown sugar to be brought to the point where molasses starts to leech out of the sugar and begins to bubble ever so gently.

Remove from the heat, and carefully stir in the boiling water. Keep stirring until thickened and smooth.

Strain through a sieve. Add the vanilla and vinegar. Serve hot over the Baked Apple Pudding.