The Taste of Southern Culture At It's Finest

This past Sunday was grocery shopping day and I decided to go early that morning in hopes to beat the crowd. I walked into the store with my list of meals in hand. I knew I wanted to try making Chicken and Dumplings again, as I had only made them one time before. It was intimidating because there was only a memory recipe I kept in my head. No recipe can equate to the memory of watching my mother  make them numerous times growing up. So I bought only one thing-a whole chicken.   Usually I'm too scared to take the giblets out myself (having never done that before) but the price of a whole chicken with giblets just couldn't be beat.

"$5.35!" I said to myself. "That's such a good price." 

The giblet free preseasoned chicken was well over $10. Way more expensive than I wanted to pay. So I told myself I would just have to close my eyes and stick my hand into the cold grossness and remove the giblets myself. I almost fainted with the thought of how disgusting it was going to be (Momma Drama).

I hurried home and excitedly told the kids we were going to be making Chicken and Dumplings today. "Ohhhhh can I help mom?" Baby Girl said in a sing-song voice. 

"I would love for you to help me," I replicated back in her same sing-song way.

So that's  what we did. Baby Girl, Baby Boy and I made them together- it was a family affair ;) 

I took the chicken out of the bag and did something so incredibly stupid. But I have to tell you because it made me laugh later on. After psyching myself up for the giblet removal part, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to stick my hand inside. My fingers wouldn't budge! It felt so cold and nasty. But I just wasn't doing something right! So I opened my eyes and discovered that the whole time I was trying to stick my hand in the neck of this headless, featherless bird!  *facepalm 1*

(Not my own picture but you get the idea.)

Once the giblets were finally removed and I had rinsed off the chicken, I stuck it in a stock pot full of water and let it boil for over an hour or so. I knew it was done when my meat thermometer read 180 degrees. And then I double checked it by cutting into it and making sure the juices ran clear.

This next step is important...

(Do not throw away your stock pot water! This is now your chicken stock base for the soup.)

The last thing I had to do with the chicken was take all the meat off. But I couldn't do that while it was hot, so I placed it in the refrigerator to cool off. 

Here's a picture of Baby Girl and I taking the meat off. We made sure to take off all the skin and remove the bones. Don't want a mouth full of that in your dumplings!

It was such a good experience to sit there with her and "work" together. She's secretly sneak bites and say,"Mom, I don't want to help anymore." 

"Okay Baby Girl you don't have to but remember our sign in the kitchen...Each for the other and all for the Lord. That means we all have to work to keep the family going."

And then she'd go back and tear a piece off and then sneak a piece. She was just so cute, I couldn't say anything.

When the chicken was done, it was time to make the dumplings. All I needed were two ingredients: self rising flour and a cup full of my chicken stock base. 

But me being the novice that I am did another really dumb thing. (By the way, I'm telling you all this so you don't repeat the same mistakes as me!) For some reason, I thought that you could just plop your flour on the counter and pour the stock on top of it and it would automatically soak it up. Wrong :/ Nasty chicken stock went sliding right off into my clean floor and down my cabinets. 

Here's a pic of me cleaning up the mess I made. Baby Girl is a pretty good photographer.

Now that's much better. If anyone decides to try this out, put the flour in a bowl first. *facepalm 2*

2 cups flour to 1 cup chicken stock 

Once the dough ball had formed, both kids dragged their chairs into the kitchen to help. I think they were attracted to the mess and the dough. So each got a small dough ball to play with. While kneading it, I couldn't help but remember pushing a chair up to my Mamow's countertop and playing with dough as a kid too.

I let them use cans as a rolling pin. Mine was made by my brother on the wood lathe when he was in high school. I treasure it and think about how what a wonderful gift it is.

(Don't forget to flour your countertop and rolling pin so it doesn't stick!)

I rolled it out to about the thickness of a "hand tossed pizza crust." Not to thin, not too thick.

Then I cut it into squares using a pizza cutter.

This is a great activity for them to practice cutting!

Baby Boy tried his very best.

Once that was completed it was time to add the chicken back to the chicken stock. I turned the stove on medium high because I wanted a slow boil but not overkill.

Once the mixture was on a slow boil it was time to add the dumplings. One at a time and constantly stirring so that they didn't stick together.

Baby Girl also wanted to do this step too.

Once all my dumplings were in, I turned it down just a bit and constantly stirred it. You know when the dumplings are done when they float to the surface, they have a nice shine to them and when you bite into them, they're not gooey.

For the finishing touches, I wanted just a hint of Rosemary. So I took my Rosemary off the stock and put it into the mixture with 3 tbsp butter, kosher salt ( Rachel Ray says to, "Let it rain," so that's what I did and as much black pepper as you like.

The last step was simple. Always always always share your creation with family or friends. So I texted the neighbors and told them to come over. Dinner was served and everyone got seconds (the best compliment around).

You know why cooking is so important to me? Because it allows the kids to be creative but it also instills our southern culture in them. I want them to grow up knowing these ways. Once I'm gone, the recipe dies. I know that's morbid to talk about but it's true!!! They need to have these recipes in their hearts so that when they find themselves in an unfamiliar time or place they can always just go back to their roots. They can whip up a southern meal in no time and think, "I remember doing that with mom." They can be comforted in the memories of home, family and the taste of southern culture at its finest.