Blossom: Day Three, Making a Mockery

Tastes like chicken.

Wednesday 3 Frocktober

Outfit

• Work uniform (at work)
• Union headband and crocheted cardigan (at home)

 Menu

• Breakfast -same as yesterday
• Lunch - small amount of leftover Irish Stew, cheese and salad sandwich
• Afternoon tea -same as yesterday
• Dinner - Mock Roast Chicken, vegetables

Mood

• Hooooope ... full?

Another day at the factory, and a long one at that. Happily I didn't have to go home via any shops.

Getting a bit tired of carrots and spuds. Oh ... it's only Day Three.

Oh.

I was feeling a bit English today, so I raced home and put on my Union headband. It is a nice warm evening so I popped on a pair of high-waisted trousers (so? ...) and a sweet comfy little crocheted cardigan. I felt like a brave, independent 1940s factory housewife, who is prepared for whatever Fate may send. As long as Fate doesn't send V2s.

Gritty reportage-style portrait. There'll always be an England!

For tonight's dinner I decided to try a recipe from one of my 1940s cookbooks: Mock Roast Chicken.

I was very excited at the thought, but the Captain looked so worried I took pity on him and baked some actual chicken, just for him, to accompany it.

 I ended up making a double quantity of the recipe, so I can use some to eke out the leftover Irish Stew for lunch tomorrow ... yes folks, two lamb chops and two small bits of bacon have lasted SIX adult meals. Not big meals. In fact when I'd finished my stew for lunch I had a sandwich too, just to fill in the edges.

Okay, let's mock up a chicken.

Blossom's Mock Roast Chook

Start with - you guessed it - your spuds.

Boil the living daylights out of them.

You will also need hard-boiled eggs.

Boil them. A lot of forties food involves boiling.

Finely chop some onions and some herbs. In this case, sage and tarragon.

Traditional chook flavourings.

Mash your spuds. No milk, no butter. Mix them with the chopped-up boiled eggs, the onions, herbs, a couple of fresh eggs ...

Some self-raising flour ...

Just an excuse to show off my adorable ceramic apple-shaped flour jars.

... And a bit of milk. Add a pinch of salt. Grease a pie dish well with margarine and pour in your Mock Chicken mixture.

It's chicken! Bork, bork.

Uncanny, isn't it? WHICH ONE IS THE MOCK CHICKEN?!

Bake it in a moderate oven for 45 mins to an hour. Incidentally, the same amount of time it takes to bake the Captain's chook in sage, tarragon and lemon juice.

Serve with as many vegies as you can manage, to eke it out.

The finished product:

One is chicken. One is MOCK CHICKEN. Only their mother could tell them apart.

The finished product is kind of ... spongy in texture. Like colcannon, but bouncier.

Oh ... will I regret that comparison one day?

The Captain wasn't too sure. After much analysis, we worked out that it's because it is quite eggy. See, the Mock Roast Chicken is not entirely untouched by all of Chook-dom.

Me? I loved it. Loved it. and you know what? In my head it tasted a lot like roast chicken, in spite of the slightly bouncy-colcannon-style texture.

After much analysis, I worked out that it's because it tasted like traditional sage-and-onion stuffing. In my head, I associated the stuffing flavour so strongly with chicken that I actually almost tasted chicken.

Kind of.

But after months of rationing, and if I hadn't tasted actual chicken for a long time, I reckon it would be good enough. Good enough for Sunday lunch? Perhaps after a few more years of rationing. But it makes a tolerable side-dish to chicken, according to the Captain.

(I think he's just being nice, and he'd go for baked pumpkin any time.)

So he's having all the leftover chook, and I'm having all the leftover Chook2012TM.

Bork, bork.

Frock you later.

Blossom