Turkey Pot Pie (by Kat)

There's a first for everything, and here's my first pot pie!

Thanksgiving wasn't at our house this year, so no turkey-day leftovers, but I did purchase a turkey on the cheap last week and cooked it up. That was on Sunday, so we ate leftover turkey up until Thanksgiving.

Then on Thanksgiving we had non-leftover (original?) turkey at my husband's folks' house.

Then I nibbled on leftover turkey at Bet's Thursday night. Friday night, we had the most delicious turkey noodle soup.

Saturday night was pizza! Then home on Sunday to finish up the pre-Thanksgiving turkey leftovers...

Just as there's a first for everything, there's also a second. This was only the second turkey I'd ever cooked. It came out juicy enough for the first evening, but was pretty dry after that. I knew that tonight, the final night of this turkey, I needed to make something really moist, and the pieces needed to be small. That nixed the typical turkey divan, and inspired me to try pot pie.

First step, cut up the happy carrots, two potatoes, and a couple leeks,
then saute them up with some olive oil, salt, and pepper.

Add diced up leftover turkey and a bit of parsley from
this summer's garden, dried but still very green.

Add a bit of stock (this was from Better than Bouillon).
Thicken with some cornstarch.
Adjust the salt and pepper.

While the meat heats and the sauce thickens, roll out your pie crust you
made in the pre-first-step step.
Does that make sense?

If Rorschach was female, we'd have pie crust blots, not ink blots.
Surely I'm not the only person to have thunk that thought, right?

Taste the sauce one more time, add sage and salt, think about a splash of wine,
decide the crust will melt if you take the time to open it now.
Decide to serve the wine with dinner, instead of in dinner.
Bake at 400F until the crust is yummy looking (about 40 minutes).

The flowers on this pie plate always make me smile.
It's not really pretty when combined with the drooling....

Let sit for a few minutes, then serve.
Please don't be like me and forget to serve the wine.