Turkey Pot Pie

I am finally feeling better, and for the most part my energy level has returned to normal. It's a good thing, since my house was becoming quite the mess and I was very tired of eating canned soup to stay alive. So on the weekend I decided to finally make the turkey pot pie that I had been planning to make for a while.

The sauga of the turkey pot pie begins a few Sundays ago when I was reading the back of the Bisquick box while waiting for some biscuits to bake. I found the pot pie recipe, and decided that I would head off to the store that afternoon. With a trusty list of ingredients in hand, I trudged through the snow to purchase the fixens for my pie. However, by the time I got back I didn't have the energy to make it that day.

My intention was to make the pie the next day, but after receiving an invite to Paul's house for supper I decided to wait until Tuesday. But then I invited myself over to Paul's on the Tuesday. After that, I knew that the likelihood of making the pie that week was nil, and since I was not willing to let good turkey breast go to waste I threw it in the freezer for the following weekend.

The following weekend was Paul's birthday, so I decided that the best present I could give him was to velcro myself to his couch for the weekend. Paul disagrees and is still waiting for a good present. In fact, his level of disagreement was so high that he fed me virus laiden chicken puri puri and virus laiden blueberry pancakes.

NB: This explains the two weeks of pain, suffering and general lack of energy that I just endured. I would be more upset, except the chicken puri puri and blueberry pancakes were quite tasty, and Paul was more sick than I was. And to be honest, I have my own house that I really should be spending more time at, so ultimately it is my own fault I got sick.

So on Sunday I was feeling much better and decided it would be a good day to cook the turkey pot pie, so I took the turkey out of the freezer to thaw. My intentions were good, but I wound up spending the day reading a book, and dug out a frozen bag of pasta and stored the turkey in my fridge.

Now that the turkey has been frozen, I had two choices: throw it out or cook it. I feel I am doing a complete disservice to the dead animal by throwing it out, so last night I finally battoned down the hatches and started to cook the pie. I knew going into it that I could not finish cooking the pie in one night, so last night's contribution consisted of eating the left over pasta followed by tossing the turkey into the oven.

Tonight I came home salivating like Pavlov's dogs at the prospect of fresh turkey pot pie. Recall that Sunday I was quite lazy, so the kitchen was a mess. A half hour of cleaning later, I pulled out my trusty knife and cutting board then proceeded to cube the turkey. I judged correctly, and had the requisite 2 cups of cubic meat all measured out.

The next stage consisted of mixing the turkey, vegetables, and a can of creamy chicken soup together for the base. The thought process went like this:
Pie plate - check!
Cubic turkey - check!
Cubic turkey in the pie plate - check!
Vegetables - check!
Can of creamy chicken soup
.
.
.
Can of creamy chicken soup
.
.
.
FRACK! I ate the creamy chicken soup while I was sick.

So in the end I wound up putting the turkey in a Ziploc bag, cleaned my kitchen a second time, and ate an All Bran Bar that I found while rumaging around my cupboard for the chicken soup.

Tomorrow night I will resume the great turkey pot pie adventure by purchasing the chicken soup. And after three days of waiting, this better be one damned good pie!