Roasted Chicken and Wild Rice Soup
That summer, the harvest moon was approaching very quickly. Dad made haste and scheduled a fishing trip in a far away land named Minnesota. The lake he had chosen was touted to have an abundance of pan fish swimming around, eager to jump into boats of fisherman of their own free will. Hunting for waterfowl was also amazing. The ducks were abundant, feeding off long billowing grasses in the lake. Those grasses were the most magical of grasses around. But the lake would be closing soon, for harvest season was almost here.
This is where the story begins.
It was a most wonderful fishing and hunting trip. Dad took his two sons, Jacob who was six, and Justin who just turned eight. They returned happy with a cooler full of fish and game to last through the winter. They even stopped at a local gift shop and the boys all came home with little moccasin booties.
I noticed something strange the first night they returned. I heard Jacob talking excitedly and Justin quieting him down just before I drifted off. The next day the boys were tired as they got ready for school.
"Mommy, we rode in a boat last night!" Jacob excitedly proclaimed.
Mom pacified him and sent them on their way.
That night I watched the two boys playing outside. They waved two wooden sticks carefully through the grass almost like they were little conductors, bending the grass gently and waving the other stick over the bowing blades.
"Is that what you did on the boat?" I asked as I approached.
"Shhh" Justin quietly whispered. "She can't know."
The next night we were all awakened by Jacob's cries.
"Mommy!! A spider crawled on me."
Mom stayed in the room for a while comforting Jacob.
There was a scowl on Justin's face. It was the same look he had when he was grounded. "They were taking the bugs off." grumbling he disappeared.
Jacob settled back to sleep and a tiny little spider crawled away, looking for a new home. I could swear I smelled lake water as I myself drifted back to sleep.
The next couple nights went by quietly without any incident but on the third day, just before morning a strong smell of smoke began to fill the house. It was a wonderful woodsy smell. It smelled of cold days and campfires. Little whiffs of something toasting in the fire occasionally drifted through. Hints of a toasty nutty smells passed through and in the very far away distance I heard the faintest sound of a flute. I imagined a dark starlit night, breeze whispering through the reeds of a nearby lake and then sleep over took me once again.
Sounds of anger and stern voices woke me as I made my way to the kitchen. Our parents stood over the boys, hands on hips and faces like stone.
"Your brothers were playing with matches last night. Smell their clothes!" to me and then to them, "For the last time, what were you burning and where did you find the matches?!?! What were you thinking?!?! You could have burned the house down!!!"
Justin scowled. Jacob began to tear up.
"They are our friends. They were making us rice!" he stamped off, disappearing to his room.
We all just stared blankly and Justin disappeared quickly before he could be questioned any more.
Next came the holes worn into the boys moccasins. I noticed them the first night and vowed to stay awake the next,to figure out what was going on.
Early that night, I snuck into a corner of Jacob's room and made myself at home in a pile of his clothes. He drifted off to sleep and just as I thought I could keep my eyes open no longer, Justin came into the room. He shook Jacob and the both of them, with moccasins in hand, walked to the closet. A light that shouldn't have been there glowed and the boys disappeared, walking right into it. I threw off the clothes that covered me and tiptoed to the light. The light was the moon and it lit a pathway into the night. Crickets chirped and the flute from the other night grew louder. I then heard a drum begin to beat and saw my brothers walking ahead. There were people there to meet them, giving them both hugs, gently kissing their foreheads.
I watched them each receive a bowl of something. They ate and began to run around and play with the other children. I was fascinated. What was this place? The dances then began. The moccasins went on and the boys and others were placed in large sacks or in deep holes in the ground. They began to dance and the drums played, rattles shook and the firelight lit the smiles on every one's faces. One foot went in front of the other while hips swayed and bodies turned. I wanted a closer look. What were they dancing in?
"It's Mahnomin." a sweet soft voice whispered in my ear.
"Uh oh, I had been discovered."
"We are dancing the rice." a young girl smiled at me. "It separates the grain from the shaft."
"It is our most sacred of foods, the food that grows on water. It is the first food we eat when we come into this world and many times the last food we eat before we enter the next. It feeds our bellies and our souls." Before I could even begin to comprehend the impossibility of where I was and how I had come to be here, I was pulled over to the crowd. My brothers looked over and smiled, guiltily at first but then genuinely carefree and happy. They showed off their dance and the drums beat louder; songs came. We all danced the rice, we all sang and before the sun began to rise, we walked our tired, blistered feet back down the same path.
The next night, our friends would take their trays filled with the 'danced' rice and flip them into the breeze. It was magical as the shafts blew away and the rice fell back to the trays. The magic rice was now ready for the winter and our nights away with our friends had come to an end. We would have to wait for another harvest next fall to play with our friends that had gathered from all over for that special couple weeks to dance the rice. In the years that followed, I came to know the dance of the rice. It began in the water, one person maneuvering a boat while the second person, using two wands, draped the grass over the boat with one hand and running the second wand over, freeing all of the ripe grains, letting them fall into the boat. It was done with the grace of a conductor and the symphony was nature.
The boats were filled and brought back to shore. The grains were freed of little spiders and bugs and stones and twigs. The rice was left to dry out for a few days. The fires were then lit and the grains were parched in a metal kettle, constantly stirring with a paddle so as not to burn them.
The dance of the rice began and holes in the ground, lined with furs and skins and were filled with the parched rice. The rhythmic dance loosened the shaft from the grain and then next morning, the shafts were freed from the grain in the breeze. The rice could then be stored for a indefinite period.
To this day, I love this time of year and when I eat wild rice my thoughts drift to moonlit nights and songs and dances...to the preparations and sacred rituals. I think of the sacred food and how my native friends cherish it and honor it, the food that grows on water. Now a days, I seek them out online instead of walking through my closet for the rice. The taste of the handpicked and hand parched rice far outweighs any other. The lake lives in the rice and the rice is truly wild. The commercialized rice paddies don't hold a candle to the real thing. We all need a little wild within us and we all need a little wild around us.
We all need magical nights.
We all need to honor gifts from mother nature.
Glancing up at the moon, little whiffs of a campfire drift by. There's a flute somewhere in the distance. My heart starts beating in tune with an imaginary drum. My hands fly up and I do a quick twist of a dance and then look around to see if anyone else caught sight of me. I grin and go on my way knowing a part of me will always remain where the wild rice grows.
Roasted Chicken and Wild Rice Soup
1 Whole Chicken, cut into pieces
Salt, Pepper, Paprika, Garlic Powder
Olive Oil
3-4 Celery Stalks, chopped
3-4 Medium Carrots, chopped
1 Small Onion, chopped
1 8oz Pkg Cremini Mushrooms, sliced (Baby Bells)
1 tbsp. Butter, diced
1/2 Cup Sherry
3 Boxes (quarts) Low Sodium Chicken Broth
1 1/2 cup Water
1 cup Brown Rice
1/2 cup Wild Rice
1/4 cup Flour
1/2 cup Sherry
1 cup Heavy Cream
1/4 Fresh Parsley, Chopped
Rinse chicken, pat dry and season with salt, pepper, paprika and garlic salt on both sides.
Keeping the skin on while roasting seals in the juices and adds to the flavor of the finished dish.
Place chicken in a rimmed baking sheet.
Drizzle lightly with a little olive oil.
Place in oven and let roast about 45 minutes.
Sprinkle a little salt and pepper and drizzle a small amount of olive oil on them.
Place in the oven along with the mushrooms 15 minutes AFTER you placed the chicken in the oven.
Sprinkle with a little salt and pepper.
Add 1/4 cup sherry and place the little dabs of butter over the onions and mushrooms.
You will roast the carrots and celery, the mushrooms and the onions for 30 minutes.
In a large stockpot add 3 boxes of chicken broth, the 1 1/2 cup water, the celery and carrots, and the onions and mushrooms along with any broth that has accumulated.
Add the chicken.
Add the rice.
Bring to a simmer and cover.
Let simmer, covered for 40 minutes.
Discard most of it, saving about 4 tablespoons. You'll have to eyeball it.
Carefully...place the baking sheet (making sure there's no extra grease on the outside of it; we don't want any fires here.) and straddle it over tow burners.
Heat on medium adding flour and letting it soak up the chicken grease.
Don't burn your hands...pour the sherry over the flour and stir, scraping up any pieces of caramelized chicken. Use oven mitts as the baking sheet will be hot.
Add the heavy cream, whisking to combine and eliminating any lumps that form.
When the soup has simmered about 40 minutes, remove the lid.
Let sit just for a second and skim off any fat that has accumulated on top.
Take a ladle full of soup and add to your cream mixture.
Stir to combine.
Do this three times. (Three's a lucky number.)
Heat the soup so that it just begins to boil, then turn down the heat.
Skim off any fat that floats to the top.
Add the parsley.
Season with salt and pepper to taste.
You just won me over! Impossible to go wrong with good chicken and rice. I've never 'danced the rice', but rice from the store should do the trick...
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