Guest post by Rachel Carlin
The magical number 7: a movie with Brad Pitt; a trying time for relationships, and of course the time frame Jesuit priests need to make the boy a man. This is also the length of time I had not returned to Geneva: place where I found my passion (early childhood intervention), was very happy (Flanagan’s Pub and Shaker’s Nightclub) and learnt to cook (Faith O’Neill).
Faith not only taught me to cook, she taught me to love food. She taught me that a recipe book is often better reading than the latest bestseller. She taught me to look at a recipe and adapt it to the many needs and dietary requirements of a growing family. But, the most important thing she taught me was the best way to say “I love you” is in a dish. The dish has to be like the emotion itself: consistent, easily recognisable as such, and the culinary cuddle you need on a bad day. Faith and Paul (Mr. Faith) showed the ultimate love when they allowed me, not only to join in what was essentially theirs, but let it morph and grow to fit one more (as love should) and so shit pie became ours. Shit pie was served on bad days, sad days and glad days. Faith dished up shit pie to my backpacking baby brother and reduced him to tears. I will admit to trying to make it once, but failed dismally as it just wasn’t the same without the lashings of red (cue in Paul).
Some misconceptions about shit pie:
- It isn’t a pie
- And in the same line it contains no shit
- It is not the colour of shit
Rather, it was devised by the fantastic Faith (lawyer, mother, culinary expert and awesome lady) pre-kid days in London. Legend has it, Faith opened the kitchen cupboards and announced :”There is just shit here” and proceeded to create one of my favourite dishes ever. She made it TWICE for me in a 9 day visit (four of those nights she was State side), that is how awesome she is. So, without further ado, I give you Shit Pie for 4 (uncle Sticky joined us the last night)
1 tin anchovies
Healthy shake of mixed herbs
2 onions thinly sliced
1 garlic clove minced
2 tins tomatoes (ideally peeled and cubed)
2 tins tuna in brine
1 small tin black olives (not Greek) pitted and sliced
A handful of capers
A squirt of Tabasco
Basmati Rice to serve
Lashings of red wine (for 4 at least 6 to 8 bottles)
In a frying pan, add the anchovies, with the oil and soften and then add the onions and garlic.
Next add the tomatoes and herbs.
Reduce. ( 5 to 7 minutes)
Shake on some Tabasco to taste and add tuna, olives and caper.
And yip you are done.
Serve with rice and lashings of red.