Canadian Meat Pie

January 2033. Three hundred weeks of the journal. I thought about week two hundred, when I'd noted that milestone and made a full traditional meal. This week I noted it again and made something simpler: a pot of beans and the cornbread that goes with it, eaten alone in the kitchen in the January cold.

Three hundred weeks. Fourteen and a half years. Jesse Whitehawk, forty-five years old, on a piece of land east of Kenwood, Oklahoma that has been his for twelve years. Teaching two subjects at the vocational center. Running the Cherokee Nation events he took from Art. Working in the morning on the food journal and in the afternoon on whatever the land needs. River coming to Thursday dinners. Caleb in a treatment program and holding on. Kai here for his second summer on the agroecology project. Hannah and Thomas and Wren in Tahlequah. Lily in Norman with her book on its way to a second printing.

The beans tasted right. They tasted like the beans Danny had growing when I was seven years old watching him in his kitchen. They tasted like the first batch I made from the Stilwell woman's dried stock. They tasted like every winter Thursday when the family needed feeding and I made the thing that fed the family. Three hundred weeks of this. More to come.

I wrote it down: week three hundred. January 2033. Cold outside, beans on the stove, everything I built still standing. Danny's notebooks on the shelf. The food journals full. The land asleep in winter, already waiting for spring.

Three hundred weeks is a long time to keep showing up at the stove, and when I thought about what to share alongside this milestone, I kept coming back to the idea of a dish that holds — one that takes time and intention and pays it back in warmth. This Canadian meat pie is that kind of recipe: sturdy, deeply savory, the sort of thing you make when you want the meal itself to say that everything is still standing. It’s not the beans I made that January night, but it carries the same spirit — feed the people at your table something real, something that took care to make, something worth writing down.

Prep Time: 30 minutes | Cook Time: 1 hour 15 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 45 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

2 9-inch pie crusts (top and bottom), homemade or store-bought
1 lb ground pork
1/2 lb ground beef
1 medium onion, finely diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 medium potatoes, peeled and finely diced
1/2 cup beef or chicken broth
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon allspice
1/4 teaspoon dried thyme
1 egg, beaten (for egg wash)

Instructions

Cook the filling. In a large skillet over medium heat, combine the ground pork, ground beef, onion, and garlic. Cook, breaking up the meat, until browned and the onion is softened, about 10 minutes. Drain excess fat.
Add potatoes and seasoning. Stir in the diced potatoes, broth, salt, pepper, cloves, cinnamon, allspice, and thyme. Reduce heat to medium-low, cover, and simmer until potatoes are tender and most of the liquid has been absorbed, about 20 minutes. Taste and adjust seasoning. Let cool slightly.
Preheat oven. Heat oven to 375°F (190°C).
Assemble the pie. Fit one pie crust into a 9-inch pie dish. Spoon the meat filling in evenly. Lay the second crust over the top, trim the edges, and crimp to seal. Cut a few small vents in the top crust to allow steam to escape.
Apply egg wash. Brush the top crust with the beaten egg for a golden finish.
Bake. Bake for 40–45 minutes, until the crust is deep golden brown. If the edges begin to brown too quickly, cover them loosely with foil.
Rest and serve. Let the pie rest for 10 minutes before slicing. Serve warm.

Nutrition (per serving)

Canadian Meat Pie — The Kind of Comfort That Holds Everything Together