Okay. Now those of my readers who are Yoopers (specifically) or Michiganders (generally) will know exactly what I’m saying. Those of you who don’t have kith or kin in either Michigan or Cornwall might need a little explanation. The pasties of which I speak are pronounced ‘PASS- tees’. The ones you’re probably thinking about are pronounced ‘PAY- steeze’. My pasties are handheld meat pies and not little adhesive backed ‘modesty’ panels worn over, well, you know what. So from now on, each time I type ‘pasties’, please think the correct pronunciation, k? That way I don’t have to blush every time you read it.
And also for those of you not from Michigan, I should probably toss in a few other definitions:
- Yooper: A resident of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.
- U.P.: A widely used acronym for the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Well, heck, you’d get tired of typing out Upper Peninsula of Michigan every time too, eh?
- Big Mac: A nickname for the Mackinac Bridge; the 5 mile long suspension bridge that links the U.P. to the lower Peninsula.
- Trolls: Residents of the Lower Peninsula of Michigan. Get it? They live under a bridge?
- Summer: Two months of bad snowshoeing.
But back to the food…
Pasties are a Yooper (and Cornish) specialty. The Cornish miners that came over to the Upper Peninsula during the golden era of iron and copper mining brought the pasty with them as part of their homeland’s cuisine. Owing partly to it’s convenient, hand-held-meal portability and mostly to the fact that it’s mouthwateringly delicious and warms you from the inside of your toes to the tips of your ears in cold U.P. weather, pasties were soon not just the fare of Finnish and Cornish miners, but were adopted as a favored food through the entire region. More than just popular in the U.P., though, pasties make an appearance in troll restaurants under Big Mac, too. One of the best in the northern part of the lower peninsula is Cousin Jenny’s in Traverse City, Michigan.
A pasty is so representative of Yooper culture and food that those of us who are Yoopers-in-exile get wistful when we whip up a batch or talk to relatives who just picked up their pasty boxes at the local church’s fundraising drives. I had actual hunger pangs when Val emailed me the ‘pasty order form’ from an insert in their church bulletin a few Sundays back. I pictured a couple dozen Finnish grandmas up in Marquette whipping together hundreds of succulent pasties to sell to benefit the local community chest, booster club, or whatever worthy group they decided to support that year.
Then I did what I often have to do when I finish talking to Val. I walked into my kitchen because I was starving. All that pasty talk had left me with two options; feeling sorry for myself or making my own. I decided to whip up a couple dozen pasties.
Perhaps ‘whip up’ is not the best description of the process involved in making pasties. It’s a bit of a job, but if you have sisu* you can manage.
*Sisu: A Finnish term that translates roughly into English as having an inner strength of will, obstinacy or persistence to power on in the face of adversity regardless of the cost.
I heard someone describe pasties once as ‘hand held beef stew pies”. I think beef stew wishes it was a pasty. While there are variations in pasties based on what the cook can get -beef, venison, chicken, turkey, etc…- and the ratios of vegetables there are some things you’re likely to find in them all. Potatoes, onions, carrots and rutabaga are the traditional pasty veggies and I’m happy to stick with them because you don’t mess with perfection! You’re not likely to hear me saying that often in the kitchen, but we’re talking about food as tradition when it comes to pasties, people. I admit that I frequently make cheese pasties, and they’re divine, but that’s a completely different animal than a Yooper pasty. Truth be known, I don’t think of the cheese ones as pasties. I think of them as cheese pastries. Delicious, to be sure, but in a different food family altogether.
Yooper Pasties
This recipe yields about 16 plate-sized pasties. Feel free to adjust amounts but you might want a few of these in your freezer. They’re the ultimate winter meal-in-one.
Ingredients
- 1 large rutabaga and 1 small rutabaga peeled and diced
- 2 large carrots peeled and diced
- 2 medium onions peeled and diced
- 8 medium potatoes preferably a waxy variety like Yukon golds or reds, peeled and diced
- 4 pounds lean ground beef
- enough sturdy pie dough for eight double crust pies - I use the butter tart crust dough from the Fannie Farmer cookbook. If you need the recipe or eight boxes prepared refrigerated pie crusts, email me and I'll happily pass it along!
- salt and pepper to taste
Notes
Nutritional information is an estimate and provided to you as a courtesy. You should calculate the nutritional information with the actual ingredients used in your recipe using your preferred nutrition calculator.
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First you are going to sharpen your knife so that if you slip and take off a finger while wrestling your rutabaga it’ll be easier to reattach. I kid. Sort of. My point is this. Exercise caution with the rutabaga because it does not go gently into that good night.
The best way to prepare the recalcitrant little beast is to slice a sliver off one end of the rutabaga so that it stands sturdily on your cutting board. Then use your biggest sharpest knife to lob it in half. If it’s freaking you out too much to try to hold a slippery, wax covered, round and really hard vegetable while trying to cut it, feel free to whack it in half with a hatchet or an axe. Just don’t do it on your kitchen counter!
Once you have the brute opened, lay it on the flat side and dismantle it further so your original sphere is in quarters. Take another little bit off the bottom so you can stand the quarters up on their ends and use another sharp knife to remove the peel from the insides.
From this point on, cut the rutabaga into 1/4″ slices and stack them like a deck of cards.
Now you’ll take your rutabaga cards and slice them into 1/4″ strips that will then be cut into 1/4″ cubes. Isn’t that wonderfully symmetrical? Combine all diced vegetables in a gigantic mixing bowl. Break up ground beef over the top, add salt and pepper to taste, and mix up thoroughly.
Roll out a piece of pie crust to a diameter between 8″ and 10″. Lay on a pie plate with the crust hanging over the lip of the plate by about 1/4″. Use your hands or a large spoon to transfer as much filling onto the crust as you can, mounding and pressing down lightly with your hands, to fill the half of the crust that is hanging over the plate.
Now fold the empty part of the pie crust over the filling, pinch the seams together, transfer to your countertop and crimp the edges with a fork. Using yet another sharp knife, slice three little vents into the top of the pasty and transfer it to a baking dish or parchment lined baking pan.
Now slide those pans into a preheated 375°F oven and bake for 45 minutes to an hour. Since pasties don’t traditionally get an egg glaze, they won’t be a shiny brown when done, but a deep crispy looking golden brown. Oh I’m getting so hungry talking about these.
Serve hot, cold, or anything in between. My Dad used to heat his pasties up on the steam-pipe at the factory where he worked or on the manifold of the log skidder he operated. I meant it when I said they were portable!
To eat in true Yooper fashion, smother with good ketchup. If you have an aversion to ketchup you can serve with whatever gravy you prefer. Either way they’re soooooo good.
Reader's Thoughts...
Julie says
Thank you for providing the photos- I made these for the first time tonight and they were fabulous thanks to your help. I used ground buffalo instead of beef and just used rutabaga and carrots since I had no potatoes. A new staple in our northern wisconsin household. Thanks!
Cynthia says
I don’t think I’ve ever eaten a rutabaga. The little pies look a bit like Polish Pierogies, but I’m guessing they’re heavier – more of a pot pie in a pocket kind of thing. Sounds like a good recipe for fall.
Jessa says
saude camp… The one and only!
And on the rutabaga/broccoli comparison, well, they are in the same family–both are brassicas. But so is tatsoi. and canola. and mustard. Want that in your pasty? Well, maybe not, but we all need a little chlorophyll, so I guess it could work. We had some good ones with parm. cheese and peas added this summer. Vegetarian ones from the natural food store/co-op in Houghton, Mi. yum…
Thanks for the pasty recipe sis. Grandma told me she made her crust with boiling water poured over shortening (“crisco”) in L’Anse many years ago. SHe would refrigerate the finished dough overnight, then wake up early with the other cooks at the church and roll out tons and tons of paper-thin crusts for the pasties.
I’d like to develop a nice gluten-free dough for non-wheat days around here. Buckwheat flour maybe?
And lots and lots of ketchup.
Kam A says
I grew up in Northern WI so I am very familiar with pasties but I have never made my own- I will have to try it! Thank you for the recipe 🙂
Congrats on your 100th post!!
Derenda says
Happy 100th! Have a great day!
Lis says
yum! that looks soo very delicious i will definitely try that wish i could cook it now though 🙂
reeva says
that looks yummy. i’m not the best cook but i’ll be trying a version of this
Kristine says
Yum! So THAT’S what they mean by “Yooper Beer”. It’s all making sense now.
chris says
Congrats! I’m a michigander myself
sara angel says
congrats! and thanks for the mini michigan lesson!
sena says
Congrats on your 100th entry! I’d love to see more awesome recipes! 🙂
Pasties? I love them!
Debbie says
My husband & I were raised in TC, and going over the bridge meant you were on
vacation. I’ve made pasties for over 25 years – and I’m the only one of 5 that will use ketchup! The rest eat them plain….. and don’t salt their less than perfect watermelon, either. Ah well. At least they eat the rutabaga.
I love your column, and read it online from out west. You have a great balance between real life and the ‘best’ way. Thanks!
bunny says
Oh wow! YUM!! These look like curry puffs that you can find in Malaysia! Only bigger!
Krista says
Well! What a great entry to be my first to read! I am challenged to try this yummy dish. Great job Rebecca and Val!
Fuji Mama says
Oh yum. I haven’t had pasties in forever and these look fabulous!
B Momigan says
Hi! I popped in from tastespotting because I have been looking for a good recipe for meat pies. I just need to figure out how to sneak the rutabegas past the picky eaters and I’ll be set. Maybe I’ll send them to check out the Fall foliage while I cook.
Liz says
The best way to sneak rutabagas in the mix is to grind them up.
Rebecca says
Nice idea, Liz!
Kerrie says
I’m all for anything that combines meat, onions and pastry. And to think I’ve been pronouncing it wrong all these years. But you’ll have to forgive me, not many pastie fans in Oregon.
Da Poppa says
I almost forgot….
Here are two more definitions that are important if you will be traveling in the UP.
Da Bridge…. the most common nickname for the Mackinac Bridge. Like…is there any other bridge you could be talking about?
Down below…. any destination south of Da Bridge.
James Lucas says
I haven’t had a pastie since I was a wee little boy. You should make one with lamb and mint. Mmmm.
Kimberly says
Hmmm. Weird. My gramma, who grew up in central Virginia, made this, because HER mom made them. Almost exactly the same recipe except that ours use bacon, not ground beef, and not so much. So they are more potatoey than meatey. But now that I think of it, her FATHER and paternal grandparents probably brought them down from Michigan when they moved to central Virginia in the late 1800s. And they were Swedish! But they were from Michigan’s UP and that probably is where they came from! How interesting. Culinary anscestry…..