Showing posts with label Running. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Running. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Meet The Bunk.

There are times where you swing for the fences and invariably strike out. Thus far, this is the story of my work week. Despite my best intentions, each day has brought new opportunities for mistakes, missteps, and failure. 

Our Hansons Marathon Method workouts this week should be the hardest part of the day. 4x1200 repeats at 30 seconds under marathon pace on Monday; 10 miles with 7 at marathon pace today. In the muggy Central PA conditions, they've been killer. Yet, I've managed to ace both. If only the same could be said for other portions of the day.

The Bunk is strictly suit and tie... and Penn State!
The week's challenges have been made better by great workouts and my new friend and future running buddy, The Bunk (yes, like in The Wire).

Mr. Run on Sentences and I adopted our little guy on Saturday from Whispering Woods Animal Rescue. This 12-week old Boston Terrier/Boxer mix is the sweetest little guy (even if he has sharp teeth and cries when he thinks we may leave him). 

As I sit here on my lunchbreak, he's curled up next to me expressing all the unconditional love I could ever need. I can't wait to clip off some easy miles with him when he's grown, spend time with him under the Christmas tree, and celebrate life's blessings with his little tail wagging constantly. 

The Bunk will become a frequent guest of the blog, no doubt. He'll also be cheering us in at tonight's Harrisburg Mile Road Race

Prepare for cuteness. Lots of cuteness Seriously. Just look at him!

Do you have a dog? Did you adopt from a rescue? Like to run with your four legged friend? Leave a comment with your adoption and running stories or advice for new puppy parents!

Thursday, September 20, 2012

Recipe: Roasted Sweet Potato, Beet & Chorizo Hash

I love this time of year. Besides the choice running conditions, the changing season means that our beloved local market has been an autumnal treasure trove. Chock-o-block full of sweet potatoes, beets, butternut squash, kale... you name it. I couldn’t resist the temptation to bring a mess home with me and roast them off so we’d have lots of delicious options for the week.
 

I settled on some sweet potatoes and beets (looked the best, good price) and I was eager to let the kitchen guide me in their use. I opened my freezer, and (as per usual) I zeroed in on my rope of Spanish chorizo, a staple for our household. I decided I’d throw the veggies together with some of that chorizo, mix it with some eggs and make a hash one day that week. Win.

I love chorizo more than any human should, but you can easily sub in any kind of meat, cheese or vegetable that you like. If you do use chorizo, make sure to get the Spanish stuff, as it’s cured and has a rich and delicious smoky flavor. A little goes a long way! (At least that's what I tell myself so I don't eat it all...)
Hashes like this are so easy to throw together and entirely flexible in quantity and ingredients. Feel free to leave a comment on how your variations turn out!


Fresh outta the oven and in glass!
 Fortunately, my husband caught me snacking
on the beets before I ate them all...
For the roasting, you'll need:

4 medium sweet potatoes

6 medium beets
Olive Oil
Paprika
Cayenne pepper
Salt (kosher or sea)
Black pepper
 


Wash, peel (if needed), and cut the veggies into ½” cubes. Set aside. (Note:  An easier way to peel and grip beets without dyeing the kitchen and yourself a crimson hue? Latex exam gloves.)

In a large bowl, combine enough oil to coat the veggies, and mix with paprika and cayenne (or whatever spices you prefer) to taste. You’ll want to mix them together to make a paste-type coating for the veggies. The saturated flavor of the paprika and cayenne will add so much smoky flavor to the sweet vegetables and compliment the chorizo perfectly.

Add the veggies to an ungreased baking sheet; sprinkle with salt and black pepper to taste. Roast at 425 until they are tender on the inside and slightly crisp on the outside. Check and turn them every 10 minutes. (Your beets will shrink. A lot. Ye be warned. )

If you're using these on a different day, allow the veggies to cool a bit and refrigerate them in glass (preferably). I kept the two separate, but I’m crazy like that.



Not the greatest photo quality, but this
hash can't be beet! (Sorry, couldn't resist that one.)
For a Roasted Sweet Potato, Beet & Chorizo Hash for 2:

2 oz. Spanish chorizo picante
2 cups roasted vegetables
3-4 eggs
Milk (for egg mixture)
Cheese (your favorite - for top or mixing in at the end)
 


Crack 3-4 eggs in a bowl and add a squirt each of mustard and sriracha (optional but encouraged), and some salt and black pepper. Loosen the mixture with a few tablespoons of milk until desired consistency.

Mince the chorizo into small pieces (it’s easier to cut if it’s frozen/really cold) and place into a large skillet on medium heat.

Saute the chorizo for a few minutes until the fat renders off and the bits become brown (try not to pick out too many for yourself!).

Add the vegetables and saute until they become brown and crisp.

Add egg mixture and stir constantly until the eggs are desired doneness. I know everyone has their own preference, but crispy egg bits are delicious.

Top with a bit of your favorite cheese (or stir it in at the end) and serve! 


You can enjoy this balanced dish safe in the knowledge that it’s yummy, satisfying, and able to fuel some pretty big morning runs.


Beer Pairing:  Dogfish Head 120 Minute IPA. The alcoholic-yet-sweet nose, silky texture, and complex finish paired beautifully with the spice from the chorizo and sweetness from the veggies. It's a massive beer, so I recommend splitting it so that you can actually remember how good your meal was.

 ¡Buen provecho!

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Sub 3? It's a BFD.

I want to make sure that everyone saw the great commentary that Runner’s World Magazine’s Mark Remy provided about Congressman Paul Ryan’s fabricated marathon time. He really captures what a lot of us are thinking. 

Here is my humble, lengthy (and perhaps unworthy) take...

Did the Congressman think he could say something in passing and dupe the American people? Does his P90x bedazzlement give him the right to make claims about an exceptional marathon time, and - when called to the carpet - the gall to nonchalantly say he “misremembered” it?

I don’t think so.

As a political animal, I freely recognize that I’ve jumped all over this year's GOP ticket for their treatment of workers, the middle class, and especially women. I get that candidates aren’t perfect people, and that it’s really hard to control the message all the time in a vicious, grueling 24-hour news cycle. What I don’t get is how Ryan’s interpretation of sportsmanship isn’t more of a commentary on his honor.

I will say that at this juncture, I care more about his integrity than his campaign, and here’s why:

Completing a marathon says a lot about a person. It displays a level of dedication that many don’t possess. He could have easily said that he ran a 4:00 marathon and we’d have been impressed. Really.

And even when we found out his time wasn’t what he said it was, he ever-so-casually brushed it off as if it wasn’t a big deal.

Well, it is.

As Remy so eloquently put it, a sub-3:00 marathon is a "big freaking deal." My husband needs a 3:05 for a Boston Qualifier and I am constantly in awe of his athleticism, determination, and dedication to becoming the best athlete that he can be.

As marathoners, we fight tooth and nail just to inch closer to a BQ (or a certain time goal). It could take years to reach it. We change our lifestyles to accommodate daunting training. We endure the pain of disappointment and... well.. the pain that comes with enduring a 26.2 mile race.

After my 3:36:26 in Philly last year, it would have been so easy to tell friends I hit "about a BQ" and that I (for some reason) wasn’t able to do Boston this year. But that would be very, very wrong.

Those 94 seconds represent so much more than time. They’re the difference between earning a highly coveted distinction and a running a great marathon. The accountability of the recreational competitive running community is - for the most part - built on honesty, regardless of whether the outcome is good or bad. Not, as Remy puts it, the hubris displayed in deflating one’s time so much.

I’ll step off of my soapbox now and share something on a lighter note:
 

My husband is awesome.

He surprised me with Springsteen tickets for Sunday’s show at Citizens’ Bank Park. Under the guise of taking care of some work before the holiday, we cut our weekend trip short, piled into the car and headed to Philly. Little did I know he had hidden tickets in the map pocket and even stashed poster board and sharpies (for the ubiquitous request signs)! It was such a wonderful surprise and by far the best date in long time. 

This was our fourth show and the first time we’d gone into the General Admission pit. It was the single greatest concert experience of my life. He didn’t play our requests (I asked for “Blinded by the Light,” my karaoke favorite which is NOT by Manfred Mann; he asked for “Kitty’s Back”), but gave the show his absolute everything. And it was lovely to see Big Man’s nephew owning it on sax... he really honored his uncle’s legacy.

Backstreets.com estimates that Sunday’s show had a whopping run time of 3 hours, 43 minutes. That’s 33 songs deep. He’s 62.

So, since Bruce is pretty much
in constant motion for the duration of his show, I plugged his time into the Paul Ryan Marathon Calculator. Turns out his effort is worth a 2:41:39.

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Nausea, Downpours, Bloody Knees... Oh My!

Last week, in the span of 24 hours, I managed to overcome uncontrollable vomit, torrential rain, and some gnarly skinned knees. You know you want to hear this story.

Let's flash back to two Sundays ago...

Woke up on a humid morning to some drizzle. That’s nothing new for this time of year, so my husband and I got ready to set off on our 20 milers.
 

I set out on my run with a playlist full of podcasts* and started my Charity Miles app (I run for Feeding America when I use it). I clicked off the miles steadily and then went to take my next dose of Clif shotbloks at mile 16 and felt terribly wrong. I leaned over to heave a bit, tried to take some water and couldn’t get it down. I tried to run a little farther, but my jelly legs said to turn around and get back to the YMCA as soon as possible. Making it with about 30 seconds to spare - just enough time to get my earbuds off - I was head in toilet for what seemed like an eternity.

This happens more than it should on humid days. I don’t know why, but it does. I’m even retooling my hydration and nutrition strategy to get my stomach more accustomed to processing the carbs I need on the run. But something on Sunday didn’t sit well, and I ended up 2 ½ miles short.

All afternoon, I felt a nagging.
(I don’t leave well enough alone.) I needed to finish those miles, if for no other reason than to complete my Charity Miles goal. So, when I got home from a grad school function, I changed and went back out. Just as I got three blocks into my run, the wind changed and the clouds moved in. And then torrential rain came crashing down behind me. I tried to outrun it, but the problem is that I had to run into it to get home.

At first my body felt too weak to endure such hard rain. It was like running into cling film - like I’d eventually get snapped back and tossed to the ground. But eventually, I was relishing in the rain. It had cleansed all of the toxins from the earlier run. Soaked to the bone, I arrived home and made a scrumptious batch of sweet potato waffles with chorizoed kale.

All was well. I got up on Monday for my 5 miles with 5 strides, thankful that I had overcame the previous days' setbacks. Careful to dodge puddles, I sailed through my out-and-back course. That is, however, until I hit a muddy patch and pounded into the sidewalk.

I got up straightaway and examined for serious injuries. Thankfully, they were all just flesh wounds. But my poor pepper spray now looks like it belongs in dented tin can section of a discount supermarket. 
I'm convinced that my kneecaps will
eventually become two big scars.
 
Even days later, my knees still looked pretty bad. It served as a constant reminder of failure. So I looked at my training log ahead of Saturday’s long run and saw the great miles I’ve clocked already, and perspectives immediately shifted.

After a particularly great marathon pace run on Thursday, I realized that so often we succeed far more frequently than we fail, yet we always seem to focus on shortcomings. I’m especially hard on myself this time around because I want to run Boston so much that I can barely contain my emotions enough to talk about it. But with all of this pressure, how can I possibly enjoy the amazing gifts that running has bestowed on my life?

I thought of all of this on Saturday, as I set out for a 16 mile tour of Allison Hill, Paxtang, and Harrisburg’s Riverfro
nt. The course was brutally hilly and I had some initial doubt about my readiness for such a tough go of it. But I kept thinking about how bad last week was, and how grateful I was to have a fresh podcast playlist, a fueling strategy that may just work, and another shot at exceeding my potential.

And as I pushed up those long steep slogs (seriously, I think I ran 11 of 16 miles uphill), I smiled... and huffed and puffed until I conquered the next hill.


*My podcast rotation regularly includes Wait Wait... Don't Tell Me!, How to Do Everything, This American Life, Fresh Air, Planet Money, Here's the Thing, Snap Judgement and Real Time with Bill Maher (all available on iTunes).  I like to learn while I run and save music for race day.

How have you overcome self-doubt after a couple consecutive tough runs? I'd love to hear from you in the comments!

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Morning Has Broken

On Monday, I stumbled upon a piece on Competitor Magazine's website about how one of the writers gains a special kind of spiritual fulfillment from his Sunday runs. 

I couldn't have said it better myself. But, then again, I don't typically talk about my spirituality.

During training I don't make it to formal worship all that often. I grew up in the Presbyterian tradition and still embrace some of its causes; however, as I get older, I have found that my spirituality has really blossomed outside of a brick-and-mortar church. Sunday mornings are now typically reserved for waking up early and logging 2-3 hours of running before most folks get through the sermon. 

That's not to say I don't have guilt about missing services. I thought (and still sometimes think) that somehow I'd become a lesser Presbyterian because my glutes were firing on the road instead of seated in a pew. I know a lot of people believe that attendance is required to be a good Christian and that's totally fine - to each their own. I, however, find that I get my best prayer and meditation in during my runs. 

And best of all, that spiritual time extends to each of the 5 or 6 days a week I run.

Taking it all in during a Sunday morning 14 miler throughout Point Loma and Mission Bay in San Diego (February, 2012). This route featured some of the most stunning miles I've ever run (more on SoCal jaunts in a future post).
Especially during hard workouts, I remember to take at least a quarter mile or so to think about how blessed I am to be healthy and free to run where I please. No phones. No music. No email. Just peace. 

It's an opportunity to reflect, to collect, to offer praise, to ask for help. 

These past few days, I've been increasingly thankful for bearing witness to the wonder of daybreak. I've been in awe of watching night gradually give way to the greyed mauve of dawn and feel that elusive fall-tinged breeze renew my spirit. 

And I'll continue to rejoice and be glad in it. 

Does your running ritual satisfy more than your need to complete a training plan or weekly mileage quota? Leave a message with your story!

Monday, August 13, 2012

13 August 2012: A 'Bitchin' Poutine for the Rungry Crowd

Because sometimes a dish comes along that's just too good to resist...

Hello, world. It’s been a while. I’m not keeping my New Year’s Resolutions like I should. Except for that 19:17 5k I ran. That’s gotta count for something.

Anyhow, another busy summer breaks through the halfway mark. I had eye surgery (not fun) and have been training again with the Runner’s World Challenge (fun) to take another crack at a BQ at the Marine Corps Marathon in October (OORAH).

I’ve been really trying to reinforce good eating habits this time around. About 90% of what I eat comes from my kitchen. Partly because I adore cooking to the sounds of NPR, but also because it’s so much better for Victor and me.

I like to do a big batch of something on Sunday, so that we have nutritious food for the week. I typically tailor one key dish to the kind of training week we have. In the beginning, it’s lighter fare, but as we get into what the Challenge calls, “Monster Month” I do heartier  - but still healthy and balanced - dishes.

I’ve realized, though, that as much as I cook, I should really be keeping tallies of what works and didn’t work, since I like to adapt recipes for runner’s needs. 


Over the coming weeks, I'll be sharing my recipes for the curious folks among us. If you have ideas, feel free to post them in the comments!

Here’s the first go of it for this training season...

There’s a show on the Cooking Channel called Bitchin Kitchen that I’ve been watching a lot for the past year or so. The host, Nadia G combines snarky sketch comedy, killer shoes and some crazy good recipes. It’s a winning combination.

The other week, we saw a recipe she prescribed for hangover cures:  Sweet Potato Poutine. My mind was blown. My husband was salivating. We needed this. Now.

Only problem? It was wrong for runners in all the ways it was right for hangovers.

Undeterred, I adapted to suit. I baked the sweet potatoes (which are a super starch source) to save on fat, made the gravy the way I like to, and used Monterrey Jack cheese pieces instead of curds (because that’s what I had in my fridge). But still, credit where it’s due... this is a Bitchin recipe. Here’s how it worked...

For the oven fries:

  • 2 sweet potatoes, cut into ¼ inch fries
  • a couple tablespoons of olive oil
  • 1 tsp paprika
  • 1 tsp cayenne (optional if you’re sensitive)
  • kosher salt
  • black pepper

Preheat oven to 375F. Cut sweet potatoes and let soak for at least 30 minutes. Drain and lay them out on a kitchen towel and dry thoroughly.

In the bottom of a large bowl, combine oil, paprika, cayenne, and salt and pepper to taste. The mixture should form a paste-like consistency when combined. Toss potatoes in the mixture, adding oil and more spice as needed (the amount will vary depending on the quantity of potatoes you use and your own personal taste). Each piece should be thoroughly coated.

Place potatoes on baking sheets, being careful to allow for space between each piece. Bake until golden brown on each side, checking in 15-minute increments and rotating trays as needed for even cooking. Fries are done when they are tender inside and crisp on the outside.

For the gravy:

  • 2 tbsp butter
  • 2 tbsp flour
  • 2 cups chicken stock
  • 2 tbsp mustard
  • Worcestershire sauce
  • Sherry (NOT cooking sherry. The stuff that posh folks drink in the drawing room after dinner.)
  • salt and pepper to taste
  • cayenne if you like

Melt butter on medium-low heat and add flour, stirring constantly to combine into a uniform consistency (I like to use a wooden spoon, but if your pan allows a whisk, go for it). When the mixture is golden brown (in 2-5 minutes depending on your pan), reduce heat to low and gently stir in chicken stock. Bring heat to a simmer on medium and allow to reduce, stirring frequently to ensure that all the lumps are out.

When the mixture has reduced by a quarter, add mustard, cayenne, Worcestershire sauce, salt, and pepper to taste. Allow to simmer for another 10-15 minutes.

When the mixture is thick enough that you can drag your finger across a coated wooden spoon and the line doesn’t immediately fill back in with liquid, add a few tablespoons of sherry and allow to simmer on low for 5 more minutes.

When the fries are done, place them onto an eating receptacle, cover in gravy and smatter 
some pieces of cheese (or curds!) and enjoy. But pace yourself and be sure to actually taste it. 

We recommend good beer with it. Like splitting a bomber bottle of DuClaw Black Lightning (a black American Pale Ale from Maryland). Yum.

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Run on Sentences: 5 April 2012


In which the author rambles about obsession and losing her Garmin in the river...

Oh, hello, blog. It’s been a long time. Sorry to neglect you. I was busy training for my latest marathon, getting into grad school and doing a bunch of things that I can’t even remember (like everything - save the run - that happened this week).

I’ve also been suffering from allergies. Running helped me get off my prescription for dog, cat and every-pollen-under-the-sun allergies, but NOTHING can save us from the very unpleasing sneezing and wheezing that is Spring 2012. I’ve managed to deal with the flowering trees (my kryptonite) better than I had originally thought, but yesterday morning I couldn’t stop itching on my 6 miles with 6 strides. By mile 2, I was scratching so much that it looked like I had been attacked by a colony of junkyard cats.  By mile 3, my face was swollen and covered with a disgusting concoction of mucus and tears.

Gorgeous visual, right?

After the turnaround on Harrisburg’s Market Street Bridge, even my watch band was causing disrupting itching. So, being the genius I am, I decided it was a great idea to loosen my watch band and scratch underneath of it. With sweaty, slippery hands. On a bridge. With wind. Genius.

I got the strap of my Forerunner 210 lose and dug my stubby, navy blue nails underneath and finally got a bit of relief...

And then it fell. It happened in slow motion. I shrieked. A cyclist passed me with a quizzical face. The Garmin fell and fell. The wind caught it and it bounced...

In those seconds, my entire running life flashed before me. All of my running memories would be lost to Davy Jones’ locker! Don’t I hate my Garmin? Don’t I threaten to throw it in the river on mornings when it takes 10 minutes to sync? What about those fantasies of a running chip implanted in my brain to measure my stats? But how would I measure splits? How would I know my distances? How would I remember to put right in front of left? Would I still be a runner? Will my existence as a human be validated without statistics of every single step? HOW WOULD I GO ON WITHOUT MY GARMIN?

Mercifully, it stopped about an inch and a half short of being a swimming watch. I bent down, shaking, and attempted to steady my hand to put it back on my wrist. This time, I put it a bit looser to leave room for scratching space. It took about a quarter mile before my palpitations stopped.

I had a revelation in the wake of almost losing that terrible, wonderful piece of rubber and computer:  I’m obsessed with stats, but I hate them. I resent that since I missed Boston by just over a minute and a half, I’ve been engrossed with every split, trying to get faster and faster. I don’t always live and die by my times, but numbers push me to work harder and harder at it. 95 seconds is all I need and each well-documented (if not undependable) split I clock puts me a bit closer to Beantown.

I know I’m not alone in this sentiment. We’re all inextricably tied to our watches. It’s a sense of pride when it goes well. It’s a motivating sense of shame when it goes poorly. It’s probably a pretty terrible vice in the scheme of running... but in the scheme of life, I guess it’s not so bad.

And hey, at least I’m not one of those obnoxious Pittsburgh Pirates fans who paints their nails yellow for opening day... oh wait... LET’S GO BUCS!

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Run on Sentences: 17 January 2012

In which the author shares a recipe for turkey pot pie... Or, "Will run for food."

Fact:  Some runs are harder than others. We’ve all had those days were the miles clip off with little effort. Last Sunday’s was not one of those days. What was to be a nice 14mi LSD (that’s a long, slow distance run in Runner’s World nomenclature) turned into a battle to finish. Not even the adorable 12-week old English Bulldog called Lulu could make it totally bearable. 


Now, I’m no weather girl, but any runner learns how to dress for certain conditions. The temp was 46F with 10mph winds and partial cloud cover. Right. About 100m into the first bridge of the course, I nearly lost my hat... and, more importantly, my breath. The headwind felt like a constant, swirling gust of shards of glass slicing through my lungs and chest. No matter where I turned, the wind seemed to morph into a wall intent on slowing me down. 


With each laborious breath came increased pain in my chest, I cut my run a mile short (taking the rest nice and easy until my heart rate finally recovered). I met my husband at the YMCA to stretch and do weights and learned that he also had problems with the conditions. We were cold and tired and needed some serious comfort food. My husband - albeit sheepishly due to my fatigue - mentioned doing a pot pie. Sold.


No, we didn't eat it straight from the pan. But that was mostly out of respect for Le Creuset.
Typically, I refuse to buy pie crust or puff pastry (unless I’m in a serious bind). There’s something so fun about getting into a big bowl of butter and flour and working it together just like my French ancestors did. It’s a soothing, methodical and incredibly satisfying technique that’s been passed down from generation to generation. I would hate to swap out its simplicity for some expensive packet of preservative-filled concoction. 


I like to flavor my dough when possible, so I used some powdered mustard and sharp cheddar to compliment the leftover Thanksgiving turkey and gravy we froze and used for this. It’s a flexible recipe (the cheese and herb/spice idea came from this Epicurious gem), and I’ve had great luck with a number of sweet and savory additions. I loaded this up with veggies and - to my husband’s joy - saved half of the crust for another pot pie.


Crust:
2 sticks cold butter, cut into small cubes
2 ½ cups AP flour
6+ tablespoons ice water (median figure - how much you use depends on the day)
2 teaspoons dry mustard
½ teaspoon salt (I like sea or kosher salt; you may elect to add more depending on your palate and the sharpness of the cheese)
6 good cranks of black pepper (optional)
Butter, butter spray or egg wash for top

Using the coldest butter that you can work with, mix the butter and flour into a food processor or large bowl. If using a food processor, blitz the mixture until uniform bits form in a coarse sand/ small pea-sized consistency. If using hands (the way I learned), work quickly and with cold hands to rub the butter into the flour until the aforementioned mixture forms. You’ll likely have to toss the mixture intermittently to ensure that there aren’t big clumps. Pastry cutters also work well for this process. In all cases, add ice water - tablespoon by tablespoon - and mix until a dough forms. Form into a ball, wrap in plastic and refrigerate for at least a half an hour.

Since I only needed a top crust, I wrapped half in plastic and froze it to use later.


Filling:

About a pound of turkey (I had a packet of leftovers from Thanksgiving that I defrosted)
2 cups peas (I used frozen)
2 cups carrots, diced or cut into pieces approximately the size of peas (I had leftover baby carrots)
1 clove minced garlic
Mustard
White wine
Worcester sauce
Sage
Rosemary
Thyme
Black pepper
Salt
Flour
Chop carrots and turkey into pieces slightly larger than the vegetables. Set aside in separate bowls.
Preheat over to 375F.


Saute carrots in a cup of white wine until they become slightly soft. Add mustard, black pepper and any spices you like to taste. Simmer for 5 minutes. (You can pull the carrots at this point if it’s easier to work with just the liquid for the time being.) If you have any leftover turkey gravy in the freezer like I did, add 2-3 tablespoons to add richness and flavor (a small knob of butter might also work) and melt into mixture. Sprinkle 2-3 tablespoons of flour into pan, stirring constantly, allowing the sauce to thicken. Add peas (and carrots if you removed them) and turkey to pan. Allow to simmer, adding a few dashes of Worcester sauce, salt and/or other flavors to taste, if desired. Transfer mixture to pan.
While the mixture is simmering, remove dough from refrigerator and roll out to the size of the pie pan. When mixture is completed and added to pan, carefully place the crust atop the pan, cutting off excess dough from sides (it is not necessary to pinch the corners, as there is no bottom crust). Cut small venting holes into crust and brush egg wash, butter or apply butter spray to the top of the crust.
Place pie pan onto a sheet pan and bake for 25 minutes. If desired, raise heat to 400F for additional time to further brown crust. 


After removing, allow to stand for at least 10 minutes. Then, grab a spoon and enjoy (in moderation)!