By the pot or the gallon, her stew satisfies

Hannah Logue has trouble making just one loaf of bread or a small batch of stew; it never seems to come out quite right. That's because the 63-year-old Dorchester resident is more accustomed to baking her raisin-studded bread 16 loaves at a time and preparing stew by the gallon.

As the longtime rectory cook at St. Brendan's Church, which sits nearly catty-corner to Logue's big, green two-family house, she learned the joys of cooking large. Now retired, she still enjoys cooking for a crowd: her husband, four grown daughters, eight grandchildren, and any members of the extended family who might happen by.

Even the most casual visitor to Logue's home would have no trouble guessing she has Irish roots. Waterford crystal and Belleek china are proudly displayed; the dining room table is covered with a shamrock-patterned cloth. And although Logue has been in this country since 1958, she retains her brogue and her connection to the place she still refers to as home.

The oldest of 12 children, she was raised on a farm near Donegal and sent to the States as soon as she was deemed old enough; she was expected to get a job to help support the family. ''I was 16 the day I left home," she said as she prepared a batch of Irish stew in her tidy, comfortable kitchen. Although she'd had some classes in school, her training as a cook really began when she went to work for the Columban Fathers in Milton.

''I was the second cook -- peeling vegetables, washing pots," she recalls. ''The lady who was there, in charge, was a very good cook." Under her tutelage, preparing food day in and day out for the 25 priests and 60 seminarians, Logue grew accomplished. After four years, she returned briefly to Ireland to get married (her husband, Patrick, also hails from Donegal), then returned to Boston, eventually settling in the Cedar Grove section of Dorchester.

After her four daughters came along, she took the job at St. Brendan's to be closer to home and remained there for 20 years, honing her skills, turning out simple, hearty food before retiring in 2000.

As Logue bustles around her kitchen, she displays the sure touch of an experienced cook, never measuring an ingredient or using a timer. The flexible, forgiving stew recipe can be adjusted to taste, she stresses; add more celery or fewer carrots, or omit the onions, if you like.

The secret ingredient in the stew is a surprising one: a can of Campbell's chicken and rice soup. She admits that when an American acquaintance first suggested it, she was skeptical. But she tried it and liked the rich flavor it added. In the finished stew, it's nearly undetectable -- it cooks so long that the rice just about dissolves -- but there's no arguing that the dish, with its tender beef and plentiful vegetables, is soul-warming and satisfying, perfect for a cold day in March.

Logue's husband has offered to update the kitchen, which doesn't have a dishwasher (she considers that appliance ''wasted space"). She pooh-poohs the idea, preferring to spend the money on travel. Besides, she says, she doesn't consider the kitchen the most important room in the house. When she and her husband purchased this home, back in 1971, ''it was the dining room that sold me," she says.

In the generously proportioned room, it's not unusual for her to host 12 or 14 at the large table. With typically gracious understatement, she says, ''I like to have company."