From the June, 2005 Gourmet

Several weeks ago I purchased a bottle of dry Marsala wine in order to make this recipe for sautéed mushrooms. The resulting dish was a wonderful early autumn treat, but I have to confess that the real source of excitement for me was cooking with the wine I’d bought for the occasion—an ingredient I’d never worked with before. That may sound like an odd confession, especially when I tell you that at least a few times a month I order chicken Marsala from our local Italian restaurant (a delivery staple for those nights when I don’t have the time/desire/energy to cook). I’m a big fan of this classic Italian-American chicken dish, largely because of the way the wine coats the meat with a rich tangy sauce, but also because of the seductive caramel color it delivers—so much so that if I see it on a menu it tends to eliminate the possibility of ordering anything else. How could it be that the dish’s signature ingredient—and one that’s so readily available—is one I’d never cooked with before? It’s a question I’m still pondering. Still, having finally cracked open the proverbial bottle, I realized there was now nothing to stop me from attempting my own, homemade version of this favorite dish.

And so almost as soon as I’d washed the utensils associated with my earlier mushroom cooking exercise, I went in search of a chicken Marsala recipe, which would deliver all the things I love best about the preparation—namely tender chicken, flavor-packed mushrooms, and, of course, that dark, zesty sauce. As it turns out, I wouldn’t have to look far, since my own rather large (and largely untested) collection of recipe clippings included one from the June, 2005 issue of Gourmet for the very dish I was after. Given the recipe’s provenance—as I’ve said here before, there are few resources in which I have more faith than the Ruth Reichl era of Gourmet—I had little doubt that this version would hit all of the desired high notes.

That said, there was one ingredient in the recipe that didn’t seem to align with my vision for the ultimate chicken Marsala: cream—2/3 of a cup, to be exact, which is added to the sauce in the final minutes of preparation. Still, such has been my satisfaction with most anything I’ve prepared from the magazine that I figured it was worth a try. And so I got down to work, sautéing a few tablespoons of finely chopped shallots in three tablespoons of butter (most chicken Marsala recipes call for onion; I like the sweeter flavor of the shallot here), then adding the mushrooms, the sage, and a little salt and pepper. After eight minutes or so, or once all the liquid had dissipated and the mushrooms had begun to brown, I removed the pan from the heat and set it aside—taking a few moments, of course, to savor the swoon-worthy scent overtaking the kitchen, as there are few things more enticing than the smell of onions cooked in butter.

Next I prepared the chicken, pounding the four boneless, skinless chicken breasts between sheets of plastic wrap until each was about ¼” thick (despite my impulse to do this by placing all four breasts between two very large sheets of plastic, I learned the hard way that it’s better to pound each breast individually, between its own two sheets of plastic—not as “green” perhaps, but definitely more efficient). Just be sure to proceed gently as you don’t want the chicken to tear—a development that can make the next steps (patting the chicken dry, seasoning it with salt and pepper, dredging each cutlet in a cup of flour) a more delicate, and therefore time-consuming, process than it needs to be.

Once the chicken had been prepped it was time to move on to the actual cooking—a simple enough process that required nothing more than frying the cutlets (two at a time) in a tablespoon each of olive oil and butter for a total of four minutes, then transferring the chicken to a heat-proof platter and a 200˚ oven to keep warm. All that remained now was the making of the sauce, though as any true chicken Marsala appreciator can tell you, it’s the sauce that’s the most important component. Here it’s produced by bringing a ½ cup of Marsala wine to a boil, stirring it for about 30 seconds, then adding ¾ cup of previously reduced chicken broth (start with 1¾ cup and boil this down to ¾ cup, a process shat should take about 15 to 20 minutes, though you’ll want to check often), the heavy cream, and the mushrooms, and simmer for between 6 and 8 minutes, until the sauce is thickened. Alternately, if you’re not a fan of the cream here (I liked it but can also imagine wanting a cream-free variety on occasion), simply omit this ingredient and in the final minutes—after adding a teaspoon of lemon juice, 2 more tablespoons of wine, and a ½ teaspoon of sage—remove the pan from the heat and stir in two tablespoons of butter, just to ensure a silky consistency to the sauce. Pour this intoxicating mixture over the cutlets, and serve.

The traditional way to enjoy this dish is alongside a mound of spaghetti, and while I’ll be the first to acknowledge the undeniable appeal of this combination, if you’re trying to limit your starch intake (as I am) a healthier and equally appealing accompaniment is sautéed spinach or broccoli rabe. Either way, there’s something about the rich, silken sauce paired with the chicken here that makes this one of those rare, standout combinations: a decadent dish that’s still relatively healthy, not to mention easy enough to prepare for a weeknight dinner. What’s more, the dish has a kind of celebratory, special-occasion quality, and who doesn’t need a little of that in the middle of the week?

On a separate note, I wanted to mention that, unfortunately, I will again have to take a hiatus next week from my weekly posting schedule—this time because we’re moving and as much as I’d prefer to be brining pickles or making a rabbit stew or some such, I’ll be packing boxes (yay). I’ll try to bring you something tantalizing the week of October 28th to make up for my absence. In the meantime, be well everyone!

Ingredients:
—1¾ cups reduced-sodium chicken broth, divided
—2 tbs finely chopped shallot
—5 tbs unsalted butter, divided
—10 oz mushrooms, trimmed and thinly sliced (TRG note: I recommend good old white button mushrooms here)
—1½ tsp finely chopped fresh sage, divided
—1/4 tsp salt
—1/8 tsp black pepper
—1 cup all-purpose flour
—4 skinless, boneless chicken breast halves (about 2 lbs total)
—2 tbs extra-virgin olive oil
—1/2 cup plus 2 tbs dry Marsala wine, divided
—2/3 cup heavy cream (TRG note: Treat this as optional; if you prefer a less creamy sauce, omit, or substitute with a few tablespoons unsalted butter)
—1 tsp fresh lemon juice

Directions:
—Put rack in middle position and preheat oven to 200˚.
—Bring broth to a boil in a 2-qt. saucepan over high heat, then boil, uncovered, until reduced to about ¾ cup, about 20 minutes (TRG note: I found this takes much less time, so start checking at around 10 minutes). Set aside.
—Cook shallot in 3 tbs of the butter in an 8- to 10-inch heavy skillet over moderate heat, stirring, until shallot begins to turn golden, about 1 minute.
—Add mushrooms, 1 tsp of the sage, salt, and pepper and cook, stirring occasionally, until liquid mushrooms give off is evaporated and mushrooms begin to brown, 6 to 8 minutes. Remove from heat.
—Put flour in a wide, shallow bowl. Gently pound chicken to ¼-inch thick between 2 sheets of plastic wrap using the flat side of a meat pounder or a rolling pin.
—Pat chicken dry and season with salt and pepper, then dredge in flour, 1 piece at a time, shaking off excess. Transfer chicken to sheets of wax paper, arranging chicken in 1 layer.
—Heat 1 tbs each of oil and butter in a 10-inch heavy skillet over moderately high heat until foam subsides, then sauté half of chicken, turning once, until golden and just cooked through, about 4 minutes total. Transfer cooked chicken to a large, heatproof platter, arranging in 1 layer, then place platter in oven to keep warm. Wipe out skillet with paper towels and cook remaining chicken in same manner, then transfer to oven, arranging in 1 layer.
—Add ½ cup of the wine to skillet and boil over high heat, stirring and scraping up brown bits, about 30 seconds. Add reduced broth, cream, and mushrooms, then simmer, stirring occasionally, until sauce is slightly thickened, 6 to 8 minutes. Add lemon juice and remaining 2 tbs wine and ½ tsp sage. (TRG note: If you prefer your sauce to be less creamy, simply omit the cream, if you like adding two tablespoons of butter off heat, after the lemon juice, wine, and sage have been incorporated.)
—Serve chicken with the sauce.

Serves 4 (or two who eat like Alfredo and me)

The post 10/18/13 • CHICKEN MARSALA appeared first on THE RECIPE GRINDER.

Adapted from the May, 2013 Bon Appétit

Have you noticed how some of the cooking magazines have a page or two each month devoted to reader requests for favorite restaurant dishes? Well this is the spot where I would have included one of those myself, except that the recipe I’ve been wanting to bring to you, or more precisely the restaurant associated with it, is not the sort that believes in sharing. I know this because on repeated occasions I’ve asked whether they (“they” being a little waterside operation on the vacation island of St. Bart’s) would be willing to pass along their recipe for Asian chicken salad, and each time my request has been met with a steely “no.” Given the tenor of their response and the fact that their portions are small and their prices are high, you might wonder why I continue to frequent this particular establishment. The answer, of course, is because I like the food… a lot—especially their coconut tart and the aforementioned chicken salad. And so each time I’ve visited the restaurant over the years I order both (if they’re on the menu) in the hopes that I’ll be able to break down the various components sufficiently to recreate the dishes myself at home, something I have so far been unable to accomplish.

But recently I was thrown a lifeline, in the form of this recipe for Asian chicken and cabbage salad, which I found in the May issue of Bon Appétit. While the dish is not an exact match to the restaurant version I love (for one thing it features red cabbage instead of white), it offers enough of those components that have kept me coming back for more—namely the tang of citrus and vinegar, the subtle heat of a finely diced pepper, the crunch of peanuts and sliced cabbage, and the mild sweetness of roast chicken—to be a reasonable facsimile. In fact, I’m not sure I don’t like this version even more, in part because it also includes a number of ingredients I’ve never noticed in the other, such as baby spinach, cilantro, and a small amount of fresh ginger, all terrific additions to this flavor-packed combo.

I also love how easy it is to assemble, though that probably comes as no surprise since this is a chicken salad we’re talking about and not—I don’t know—a soufflé or something more elaborate. You begin with the dressing, which consists of the chile (either a jalapeño or Fresno variety) and the ginger, some olive oil, the lime juice, and a small amount of soy sauce, brown sugar, and fish sauce, all of it whisked together in a large serving bowl until emulsified. Next you add 3 cups of shredded chicken (pulled from a rotisserie chicken to make your life even easier, though as the recipe points out leftover shrimp or sliced pork would also be great), along with the various vegetables—specifically, half of a small head of red cabbage (sliced), two shredded carrots, a handful of chopped scallions, a cup of slivered spinach, and 1/3 cup chopped fresh cilantro. In other words, all healthy stuff (okay, maybe not the brown sugar but there’s only a little) and taken together, seriously delicious!

As for those peanuts, these—along with some toasted sesame seeds—are sprinkled across the surface of each serving, providing a little visual interest, not to mention more of that all-important crunch. So clearly, there’s no shortage of things to love here. But perhaps best of all is the fact that unlike those tiny appetizer portions served up at the restaurant in St. Bart’s, if you make it at home you can eat all you want. In other words, forget treating this salad as a warm-up act and elevate it to entrée status. I can’t think of a better, more satisfying meal for a hot summer night.

Ingredients:
—1 red japapeño or Fresno chile with some seeds, chopped (Note: for a touch more heat, try adding a dash or two Sriracha, the Asian hot sauce made from ground chiles and garlic)
—1/3 cup vegetable oil
—1/4 cup fresh lime juice (or more if you prefer a bit more tang; I actually doubled the lime juice but taste as you go)
—2 tbs reduced-sodium soy sauce
—2 tsp light brown sugar
—1 tsp fish sauce (such as nam pla or nuoc nam)
—1 tsp grated peeled ginger
—Kosher salt
—1/2 small head of red cabbage, thinly sliced (about 5 cups)
—2 medium carrots, peeled, shredded
—6 scallions, whites and pale greens only, thinly sliced
—3 cups shredded rotisserie chicken
—1 cup baby spinach, thinly sliced
—1/3 cup chopped fresh cilantro
—1/4 cup chopped dry-roasted peanuts
—1/2 tsp toasted sesame seeds (Note: for a touch more sesame flavor, try adding a few dashes of toasted sesame oil to each serving)

Directions:
—Whisk chile, oil, lime juice, soy sauce, brown sugar fish sauce, and ginger in a large bowl; season with salt.
—Add cabbage, carrots, scallions, chicken, spinach, and cilantro; toss to coat.
—Top with peanuts and sesame seeds and serve.

4 servings

The post 07/11/13 • ASIAN CHICKEN SALAD appeared first on THE RECIPE GRINDER.

From the June/July, 2013 Fine Cooking

There’s nothing like the anticipation of big events in your life (and the arrival of your 5^th decade!) to spur change, which I suppose explains why Alfredo and I have recently made some alterations to our way of doing things—specifically in the realm of food. This isn’t the first time we’ve made such tweaks but it is the only occasion I can remember where the goal was less about looking good then it was about feeling better and having more energy (though needless to say, we’ll happily take the former should that present itself as a by-product). Alfredo was the first out of the gate on this one, and after meeting with a doctor in early April he went on a two-week detox program. Once that step was complete he eliminated all processed foods from his diet, focusing instead on lean proteins and lots of fruits and vegetables. The results have been pretty astonishing: in just under two months he’s dropped 25 pounds of fat, without losing any muscle mass. Naturally he feels better not carrying all that extra weight around, but his energy has also increased exponentially, which means he now bounds out of bed before the alarm goes off at 6:00 am (annoying to me as there is no bounding happening in my day before 11:00 am and several large cups of coffee). I know he misses things like bread and crackers and pizza (this most of all) but at least for now, the plusses so far outweigh the minuses that he’s sticking to the program with virtually no complaint. In other words, up to this point it’s been pretty easy for him.

As for me, the issue is not about losing weight but rather about increasing my energy, something I’ve felt I needed to address for a while now. Aside from the fact that I’m not a morning person (that will probably never change), on many weekday afternoons I find myself struggling to stay awake as I stare into my computer screen. Granted, I’m not getting my full eight hours of sleep every night (more like six) but that shouldn’t require an emergency espresso to get me through the second half of the day. And so I too have launched into the world of detox and, at least for the next 10 days, have sworn off sugar and carbohydrates. It’s only been a day but I have to say I feel pretty awful. I’ve always thought of myself as someone who ate healthfully (if not maniacally so), but the elimination of those three packets of sugar from my morning coffee, and that slice or two of bread from alongside my lunchtime salad, seems to have created both a psychological absence for me, as well as a physiological one. I need a sugar fix, bad! Maybe day two will be easier…

In any case, before I even launched into my own self-improvement program, the changes in Alfredo’s eating habits had prompted me to look out for dishes he’d actually eat (not that I plan to eliminate desserts or pasta or anything involving flour from this blog—where would the joy be in that?). Still, in these early days of his diet I didn’t want to torture him with the likes of brown butter financiers or an Asian noodle salad with roasted peanuts, so I put my sugar/flour blinders on and zeroed in on this recipe for pan-fried chicken breasts with a tomato and basil salad, from the current issue of Fine Cooking. And having now made it a couple of times I’m happy to report that despite my love affair with processed foods (and by that I don’t mean potato chips, but rather things like fresh bread and maple syrup) I’d happily eat this dish any night of the week—especially a summer night, when the bright flavors featured here are particularly well-suited. Then again, given the number of chicken and tomato recipes I’ve posted on this site over the past few years that probably comes as no surprise. We all have particular flavor combinations we’re drawn to, and I guess chicken and tomatoes is one of those for me.

Of course, it’s no secret that I also have a weakness for the acidic side of the food spectrum—something this dish offers as well, thanks to the presence of 2½ tablespoons of balsamic vinegar in the tomato mixture. The vinegar, plus a ¼ cup of thinly sliced basil leaves, a generous glug of olive oil, and some salt, pepper, and finely chopped garlic is all it takes to give this component of the dish a bright summery quality. As such, it’s the perfect counterpoint to the salty, slightly caramelized exterior of the cutlets, and the peppery arugula its sits atop. That said, you may want to tinker with the garlic quantity as on occasion I’ve found the single clove called for by the recipe to be over-powering (though admittedly I may have been working with an exceptionally strong clove).

As for the chicken breasts, these are sliced in half horizontally almost all the way through, so you can open the two halves like a book. Once pounded thin with a meat mallet or a heavy pan (sandwich the breasts between two sheets of plastic wrap so the pounding doesn’t damage the meat) the chicken can be lightly salted and peppered, and then introduced into a skillet with a little hot oil. Working with two breasts at a time, cook the chicken until golden brown (between 2 and 3 minutes), then flip and cook the other side for 30 seconds more. Repeat with the remaining two breasts, keeping the first two warm in a low oven. Once all the chicken has been cooked, place each breast on a plate containing a portion of the arugula, then top generously with the tomatoes and accompanying juices. That’s all there is to it, so not only is this a healthy dinner, it’s one that can be assembled in little more than half an hour.

The other nice thing is that the tomato and arugula treatment lends itself to a variety of other pairings as well, most notably sliced steak. That said the tomato mixture tends not to be great the next day (tomatoes don’t do well in the fridge, unfortunately) which means leftovers aren’t nearly the treat you hope they’ll be. Then again, it’s an issue you’re unlikely to face, since in my experience the only thing remaining at meal’s end is a lot of empty plates.

Ingredients:
—1 lb ripe plum tomatoes (about 5 medium), seeded and cut into ½-inch dice
—1/4 cup packed fresh basil leaves, thinly sliced
—5 tbs extra-virgin olive oil
—2½ tbs balsamic vinegar
—1 medium clove garlic, finely chopped
—Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper
—4 boneless, skinless chicken breast halves (about 2 lbs)
—4 oz (4 loosely packed cups) baby arugula

Directions:
—Position a rack in the center of the oven and heat the oven to 200˚.
—In a medium bowl, combine the tomatoes, basil, 3 tbs of the oil, the vinegar, garlic, ¼ tsp salt, and 1/8 tsp pepper.
—Butterfly each chicken breast by slicing it horizontally almost but not entirely in half so you can open it like a book. Open and pound each breast between two pieces of plastic wrap with a meat mallet or the bottom of a heavy pan until ¼ inch thick.
—Pat the chicken dry and season lightly with salt and pepper. Heat 1 tbs of the remaining oil in a 12-inch skillet over medium-high heat until shimmering. Cook two of the breasts until golden brown on one side, 2 to 3 minutes. Flip and continue to cook until just cooked through, about 30 seconds more. Transfer to a rimmed baking sheet and keep warm in the oven. Repeat with the remaining 1 tbs oil and chicken.
—Divide the arugula among 4 dinner plates. Set the chicken on top, spoon a generous amount of the tomato mixture and its juice over all.

Serves 4

The post 05/28/13 • CHICKEN CUTLETS WITH TOMATOES appeared first on THE RECIPE GRINDER.

Adapted from the Sept., 2005 Gourmet

It felt like something special was in order for this, my 100th posting, and as luck would have it, the date aligned with another important milestone: the fortieth birthday of our good friend Dennis. I’ve mentioned Dennis often over the past few years, both because Alfredo and I spend so much of our time with him, and because he’s my partner-in-crime in so many food-related adventures (even though he hates olives). And so an idea was hatched—to throw Dennis a birthday dinner that would also celebrate this key moment in TRG’s life. The question was what to cook, since the 15 or so assembled guests were to include two vegetarians (who also can’t abide onions, tomatoes, or anything in the nightshade family), one individual who tries to maintain a gluten-free diet, another who hates cheese, and Dennis, who gets squeamish around seafood. In other words, this was not going to be an easy menu to assemble. For a few days there I was completely stumped.

I should also mention that when it comes to planning a menu I aim for some kind of loose logic to the meal that will tie everything together—be it a region, a season, a holiday, what have you. Even if it’s an organizing principle that’s only apparent to me, it helps in my ability to put something together that feels balanced, so it wasn’t going to work for me to just throw a bunch of things on the table and call it dinner. But I had to start somewhere, and that starting point was presented by the two elements I was certain of: the appetizer (though I ended up adding a second one), and dessert. For the former I’d identified deviled eggs, simply because they always seem to make everyone happy, and because they embody springtime; and for the latter, the chocolate cake with vanilla icing from Billy’s Bakery, because it’s decadent and infantile—everything you could wish for from a birthday cake. With those two cornerstones in place I was able to construct a meal with a southern/soul food vibe. What’s more, it was a meal with enough elements that everyone would find something they could eat… but not with so many parts I wouldn’t be able to knock it out in a day.

Here’s the menu I came up with:

Appetizers
—Deviled eggs
—Pimiento cheese spread

Main event
—Garlicky fried chicken
—Macaroni and cheese
—Collard greens
—Tomato and cucumber salad with buttermilk dressing

Dessert
—Chocolate cake with vanilla icing

With two exceptions, links to the recipes for all of these items (including the two previously featured on this site) are attached above and are identifiable by their red type-face. Not included are the recipes for the cake and the fried chicken, as the cake was purchased, and the fried chicken is the featured recipe for this posting and so follows my standard format (link at the top of the page and the typed recipe at end). Phew! Have I put you to sleep with all that information?!

Well wake up, because this recipe is definitely worth adding to your arsenal! And, as someone who had never fried chicken before, it’s also a good deal faster and less messy than I would have guessed. In fact, other than the chicken taking longer to cook than the recipe indicated it would (almost double the time, as I was working with very large breasts), I racked up the most minutes during the early stages of the recipe—while making the marinade and cutting my pile of chicken breasts in half to allow for a more manageable size (something you won’t have to worry about if using smaller breasts or other chicken parts).

The marinade itself features a large quantity of onions, garlic, salt, pepper, and water, and although these elements imbue the chicken with a subtle zip, their more critical function is as a brining liquid, ensuring the meat stays juicy once cooked. In other words, if onions and garlic aren’t your thing, don’t be put off by their presence here; you’ll barely notice them in the finished product. Of course, you will need to factor in some time for the marinade to do its work—twelve hours at a minimum, or as much as a full day. So clear space in the fridge, and begin marinating the chicken the night before you start cooking.

Once you’re ready to tackle the frying, the chicken can be removed from the marinade, dredged through a mixture of flour, salt (just a little this time), and black pepper and left to sit for twenty minutes or so, before being introduced to the hot oil. And by “hot” the recipe stipulates a temperature of 365˚, so you’ll want to have a candy- or deep-fat thermometer clipped to your pot so you can pounce at just the right moment. (The oil—enough to fill the bottom two inches of your pot—will take little more than 10 minutes to reach the desired temperature, a process that speeds up the warmer the oil gets, so keep a close eye on things.) At this point it’s just a matter of gently placing the chicken in the pot and turning it a few times until it’s golden brown on the outside and cooked through on the inside (which, despite the original recipe’s instructions, can take as little as eight minutes, and as much as fifteen). Remove from the oil, let drain on a cooling rack placed over a paper-towel lined baking sheet, and enjoy—either warm or at room temperature.

It bears mentioning that unlike the skillet my mom used for frying chicken when I was a kid, a cast-iron pot (such as a Dutch oven) cuts down dramatically on the oil spatters, which means less post-frying clean-up. Even so, a little extra effort would not be out-of-line for chicken this good. And while a fried chicken dinner may not be something you want to make a weekly habit, for a special occasion (a birthday, a 100th posting, whatever) I can’t think of a meal with the power to make people smile more broadly—something I attribute to its very summery associations. The night of our dinner may have been chilly (too cold to eat outside for sure), but even so the evening felt like an enthusiastic waving-in of longer days and warmer nights. Like the opposite of a rain dance.

Here’s to the next 100 postings!

Ingredients:
—2 medium onions, chopped
—8 large garlic cloves, chopped
—1/3 cup plus 2 tsp salt
—2 tbs black pepper
—1 tbs cayenne
—8 cups water
—8 to 9 lbs chicken parts (breasts, drumsticks and/or thighs). Note: I used only breasts here, cutting each breast crosswise prior to marinating.
—10 cups all-purpose flour
—About 8 cups vegetable oil (one 64 fl oz bottle)

Special equipment:
—A wide 5- to 6-qt heavy pot (preferably cast-iron; 10-inches wide and 4 inches deep)
—A deep fat or candy thermometer

Directions for marinating the chicken:
—Purée onions and garlic with 1/3 cup salt, 1 tbs black pepper, cayenne, and 1 cup water in a food processor until smooth, then pour into a large bowl and stir in remaining 7 cups water.
—Divide chicken and marinade among 3 (1-gallon) sealable plastic bags, then seal, forcing out excess air. Place bags in a large bowl or pot in case of leaks.
—Marinate chicken, chilled, turning bags over a few times, for at least 12 hours, and up to 1 day.

Directions for dredging and frying chicken:
—Whisk together flour, remaining 2 tsp salt, and remaining tbs black pepper in a large bowl, then divide between 2 large roasting pans.
—Drain chicken in a colander, discarding marinade, then dredge each piece of chicken in the seasoned flower and leave sitting in flour. Let chicken stand 20 minutes.
—Line 2 large baking sheets with paper towels and set a cooling rack on each. Preheat oven to 250˚. (TRG note: The chicken is equally good served at room temperature, an option that allows you to bypass the oven-related portion of this recipe).
—Heat 2 inches oil in pot over moderately high heat until it registers 365˚ on thermometer. Knocking off excess flour, transfer 4 or so pieces of chicken to oil (keep batches all white meat or all dark) and fry, turning occasionally with tongs, until golden brown and cooked through, about 8 minutes for breasts and 10 to 12 minutes for drumsticks and thighs. (TRG note: I was working with particularly large breasts and found between 12 and 15 minutes were necessary to cook fully).
—Lift chicken from oil with tongs, letting excess oil drip back into pot, then transfer to a rack, and keep warm in oven, if desired. Fry remaining chicken in same manner, adding oil as needed and returning the temperature to 365˚ between batches.

Serves 12

TRG’s note on disposing of cooking oil:
As someone who very rarely fries food, on those random occasions when I do I invariably find myself confused about what to do with the used oil (clearly pouring it down the drain, even if you have a garbage disposer, is a really bad idea). Here are a few helpful tips.
—Let the oil cool completely.
—Pour the oil into a large can or re-sealable plastic juice container.
—Freeze it.
—Throw it away once hardened.
—Alternately, you can also reuse it by straining the cooled oil through cheesecloth, pouring into a sealable container, and storing it in a cool, dark place until needed.

The post 04/09/13 • GARLICKY FRIED CHICKEN (& 100th POSTING!) appeared first on THE RECIPE GRINDER.

Adapted from the Feb., 2013 Bon Appétit

Recently someone told me that if an expectant mother wants to ensure her child has an adventuresome palate, she must eat as broadly as possible during her pregnancy—the idea being that whatever she consumes is more likely to become imprinted in her unborn child’s consciousness, thereby increasing the chances that the food, the flavor, whatever, is one he or she will be willing to eat once they have a say in the matter. I doubt it’s quite that simple, though as this piece of kitchen-sink advice was relayed to me by a multiple mom, I accepted it at face value. Plus it makes sense. Part of the lore of my own childhood was that the reason I showed an early inclination for anything sour was that my mother consumed a lot of vinegar when she was pregnant with me. Who knows if there’s any truth to this theory—my instinct is that someone in the medical profession would have a more scientific explanation—but either way my obsession for all things sour has stayed with me, leading my palate towards anything with the promise of a little tang.

Which at least partially explains why this recipe for vinegar-braised chicken and onions got my attention when I saw it in last month’s Bon Appétit. (The rest of the reason can be attributed to the fact that it was created by the ladies behind Canal House—a seasonal cookbook series known for just the kind of hearty, unfussy cooking I’m perpetually drawn to.) The recipe is part of a larger piece that ran in the magazine on the merits of making—and cooking with—vinegar, and while I’m not quite ready to start fermenting wine in my kitchen, I’m always up for adding an acidic kick to my next meal.

I realize, of course, that’s not to everyone’s taste, but one of the appealing things about this recipe is that it combines equal parts tangy red wine vinegar and the sweeter balsamic variety, so the latter mellows the former to create a flavor that’s nicely balanced and not even remotely overpowering. What’s more, in combination with the chicken broth, the two types of vinegars manage to imbue the chicken with a beautiful brown luster—an almost mahogany color that penetrates an eighth of an inch or so into the flesh of the chicken, and that carries the bright vinegar flavor along with it. So it’s gorgeous and delicious.

In essence what this recipe provides is a riff on that classic of French cuisine, coq au vin, replacing the all-important wine with a fermented variety (making this… coq au vinegar?), and swapping out the carrots and mushrooms that are traditionally part of the dish for a ½ cup of golden raisins—an element that provides a nice counterpoint to the tang of the sauce, particularly as the fruit grows plump on the liquid during cooking. In fact, the Canal House ladies point out that braising chicken in vinegar and serving it with a handful of currants is a specialty of Lyon, so perhaps this is simply a regional variation on the French standard. In any case, the other difference here is that unlike coq au vin, this recipe does not call for flour as a thickening agent (after its 35 to 40 minute simmer in the company of the chicken parts, the sauce is thick enough), so it’s ideal for those looking to lower—or eliminate—their wheat intake.

Still, the dish’s principal selling point is its vibrant, mildly tangy flavor—a quality that’s not just due to the vinegar. For starters, there’s a ½ pound of diced and browned pancetta, which introduces a salty, rich component into the mix. And then there are the 2 pounds of boiled (and then browned) cipolline or pearl onions, which along with the raisins add a sweet note to the medley of flavors. It’s these elements, along with the chicken (seasoned with salt and pepper and browned for ten minutes or so, a step which ensures still more rich flavor) that provides the dish’s foundation, and which when mixed with the vinegar, the chicken broth, the bay leaves, a handful or crushed garlic cloves, and those raisins, makes for such a satisfying eating experience. Served over rice or egg noodles and you have the makings for a meal that’s bright, homey, and just a little decadent. In other words, you don’t have to be a vinegar nut like me to go crazy for this dish.

A few thoughts about ingredients: While the recipe calls for either cipolline or pearl onions, opt for cipolline if you can find them—they’re larger than their pearl siblings, and therefore easier (and speedier) to work with. Also, while it’s generally a good idea to use at least some dark meat when sautéing or braising chicken (darker meat is richer and therefore less likely to dry out during cooking), I opted to cook with breasts exclusively because I have a marked preference for the white variety. The good news is that thanks to the searing and the braising, the chicken retained much of its moisture, so feel free to use whatever parts you prefer. If you do use breasts as I did, however, be sure to cut them in half cross-wise (some people called this “French-style”) as it makes for easier serving and ensures everything is more uniform in size and therefore cooks evenly.

Ingredients:
—2 lbs cipolline or pearl onions
—Kosher salt
—3 tbs olive oil
—8 oz pancetta, cut into ¼” pieces
—4 garlic cloves, peeled, crushed
—5 lbs skin-on, bone-in, chicken pieces (breasts, thighs, and/or legs; breasts halved crosswise; TRG note: I worked with breasts exclusively)
—3/4 cup balsamic vinegar
—3/4 cup red wine vinegar
—2 cups low-sodium chicken broth
—1/2 cup golden raisins
—2 bay leaves

Directions:
—Cook onions in a large pot of boiling salted water until tender, 5 to 8 minutes. Drain and let cool. Trim root ends; peel.
—Meanwhile, heat oil in a large heavy pot over medium heat. Add pancetta to pot and cook, stirring occasionally, until fat is rendered and pancetta is brown, 8 to 10 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer pancetta to a large bowl.
—Add onions to same pot and cook, stirring occasionally, until beginning to brown, 8 to 10 minutes. Add garlic and cook, stirring often, until fragrant, about 3 minutes. Transfer onions and garlic to bowl with pancetta.
—Season chicken with salt and pepper. Working in batches, add chicken to pot skin side down and cook, turning, until browned on all sides, 10 to 15 minutes per batch; transfer to bowl with onions.
—Carefully drain fat from pot and return to medium-high heat. Add both vinegars to pot and bring to a boil, stirring and scraping up any browned bits from bottom of pot. Add broth, raisins, bay leaves, and reserved chicken, pancetta, onions, and garlic to pot. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer, partially covered, until chicken is fork-tender, 35 to 40 minutes.
—Using a slotted spoon, transfer chicken and onions to a large platter. Skim fat from cooking liquid and discard. Remove bay leaves, and season sauce with salt and pepper. Spoon sauce over chicken and onions.
—TRG note: Serve over rice or egg noodles to soak up the sauce.

Serves 6

The post 03/07/13 • VINEGAR-BRAISED CHICKEN appeared first on THE RECIPE GRINDER.

From the August, 2012 Bon Appetit (click here to view the recipe)

When the August issue of Bon Appetit arrived in my mailbox several months ago I did what I always do when one of the new cooking magazines arrives—I immediately ripped into it to see if there was anything that spoke to me. Usually this is a fast flip-through, followed by a more thorough examination when time allows. And if I’m lucky, the net result of those two combined searches will yield maybe one recipe that catches hold of my imagination and demands immediate attention in the kitchen. Let me repeat that: maybe one recipe. (The exception to this generalization was Ruth Reichl’s late-great Gourmet, which most months could be counted on to produce a half dozen or more recipes with each new issue—many of which I’m still making today.) I mention all this because that August issue of BA was the rare exception to this rule: an issue that produced not one, not two, but a multitude of recipes—all of which had me conjuring meals and plotting my return to the kitchen as soon as possible. I haven’t tackled them all yet (and probably won’t; there’s always some attrition here), but one that I have made—several times now, in fact—and which seems destined to become a TRG standard, is the recipe I bring to you here.

The recipe is for a seared, and then roasted chicken breast, accompanied by a juicy array of herb-roasted tomatoes. In other words, nothing that’s particularly elaborate or time-consuming. Those were two immediate selling points for me, since I’m often challenged by what to make for dinner at the end of a busy workday and frequently solve the problem by ordering in. Here, at last, was an alternative that I could make myself in about the same time it would take the delivery guy to find his way to my door. But perhaps even more enticing was the fact that the recipe calls into play a quantity of Worcestershire sauce and vinegar, and that the completed dish is sprinkled with a small amount of chopped tarragon, all flavors that I love, and in combination promised a zesty contrast to the mellow flavor of the white meat chicken (another favorite). And then there was the fact that the chicken was to be paired with several handfuls of cherry tomatoes, rendered saucy and bright by a quick turn in the oven. Here was a recipe with my name all over it.

Or perhaps it would be more accurate to call it a recipe with my name over both halves of it, since this is essentially a dish comprising two distinct parts—the chicken, and the tomatoes—elements that, though they may go exceptionally well together, can also function quite successfully on their own, as well as in a variety of other pairings. The tomato mixture, for instance, may be the perfect foil for those seared and sliced chicken breasts, but they also prove the perfect partner for pasta, scrambled eggs, or even a piece of toast. That should come as no surprise given that the mixture is the result of first tossing a quantity of tomatoes with some herbes de Provence and some salt and pepper, then exposing the combo to a fast roasting, before splashing the melting results with a tablespoon of Worcestershire sauce. As such, it’s like a zesty, chunky tomato jam, so its potential pairings are endless.

As for the chicken, the simple technique here of first searing it (for about eight minutes), and then roasting it (another eight to ten minutes), is a surefire way to end up with meat that manages to retain its all-important juiciness, which as any home cook knows is no small achievement where a boneless breast is concerned. What’s more, the generous sprinkling of kosher salt and pepper applied to the chicken pre-sear assures that the skinless meat will still deliver one of the great pleasures of any chicken eating experience: a little exterior crackle. In fact, I’ve found the method to be both so simple and so reliable that I’ve started using it whenever I’m in need of a fast, foolproof method for cooking chicken, using it once to make chicken sandwiches, and another to round out a meal of leftover pasta. That said use caution with the recipe’s suggested cooking time, as I’ve found 10 minutes in the oven to be more than the chicken needs (which, of course, is one way to eliminate the juiciness that can make or break the dish). You might also consider lowering your oven temperature from 450˚ to 350˚ when it comes time to roast the chicken—I tried this the last time I worked with the recipe and it yielded chicken that was that much juicier, though my oven tends to cook fast so you’ll need to play around here.

Still, as fine as the individual parts of this recipe may be, both seem to shine their brightest in the company of the other—a fact that may well have to do with the simple pan sauce that’s assembled once the chicken comes out of the oven, and which seems to pull the entire dish together. It’s here that the red wine vinegar comes into play, this after an additional tablespoon of olive oil is added to the same skillet in which the chicken has been cooked, followed by a small quantity of minced shallot. After these two ingredients are given a quick sauté (a minute or so will do it), in goes the vinegar—an addition that offers both a welcome acidic kick, as well as a vehicle for scraping up those tasty browned bits left behind by the chicken—followed a short time later by the roasted tomato mixture. A quick simmer is all it takes to bring these various flavors into a harmonious whole, and to thicken things up to a sufficiently saucy consistency. Slice the chicken, douse with the tomatoes and sauce, sprinkle with the herbs (though about half the amount called for should do it), and you’re good to go.

As you’ll note from the photos accompanying this posting, I elected to layer all of the above on a small mound of white rice—in part because I felt the dish needed a little starch, but also because all that wonderful sauce needed an effective vehicle for capturing whatever the chicken and tomatoes didn’t absorb. For me it proved just the ticket, offering the added bonus of some sauce-soaked kernels along with those tender slices of chicken and flavor-packed pockets of roasted tomato. Still, if your goal is to keep things as streamlined and carb-free as the recipe was originally written, a starch free version will be plenty satisfying as well. Just consider doubling the recipe, since as written the quantities are better suited for two than for four—and a meal this good demands second helpings.

Ingredients:
—1½ lbs cherry tomatoes or other small tomatoes on the vine
—6 tbs olive oil, divided
—2 tbs herbes de Provence (see note, below)
—1 tsp kosher salt, plus more as needed
—Freshly ground black pepper
—1 tbs Worcestershire sauce
—1 lb skinless, boneless chicken breasts
—1 small shallot, minced
—2 tbs red wine vinegar
—3 tbs flat-leaf parsley leaves
—3 tbs fresh tarragon leaves

Note: Herbes de Provence, a dried herb mixture (typically comprising basil, thyme, lavender, and fennel, among other herbs), can be found at specialty food stores and in the spice section of most supermarkets.

Directions:
—Preheat oven to 450˚. Combine tomatoes, 2 tbs oil, and herbes de Provence in a large bowl. Season with salt and pepper; toss to coat. Heat 1 tbs oil in a large heavy ovenproof skillet until oil shimmers. Carefully add tomatoes to pan (oil may spatter). Transfer skillet to oven and roast, turning once, until tomatoes burst and give up some of their juices, about 15 minutes. Transfer to a medium bowl and drizzle with Worcestershire sauce.
—Meanwhile, season chicken all over with 1 tsp salt and pepper. Heat 2 tbs oil in a large ovenproof skillet over medium-high heat. Sear chicken on both sides until golden brown, 6 to 8 minutes. Transfer pan to oven and roast chicken until cooked through, 8 to 10 minutes. Transfer chicken to a cutting board and let rest for at least 5 minutes.
—Add remaining 1 tbs oil to same skillet; heat over medium heat. Add shallot and cook, stirring often, until fragrant, about 1 minute. Deglaze pan with vinegar, scraping up browned bits from bottom of pan; add tomatoes and their juices and simmer until sauce is just beginning to thicken, about 1 minute. Season sauce to taste with salt and pepper.
—Slice chicken; divide among plates. Spoon tomatoes and sauce over; garnish with herbs.

Serves 4

The post 09/27/12 • WEEKNIGHT CHICKEN WINNER appeared first on THE RECIPE GRINDER.

From A Taste of Old Cuba (HarperCollins)

Last night Alfredo and I hosted a small dinner for our good friend Scott who was celebrating one of those big birthdays that only come around a few times in your life—the kind with a nice round number that the celebrant generally prefers not to linger on (and so I won’t either). It was a great night with good friends, good food, and too much drinking, and I have a doozy of a hangover to show for it, one that’s made everything from getting to work today to stringing together a coherent sentence especially challenging. Still, the evening was well worth all the frustrations of this morning, not least of which because Scott seemed to so thoroughly enjoy himself. And, on a secondary level, it gave me an excuse to whip up a large batch of paella, something I’ve been craving, and which is the ultimate party food in my book.

In truth, you kind of need a party to get up the mojo required to make paella, because there’s a lot of advance work associated with preparing it. The good news is that most of the heavy-lifting is done before your guests arrive, which means you can stand around drinking too much wine without worrying whether dinner will make it to the table. And it makes for an impressive presentation on the plate that doesn’t require lots of different serving dishes—it’s a vivid one-dish meal that everyone tends to like (as long as all your guests eat shellfish). I mean what could be better than chunks of chicken, chorizo, and shrimp, nestled in a mound of rice that’s plump with the moisture of absorbed chicken broth, all of it infused with the flavor of saffron? In fact, I have a Tupperware container holding some of last night’s leftovers sitting here on my desk, and it’s been teasing me since about 10:30 this morning, asking me if it isn’t lunchtime yet.

Which brings me to the subject of this week’s posting, arroz con pollo (rice with chicken)—a Cuban classic that’s similar to paella in some significant ways but that features a fraction of the ingredients and is less labor intensive as a result. Like paella, arroz con pollo calls on saffron for flavoring and a short grain rice such as Valencia or Bomba for the all-important starch. And in both dishes the rice is left to cook in a large quantity of chicken broth, liquid that it tends to suck right up thanks to the magnificent absorption properties associated with this variety of grain. In this way the consistency of the finished dish is almost like risotto—not quite as broken down, but sticky, wet, and full of the flavors of whatever other ingredients have been added to the pot.

In the case of arroz con pollo, the rice is not just cooked alongside the saffron and the chicken broth, but also several pounds of previously browned chicken parts, as well as a quantity of sautéed onions and green peppers . . . and nothing else. In other words, unlike paella, arroz con pollo is only rice and chicken—meaning there’s no seafood, no chorizo, and none of those other tasty add-ins that tend to be featured in the Spanish dish. Think of it as a simplified version of paella, and a meal that’s simple enough for an easy weeknight dinner.

The version of the recipe I bring to you here comes from A Taste of Old Cuba by María Josefa Lluriá de O’Higgins (I love this woman’s name almost as much as I love her classic Cuban recipes!), and the dish takes no more than forty-five minutes or so to prepare, not counting the time needed to marinate the chicken in a mixture of mashed garlic, salt, pepper and something called “sour orange juice.” This last item is produced by a number of companies, including Goya (who markets it under the name “naranja agria”), though in my experience it’s hard to find it at most markets. No worries, though—it can be made easily enough by mixing regular orange juice with an equal amount of lime juice. As for the marinating process itself, though the recipe suggests allowing just an hour for this, Alfredo’s aunt Toya extends this to as much as four hours, something I tried on my last outing and will incorporate into future versions, as well.

Also, while the recipe calls for a mixture of breasts, thighs and drumsticks, I prefer all white meat, cut crosswise to make for a more manageable size. In any case, once marinated it’s time to brown the chicken, a process that should take about three minutes per side. The recipe says to do this in a wide shallow pan, but given the three cups of liquid to follow, here again I’d propose a small change, swapping the wide pan for a large Dutch oven. Either way, when the chicken has taken on a nice golden color it’s removed from the pot and set aside, at which point it’s time to sauté the onions and pepper, which serve as the flavoring backbone for this dish. After three minutes or so these ingredients should take on a translucent quality, which tells you it’s time to introduce most of the other items—the broth, the saffron, the tomato sauce, the marinade the chicken was left to soak in, and the chicken itself. This mixture is left to simmer for five minutes, and then it’s time to add the star ingredient: the rice.

Since the rice (duh) requires liquid to cook, it’s important that all the grains be fully submerged—and to stay that way—during the estimated half hour of cooking time. That means it’s important to keep an eye on the pot and to add more liquid (chicken broth, dry white wine, even beer) as needed. Also, while those thirty minutes should be sufficient to get the job done, on a few occasions I’ve found it took longer. If that’s the case be sure to give the mixture a few good stirs as you go, since the rice at the bottom of the pot risks burning after more than thirty minutes. In any case, once the liquid has been absorbed and the rice is plump and tender, remove the pot from the heat while you quickly warm the petit pois and the sliced pimiento. These are then scattered across the surface of the finished dish. And that’s it!

According to the recipe the finished dish should be enough to serve between six and eight people, though in my experience the number is more like four—something I attribute to just how very good this simple dish can be. So good, in fact, that the last time I prepared it I began to congratulate myself on having taken a key step in mastering the art of Cuban cooking. Alfredo, however, was not quite as effusive. While he agreed that the dish tasted just as it should, he found it lacking in one key area: color—specifically the bright yellow hue associated with so much of the prepared rice in Cuban cooking. And this despite the fact that I’d gone heavy on the saffron! So in search of an answer I reached out once again to Alfredo’s aunt, who revealed that the secret lay in a condiment called Bijol, which is produced in Cuba and is composed of a mixture of corn flour, ground cumin and a few other goodies, including (ahem) food coloring. In the case of my arroz con pollo, she assured me that a ¼ teaspoon or so would be enough to imbue it with the signature shade associated with the country’s signature starch, all without altering the flavor. I’m still not quite sure how I feel about adding food coloring to my cooking, though I suppose when it comes to flying the proper colors for a favorite national dish, exceptions must be made.

Ingredients:
—3 garlic cloves, peeled
—1 tbs salt
—1 tsp pepper
—1/4 cup *sour orange juice (or a 50/50 mixture of sweet orange juice and lime juice)
—4 lbs skinned chicken thighs, legs, and breasts
—1/4 vegetable oil
—2 medium onions, peeled and finely chopped
—1 large green pepper, cored, seeded, and finely chopped
—3 cups chicken broth
—4 strands saffron, toasted in a dry skillet over medium heat for about 30 seconds or until they lose their moisture
—2 tbs tomato sauce
—2 cups Valencia rice
—Beer, dry white wine, or additional chicken broth
—Two 8 oz cans petit pois (tiny peas), drained, or 1 cup tiny frozen peas, thawed
—One 6 oz jar pimientos, drained and cut into strips
*Goya produces a concentrated sour orange juice called Naranja Agria.
Directions:
—Mash the garlic into a paste with the salt and pepper. (A mortar and pestle works best, but you may mince the garlic finely with a knife or put it through a garlic press and mash the seasonings in with a fork.)
—Add the orange juice and pour this marinade over the chicken pieces. Refrigerate for about one hour.
—Heat the oil over medium heat in a paella pan or other wide, shallow pan. (NOTE: As mentioned above, I prefer to use a large Dutch oven.)
—Blot the chicken pieces on paper towels and brown them in the hot oil. Reserve the marinade. Set the browned chicken pieces aside.
—In the same oil, sauté the onions and green pepper until the onions are translucent, about 3 minutes. Add the broth, saffron, tomato sauce, reserved marinade, and the chicken and simmer for about 5 minutes.
—Add the rice and stir just enough to cover it with liquid. If the rice is not fully covered, add more broth, wine, or beer. Simmer until all the liquid has been absorbed and the rice is cooked, about 30 minutes. Add more broth, wine, or beer as needed.
—Remove the pan from the heat while you warm the peas and pimientos separately. Garnish the arroz con pollo with them and serve.
Serves 6 to 8

The post 05/10/12 • CHICKEN, CUBAN-STYLE! appeared first on THE RECIPE GRINDER.

From the Jan., 2011 Martha Stewart Living (click here to view the recipe)

It’s funny how a dish that’s been around for what seems like forever can suddenly catch on again, showing up on the pages of cookbooks and cooking magazines with renewed currency. Such has recently been the case with one of my all-time favorites (obsessions, really) — chicken parmigiana. For years I’ve had a weakness for this Italian American classic, in large part because it features two of my favorite ingredients, tomato sauce and melted cheese, but also because both of these items lend themselves so well to a boneless chicken breast.

Now even though chicken parm is something I could well have fallen in love with in my hometown of Philadelphia, and even though I got myself in front of plenty of Italian food in those days, it’s a dish I only came to appreciate when I moved to New York City. In fact, over the years it’s become for me the city’s Italian American signature. Which made it all the more surprising that what I was sampling at my local red sauce establishments was so underwhelming. Was it asking too much to be served a chicken breast that hadn’t been pummeled to the consistency of shoe leather, or a marinara sauce that didn’t taste as though it came straight from a jar? After all, this wasn’t a unicorn I was in search of — somewhere in my not so distant past I’d actually experienced a parm that had both a moist center and the sort of crackling exterior that’s the perfect partner to the slick of salty cheese that surrounds it. And then there’s the all-important topping: the one I remembered had the snap of fresh garlic and crushed tomatoes, which only served to amplify the various other flavors on the plate. That’s what I was looking for.

So a little over a year ago I went on the hunt for a recipe, figuring I could make it better myself. I searched Epicurious, the various cooking magazines, my cookbook shelf — all the usual suspects — yet to my surprise none of the recipes I came across resembled the homey, full-bodied dish I knew and loved. Everything had been fancied-up or made more healthful. And then a few weeks later, as I was going through the monthly cooking magazines, there it was — in not one, but several of the books then on the newsstand. In other words, I wasn’t the only one looking to satisfy this particular craving. To my eye, the most promising was the version that appeared in the January, 2011 edition of Martha Stewart Living. The directions seemed manageable enough, and the corresponding photo of the finished product went right to the core of my red sauce loving heart.

And so I got busy, gathering the necessary ingredients, then launching into the various steps involved in assembling the dish. The recipe promised a prep time of 40 minutes, and although I was busy pounding the chicken, making the sauce, and putting the whole thing together for well over an hour before even slipping it into the oven, it was a time commitment I was happy to make given the anticipated reward. Which proved to be the right attitude, as the result of my efforts was closer to my parm fantasy than anything else I’d sampled recently: the perfect ratio of cheese and sauce to chicken, a breast that retained just the right amount of moisture, and the ideal mix of cheeses. What’s more, my version looked just as alluring as MSL‘s — the ultimate chicken parm specimen (framed by a side of spaghetti, of course).

But there were problems. For the requisite breading the directions suggested using day old bread, something I didn’t have on hand and wasn’t willing to wait for (I’d done enough of that, I figured), and so went with a fresh loaf, which yielded (duh) a moister, chunkier crumb than I wanted — something akin to the size of crumbled cornflakes. This proved a major drawback as it created a crust that was both too thick and too damp. For my second try I made sure I had a day old loaf to work with, and the results were far better — a light crunchy crust that held up beautifully under the weight of the cheese and sauce. That said, on subsequent outings I’ve also gone with packaged, unseasoned breadcrumbs, which had no discernable impact to the finished recipe, and which put considerably less pressure on the cook. (Hey, it’s always nice to know there’s a shortcut if you need one.) Either way, the key to making sure the coating adheres to the breasts is dredging them first in flour, then in an egg bath, before finally dragging the now thickened and somewhat gummy breasts through the breadcrumbs. And just to make sure that precious breading doesn’t fall away when it starts to cook, be sure to let the mixture harden to the surface of the chicken for a half hour before it’s introduced to the sizzling oil in your frying pan.

More importantly, however, I felt MSL’s sauce was both too thin in texture and too tame in flavor, lacking the kind of zing I look for in a marinara. As I tasted it, I kept thinking of the recipe I typically use when making spaghetti and meatballs, one that’s full of bite and body and that I felt certain would deliver exactly what this recipe was missing. So instead of running whole canned tomatoes through the food processer as MSL suggested, I simply bought a crushed variety (my favorite is San Marzano), which not only created a heartier sauce but shaved precious minutes off my cooking time. And to address the flavor issue, I increased the amount of garlic from 4 cloves to 6, smashing instead of slicing them. As for the herbs, I chopped the fresh basil instead of tearing it (the torn pieces never fully integrated into the MSL sauce), and opted for dried oregano instead of fresh, since this critical flavor hadn’t come through fully in the earlier version.

What’s more, I found some tweaks were needed when it came to assembling, frying, and baking the dish, so rather than the 3/4 cup of sauce called for to cover the base of the baking dish, I increased this to a full cup, while also upping the amount of sauce used to cover the chicken itself, from 1 cup to 1½. And I made a few adjustments to the cooking times as well, frying the cutlets for between 2 to 3 minutes (instead 3 to 4), and baking the dish, covered, for 15 minutes, as the 10 minutes suggested by the recipe did not achieve the desired bubbling cheese results. (NOTE: All of these suggested changes are listed below, immediately following the corresponding recipes.)

The results of all my tinkering: A crunchy, zesty chicken parm that delivers on all fronts. So even if I can’t find a chicken parm around New York that measures up to my lofty memory of the dish, at least I have a recipe in my arsenal that does. And now you have it, too.

Ingredients for breading and frying:
—2 cups fine plain breadcrumbs
—1/2 cup grated Pecorino Romano or Parmesan cheese
—Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
—1 cup all-purpose flour
—4 large eggs, lightly beaten
—1 lb. chicken cutlets, pounded to a 1/8” thickness
—1/4 cup vegetable oil, plus more if needed

Ingredients for assembling:
—Six cups marinara sauce (TRG’s recipe below)
—1¼ cups coarsely grated mozzarella cheese (5 oz.)
—1/4 cup finely grated Pecorino Romano or Parmesan cheese (1/2 oz)

Ingredients for TRG’s marinara sauce:
—3 28 oz cans Italian plum tomatoes, crushed
—1/2 cup olive oil
—6 cloves garlic, lightly smashed
—1 tbs plus 2 tsp kosher salt
—1/4 cup chopped fresh basil
—1 tsp freshly ground black pepper
—1/4 tsp dried oregano

MSL‘s Directions for making and assembling the chicken parmigiana:
—Combine the breadcrumbs, Pecorino or Parmesan, ½ tsp salt, and some pepper. Put flour, eggs, and breadcrumb mixture in 3 separate dishes. Dredge cutlets in flour, shaking off the excess. Dip in egg, letting excess drip off. Dredge in breadcrumbs to coat. Let stand for 30 minutes.
—Heat oil in a large straight-sided skillet over medium-high heat. (Oil is ready when a breadcrumb sizzles when dropped in.) Working in batches, fry cutlets until golden, 3 to 4 minutes per side. Transfer to a paper-towel lined baking sheet. (If oil gets too dirty, discard, and heat an additional ¼ cup).
—Heat oven to 375 degrees. Spread ¾ cup marinara sauce (directions below) in the bottom of a 9” x 13” baking dish. Arrange a single layer of cutlets on top. Top with 1 cup sauce, covering each piece. Sprinkle with mozzarella and Pecorino or Parmesan. Cover with foil and bake until bubbling, about 10 minutes. Uncover; bake until cheese melts, about 2 minutes more.

TRG’S suggested modifications: When frying the cutlets, I found 2 to 3 minutes was sufficient. Also, I needed slightly more sauce to cover the bottom of my baking dish and increased the amount from ¾ cup to 1 cup. Similarly, I needed 1½ cups of sauce to cover the cutlets, instead of the 1 cup listed. Lastly, once covered with foil and placed in the oven, I found it took 15 minutes, not 10, for the dish to achieve the desired bubbly results.

TRG’s directions for making the marinara sauce:
—In a 7 quart or larger saucepan, heat the oil on medium heat. Add the garlic and sauté until lightly golden brown, about 2 minutes. Add the tomatoes and salt. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat, and simmer, stirring occasionally, for 45 minutes to 1 hour; the sauce will reduce and thicken slightly but shouldn’t get too thick. Stir in the basil, pepper, and oregano.

NOTE: This recipe yields 7 cups of sauce, 1 cup more than called for in the recipe above, but enough to cover the extra specified in my modified version. (And if you find you prefer to stick with the original amounts, the extra can always be refrigerated for up to four days, or frozen.)

Serves four

The post 03/29/12 • PARM PERFECTION appeared first on THE RECIPE GRINDER.

From Elle Decor (click here to view the recipe)

Maybe it comes from growing up in a house where Sunday football was the sort of social event that had family, friends, even a few of my stepfather’s graduate students, gathered around the television, feasting on sandwiches and anything else my mom brought out of the kitchen, but today I like nothing more than inviting a group over for food and TV. Of course, it helps if there’s actually something on TV worth watching — ideally the sort of program that doesn’t require a lot of concentration or preclude the possibility of conversation. This coming Sunday’s Academy Awards offers just such an occasion, in part because it’s a show that doesn’t just invite commentary from those splayed across your living room sofa but is generally made better because of it. (Who needs Joan Rivers when you have your own crew of self-appointed fashion critics picking apart those Red Carpet looks?)

The challenge, of course, is what to feed a crowd that will mostly be balancing plates on their knees. A fun/silly event like the Oscars calls for something in a similar vein, but one that will have you out of the kitchen and claiming your spot on the sofa in time for your guests’ arrival. In past years my solution to this puzzle has come in the form of one-dish dinners like chicken potpie or a souped-up mac-and-cheese, though the chicken and mushroom lasagna I bring to you here is one I’d also add to the list. It’s a recipe I pulled from the Jan./Feb. 2012 issue of Elle Décor, and while there’s definitely some effort involved (preparation and assembly takes at minimum a few hours), most of the heavy-lifting can be done up to a day in advance. And the payoff is huge.

I fear I may already have lost you with that “heavy-lifting” bit but let me repeat the previous sentence: the payoff is huge. In other words, that heavy lifting is well worth the effort. Unlike the dish you typically think of when you hear the word lasagna this one involves no tomato, ricotta, or mozzarella. Now I personally hold all three of these ingredients in high esteem, but the fact that this version substitutes them for things like cream, chicken, and wild mushrooms means that the end result is something both richer and earthier than the standard. So instead of the acidic tang of a marinara sauce cutting through the richness of the cheese, you have a cream sauce providing heft and depth to the proceedings. Factor in the presence of the sautéed chicken, mushrooms, spinach, and some white wine, and you’re left with a heartier, Gallic version of the Italian classic — think of it as lasagna’s brother from another mother.

With all this, however, comes a number of added steps — from chopping (the onions, celery, chicken, mushrooms, cheese), to sautéing (see previous, minus the cheese, plus the spinach), to grating, to stirring… lots of stirring, in fact, and simmering. The simmering comes into play late in the game, during a final prep stage that calls for making a kind of bechemal sauce in a pot already containing the sautéed chicken, previously coated with flour and having absorbed a good deal of white wine. None of this is particularly taxing, but it does require some patience and, in my experience, tends to take longer than the instructions estimate. But again, it’s worth it. Just wear comfortable shoes.

Not convinced? Well, I haven’t even mentioned the cheese, of which there is plenty to provide the textural component that’s so important with lasagna — part runny/gooey, part crispy/crackly. The latter comes from the addition of some grated parmesan cheese, added in the final moments before the whole assemblage is slipped into the oven (or the fridge, if the cooking stage has been put off until the following day). The gooey quality, on the other hand, arrives thanks to the presence of a substantial amount of diced fontina cheese, which is sprinkled across each of the three layers and, once cooked, melts down to an oozing perfection. That said, though the texture couldn’t have been more enticing, I did find myself craving a bit more of a cheesy bite — an added sharpness I ultimately found by swapping the fontina for comté (though gruyere would work just as well). But that’s me; you may prefer something milder, in which case the fontina is the perfect choice.

I would counsel, however, against using chanterelles, one of the three varieties of wild mushrooms suggested by the recipe. Once sautéed and baked alongside the other ingredients I found they became unpleasantly soft and slippery — a sensation that in the company of sautéed chicken can be a little off-putting. Far more successful from my perspective were hen of the woods (which are also suggested by the recipe), though I ended up supplementing them with standard issue Baby Bellas as the market didn’t have enough of the former to satisfy the recipe. Despite the addition of this domestic variety, the mushroom combo still had plenty of earthy flavor and held up far better than the chanterelles, making them a far more appealing partner to the chicken.

One other minor tweak involves the cooking time. After baking for 30 minutes, covered, at 350 degrees, the recipe instructs you to remove the foil and brown the parmesan topping in a 400 degree oven for ten to fifteen minutes more. Maybe it’s a quirk of my oven, but even after thirty minutes at the suggested temperature, the color of the topping obstinately refused to budge into golden brown territory. So instead, I’ve taken to turning the oven to the broiler setting and doing a final blast at that temperature for the last ten minutes. Whatever you do, however, be sure to keep an eye on things as the last thing you want after all that chopping, sautéing, whisking, and simmering is to see your efforts turn the color of your broiler pan.

Ingredients:
—5 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
—2 medium onions, finely diced
—2 stalks celery, finely diced
—1 lb. fresh wild mushrooms (such as Chanterelles, black trumpet, or hen of the woods, also called Maitake), trimmed, washed, and roughly chopped
—1/2 lb. spinach leaves, stems removed, washed
—4 tbs. butter, plus extra to grease pan
—2 lbs. boneless, skinless chicken thighs cut into approximately 1/2” pieces
—1 cup dry white wine
—1/2 cup all-purpose flour
—1 cup heavy cream
—3 cups milk
—1/2 bunch Italian parsley leaves, roughly chopped
—Freshly grated nutmeg to taste
—16 dried lasagna noodles
—1 lb. fontina cheese, cut into small dice
—1 cup grated Parmesan
—Salt and freshly ground white pepper

Directions:
—In a large Dutch oven or stockpot, heat 3 tablespoons of the olive oil over medium-low heat. Add the onion and celery with a sprinkle of salt and pepper, and cook, stirring, until translucent, about 3 minutes. Increase heat to medium-high, and add mushrooms. Cook, stirring, for 3 minutes, then add the spinach with a sprinkle of salt and pepper. Cook until spinach is wilted and mushrooms are tender. Remove the vegetables from the pot and reserve.
—Add the butter to the same pot, and adjust the heat to medium. Season the chicken on all sides with salt and pepper, and add to the melted butter. Cook, stirring, until the chicken is almost cooked through but not browned, about 6 minutes. Add the wine and simmer until almost completely reduced.
—Sprinkle the flour over the chicken, and cook, stirring, for about 5 minutes, allowing the flour to coat the chicken and absorb the liquid. Gradually stir in the cream and milk, scraping the pot to release any cooked flour from the bottom and sides (if necessary, stir with a whisk to break up any lumps). Simmer for 5 minutes, stirring constantly, allowing the liquid to thicken.
—With a spoon or ladle, reserve 1 cup of liquid. Remove the pot from the heat, and add the cooked vegetables and mushrooms. Add the chopped parsley. Season with nutmeg, salt, and pepper to taste.
—Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil and cook the noodles for about 8 minutes; they should be not quite cooked through (al dente). Strain the noodles in a colander, and rinse in cold water. Drain, then toss noodles with 2 tablespoons of olive oil to prevent sticking.
—Center a rack in the oven and preheat it to 350 degrees. Butter a 9” x 13” baking pan. Place a layer of 4 noodles on the bottom, overlapping them slightly. Top with one third of the chicken mixture, then one third of the diced fontina. Repeat layering twice more, finishing with a layer of noodles. Spread the reserved sauce on the noodles and then sprinkle with Parmesan. (At this stage, the lasagna can be refrigerated overnight. Cover tightly with aluminum foil or plastic wrap.)
—Cover with aluminum foil or a lid and bake for 30 minutes. Increase heat to 400 degrees, remove the foil, and continue to bake until golden brown, 10 to 15 minutes more.

Serves 10 to 12

The post 02/23/12 • A LAYERED PERFORMANCE appeared first on THE RECIPE GRINDER.

As featured in Vanity Fair • 11/23/2011 • www.vf.com

Everyone has at least one favorite Thanksgiving recipe. I can think of about ten that immediately spring to mind, and over time I hope to bring all of them to you (as Dorie Greenspan once said to me, food is ultimately about sharing, a concept that effectively kills the idea of the “secret recipe”). But this year, for my first Thanksgiving posting, rather than focusing on my favorite stuffing recipe, or my preferred way to roast the bird, I wanted to address what I thought might be a more interesting challenge — namely, what to do with all those holiday leftovers.

I should probably start by saying that I love Thanksgiving. I love the tradition of sharing a big meal with the people I care about; I love the buildup and the preparation to a giant feast; and I love the food. I mean I REALLY love the food. That typically means that despite any promises I may make to myself in advance, by the time the big day arrives, ambition has overtaken good sense and I have considerably more food on the table than our assembled numbers could possibly consume. To some extent that’s intentional — nothing would be more disappointing than spending days cooking only to have it gone in one gut-busting meal; I want the experience to last for at least several more. But as wonderful as a reheated plate of turkey, stuffing, gravy, etc., can be (and truthfully, it can sometimes be even better the second and third time around), there are only so many repeats even the biggest meat-head like me can handle. The same holds true for the much-loved turkey sandwich. So with a nod to Peggy Lee I wondered: is that all there is . . . to Thanksgiving leftovers?

The answer, I felt certain, was no. With that in mind I set about coming up with a recipe that would call into play those post-Thanksgiving elements that most of us have in excess — namely, the turkey, the gravy, and a motley assortment of roasted vegetables. What I envisioned was a way to transform these various stray items into one tidy meal that would taste as pulled together as it looked. In other words, I wanted something that would rid the ingredients of their “leftover” status and imbue them with a purpose all their own. The solution: a casserole.

Admittedly, I type the word “casserole” with a degree of trepidation, as for most of us the term calls up images of 1950s-era dishes that aren’t quite ready for a comeback (tuna casserole anyone? . . . No, I thought not). Still, if you think of a casserole as a variety of ingredients cooked together in the same dish in which it’s ultimately served, a much more enticing array of options come to mind — things like shepherd’s pie, lasagna, and any sort of pot pie. I happen to be a big fan of all of these dishes, both because they’re consistent crowd pleasers, but also because much of the work involved in making them can be done well in advance of chow time, which means that if you’re feeding a crowd you don’t need to be scrambling in the kitchen as your guests arrive.

For all of these reasons — and because I can never get enough of it — chicken pot pie shows up regularly at my house, so a turkey based version seemed a logical way to go here. By taking elements from my favorite chicken pot pie recipe and substituting the meat and sauce called for with the same amounts of my leftover turkey and gravy, I felt certain I could come up with a new day-after-Thanksgiving tradition. And then an idea took hold — instead of a standard pastry topping, why not crown the surface of the turkey mixture with one made of biscuits? Not only would the result be a kind of one dish Thanksgiving dinner, but it would also have some of the qualities of another of my cool weather favorites, chicken and dumplings. And by using leftover meat and gravy, much of the time involved in my admittedly labor-intensive chicken pot pie starting-point would be eliminated, making the cooking process a relatively speedy one. All I’d need to do is roast some vegetables (potatoes, certainly, as well as some carrots, a few handfuls of pearl onions, some sliced Cremini mushrooms, a nice mound of chopped garlic and herbs, all of it tossed with a little olive oil), mix them with the sauce, the diced turkey meat, and a cup of thawed frozen peas, cover with the biscuits (allow ten minutes to prepare these, tops), and presto: Thanksgiving rebooted. Simple.

And delicious, too — so delicious that even when I don’t have four cups of roast turkey meat and gravy sitting in the fridge, I’ll be tempted to make this. (For those who feel the same, or who find they don’t have quite enough leftovers to work with, I’ve included easy recipes for each of these elements below). It’s also spectacular looking, with the golden brown biscuits towering over the bubbling turkey and vegetable mixture. In fact, these biscuits are so impressive they resembled tiny individual souffles (the recipe is based on one from America’s Test Kitchen and is the answer to all the biscuit related hand-wringing expressed in my breakfast biscuit sandwich posting of Sept. 16th). Just be certain to bake the casserole mixture uncovered for about twenty minutes in a hot oven (450 degrees) before adding the dough, as the turkey and sauce must be sufficiently heated to cook the undersides of the biscuits.

Serve with a spoonful or two of leftover cranberry sauce and you may just end up giving the main event a run for its money. Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

Ingredients for filling:
—4 cups leftover turkey meat (diced in 1” or ½” chunks from about 10 slices; see ingredients and directions below if making fresh)
—4 cups leftover gravy (see ingredients and instructions below if making fresh)
—2 tbs olive oil
—Salt and freshly ground black pepper
—2 cups ½” potato chunks, preferably Yukon Gold
—36 purple pearl onions, peeled and left whole
—2 cups ½” peeled carrot chunks
—1 clove garlic, peeled and chopped
—20 button mushrooms, stems trimmed and caps halved or quartered (if large)
—2 tbs chopped assorted fresh herbs (rosemary, thyme, Italian parsley)
—1 cup defrosted frozen peas

Note: Feel free to add as much as a 1/2 cup leftover cooked vegetables, diced, as well.

Ingredients for biscuit topping:
—8 tbs (1 stick) unsalted butter
—4 tbs vegetable shortening
—3 cups all-purpose flour
—1 tbs sugar
—1 tbs baking powder
—1 tsp salt
—1/2 tsp baking soda
—1¼ cups buttermilk

Ingredients for roast turkey breast (if not using leftovers):
—1 2¼ boneless turkey breast, net removed
—2 tbs extra-virgin olive oil
—1½ tsp coarse salt
—1 tsp freshly ground pepper
—2 tbs chopped rosemary and thyme

Ingredients for gravy (if not using leftovers):
—4 cups homemade turkey stock or store bought low-salt chicken stock
—6 tbs butter
—6 tbs all-purpose flour
—2 tbs chopped assorted fresh herbs (rosemary, thyme, Italian parsley)
—6 dried porcini mushrooms
—2 tbs Madeira, preferably Sercial

Misc.:
—Leftover cranberry sauce, for serving

Directions for roasted vegetables and filling:
—Position a rack in the middle of the oven and preheat to 350 degrees. In a large roasting pan toss the potatoes, onions, carrots, garlic and mushrooms with 2 tablespoons olive oil and the chopped herbs. Roast until the vegetables are tender, about 1 hour and 15 minutes, stirring the vegetables every fifteen minutes or so. Proceed with gravy, if making (instructions below).
—Transfer the vegetables to a large bowl and add the peas, the chopped turkey, and the gravy. Gently stir and adjust seasoning, as needed.
—Preheat oven to 450 degrees.
—Transfer mixture to a 2-quart baking dish and place on top of a cookie sheet (to catch any drips). Place on middle rack in a 450 degree oven for about 20 minutes, until beginning to bubble but keeping an eye out to make sure the top doesn’t burn (if it does, cover with foil and continue to cook for the remaining time). Proceed with biscuit topping (instructions below).

Directions for biscuit topping:
—Cut butter and shortening into ½” pieces and refrigerate until chilled, about 30 minutes.
—Pulse flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, and baking soda in food processor until combined. Add chilled butter and shortening and pulse until mixture resembles coarse meal.
—Transfer flour mixture to a large bowl and stir in buttermilk until combined. Turn dough unto lightly floured surface and knead briefly, 8 to 10 times, to form smooth, cohesive ball. Roll dough into a 9” circle, about ¾” thick.
—Using a 3” biscuit cutter dipped in flour, cut out rounds. Gather remaining dough and pat gently into a ¾” circle to cut additional rounds. Place rounds on cooked turkey mixture, or on a parchment-lined cookie sheet and refrigerate, covered with plastic warp, for up to 1 day.

The post 11/24/11 • TURKEY POT PIE appeared first on THE RECIPE GRINDER.