Roasting a whole chicken used to feel like an ordeal to meal. It certainly was a process, one never attempted mid-week. After poking a lemon with a skewer 25 times, smashing garlic cloves, chopping up carrots and shallots, stuffing the cavity and pinning the neck closed, I would swaddle the dear bird with twine, a poor attempt at trussing. Geez Louise — just thinking about all of the steps makes me question why I ever attempted whole roasted chicken at all.

If you, too, reserve roasting a whole chicken for special occasions only, please know that a super moist, most delicious chicken can be achieved in 45 minutes. It’s true. Best of all, it requires no trussing.

Many of you already know about the much adored Zuni Cafe roast chicken and bread salad recipe. Some of you may have even had the luxury of enjoying it at the beloved San Francisco cafe. From oysters to wood-fired baked bread to ricotta gnocchi to chocolate gâteau and biscotti, the Zuni dinner my husband and I enjoyed there with two dear friends rates as one of the best ever.

And the roast chicken and bread salad for us (and many others) remains the most memorable course. The dish is a sort of roast chicken panzanella, a combination of spicy mustard greens, sweet currants, toasted pine nuts, and chewy peasant-style bread. And the bread. Oh the bread! Saturated with pan drippings and a light vinaigrette, these irresistible cubes are the star of the dish. Seriously, I could eat the whole batch of bread salad alone. The Zuni cookbook, one of my favorites for its stories and thoughtfully written recipes, offers detailed instructions on choosing a chicken, on salting the chicken (what they refer to as the “practice of salting early”), and on assembling this whole dish. (If you’re looking for a food-related gift, this book is prefect for any foodie — it’s filled with goodies.)

Anyway, while I rarely make the bread salad recipe — it indeed is a bit of a process — I make the roast chicken at least once a week. I can never find birds under 4 lbs. (Zuni recommends using a 2 3/4 to 3 1/2 lb bird) but even so, with a hot cast iron skillet and the oven at 475ºF, my chickens finish cooking in 45 minutes consistently. And they are the juiciest, most flavorful chickens ever to emerge from my oven — the dark meat, my favorite, nearly falls off the bone, and the white white, infused with the flavors of sage and thyme (or whatever herb you’ve tucked under the skin) remains tender and juicy. It’s hard to refrain from gnawing on the bones while carving.

This time of year, nothing tastes better to me than a whole roasted chicken. A whole roasted chicken smothering a bread salad that is. While there’s nothing tricky about the bread salad recipe, somehow it always becomes more of a process than I anticipate. Perhaps it’s the way the recipe has been written — I always find my eyes glued to the book, rereading every paragraph to make sure I’m not missing a step. The recipe does not lack details that’s for sure, but it pays. When you’re feeling up for it, take a stab at this recipe. You won’t be disappointed.

Mustard greens from our Olin-Fox Farms CSA:

Note: If you are making the bread salad recipe as well, read that recipe before starting the chicken. If you only have one oven, you might want to start on the bread salad recipe first — the bread needs to be briefly broiled.

Zuni Cafe Roast Chicken
Adapted from the Zuni Cafe Cookbook
Serves 2 to 4

One small chicken, 2 3/4 to 3 1/2-pounds (I can only find chickens over 4 lbs., but I always dig for the smallest bird on the shelf)
4 tender sprigs fresh thyme, marjoram, rosemary or sage, about 1/2 inch long
kosher salt
freshly cracked black pepper
A little water

The Zuni recipe calls for seasoning the chicken one to three days before serving. I never am this organized and find the cooking method to work just as well when the chicken is seasoned just before cooking. If, however, you want to stick to the Zuni method, use about 3/4 teaspoon of sea salt per pound of chicken. Season the chicken liberally all over with salt and pepper. Season the thick sections a little more heavily than the skinny ankles and wings. Sprinkle a little of the salt just inside the cavity, on the backbone, but don’t otherwise worry about seasoning the inside. Twist and tuck the wing tips behind the shoulders. Cover loosely and refrigerate.

If you choose to season the chicken just before roasting, start here:

1. Remove and discard the lump of fat inside the chicken. Rinse the chicken and pat very dry inside and out. Be thorough — a wet chicken will spend too much time steaming before it begins to turn golden brown. Approaching from the edge of the cavity, slide a finger under the skin of each of the breasts, making 2 little pockets. Now use the tip of your finger to gently loosen a pocket of skin on the outside of the thickest section of each thigh. Using your finger, shove an herb sprig into each of the 4 pockets.

2. Preheat the oven to 475°F. Choose a shallow flameproof roasting pan or dish barely larger than the chicken, or use a 10-inch skillet with an all-metal handle (I use a cast iron skillet). Preheat the pan over medium heat. Wipe the chicken dry and set it breast side up in the pan. It should sizzle.

3. Place the chicken in the pan in the center of the oven and listen and watch for it to start browning within 20 minutes. If it doesn’t, raise the temperature progressively until it does. The skin should blister, but if the chicken begins to char, or the fat is smoking, reduce temperature by 25 degrees. After about 30 minutes, turn the bird over — drying the bird and preheating the pan should keep the skin from sticking. Roast for another 10 to 20 minutes, depending on size, then flip back over to recrisp the breast skin, another 5 to 10 minutes.

Note: Every oven is different, but I have found consistent results with cooking the chicken breast side up for 30 minutes and breast side down for 15 minutes. My chickens (all about 4 lbs.) are almost always finished cooking after 45 minutes total — in other words, I skip the final 5 to 10 minute recrisping of the chicken breast side up.

If you are making the bread salad, continue to recipe below.

If you’re not making the bread salad:

4. Remove the chicken from the oven and turn off the heat. Lift the chicken from the roasting pan and set on a plate. Carefully pour the fat from the roasting pan, leaving the lean drippings behind. Add about a tablespoon of water to the hot pan and swirl it. Slash the stretched skin between the thighs and breasts of the chicken, then tilt the bird and plate over the roasting pan to drain the juice into the drippings. Set the chicken in a warm spot (which may be your stovetop) and leave to rest while you finish preparing your dinner (or the bread salad (recipe below)). The meat will become more tender and uniformly succulent as it cools.

Set a platter in the oven to warm for a minute or two. Cut the chicken into pieces; arrange on the warm platter. Tilt the roasting pan and skim the last of the fat. Place over medium-low heat, add any juice that has collected under the chicken, and bring to a simmer. Stir and scrape to soften any hard golden drippings. Taste — the juices will be extremely flavorful.

At this point, drizzle the chicken with some pan drippings if you wish (taste the drippings first — they tend to be very salty, which is perfect for the bread salad, but maybe too much for the chicken alone) or add to bread salad (see recipe below).

Zuni Cafe Bread Salad
Adapted from the Zuni Cafe Cookbook

Generous 8 ounces slightly stale open-crumbed, chewy, peasant-style bread (not sourdough)
6 to 8 tablespoons mild-tasting olive oil
1 1/2 tablespoons Champagne vinegar or white wine vinegar (I use white balsamic — love it)
Salt and freshly cracked black pepper
1 tablespoon dried currants
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar (or any vinegar, I used white balsamic again)
1 tablespoon warm water
2 tablespoons pine nuts (or more)
2 to 3 garlic cloves, slivered
1/4 cup slivered scallions (about 4 scallions), including a little of the green part
2 tablespoons lightly salted chicken stock or lightly salted water
A few handfuls of arugula, frisée, or red mustard greens, carefully washed and dried

1. Preheat the broiler. Carve off all of the crusts from your bread. Cut into a couple of large chunks. Arrange on a sheet pan and drizzle with olive oil. Broil very briefly, to crisp and lightly color the surface. Turn the bread chunks over and crisp the other side. Tear the chunks into a combination of irregular 2- to 3-inch wads, bite-sized bits, and fat crumbs. You should get about 4 cups.

2. Combine about 1/4 cup of the olive oil with the vinegar and salt and pepper to taste. Toss about 1/4 cup of this tart vinaigrette with the torn bread in a wide salad bowl; the bread will be unevenly dressed. Taste one of the more saturated pieces. If it is bland, add a little salt and pepper and toss again.

3. Place the currants in a small bowl and moisten with the red wine vinegar and water. Set aside. Toast the pine nuts in a dry skillet over medium heat, checking frequently and stirring every so often to make sure the nuts do not burn. Remove skillet from heat when nuts are golden.

4. Heat a spoonful of the olive oil in a small skillet, add the garlic and scallions, and cook over medium-low heat, stirring constantly, until softened. Don’t let them color. Scrape into the bread and fold to combine. Drain the plumped currants and fold them in, along with the pine nuts. Dribble the chicken stock or lightly salted water over the salad and fold again.

Taste a few pieces of bread — a fairly saturated one and a dryish one. If it is bland, add salt, pepper, and/or a few drops of vinegar, then toss well.

Pile the bread salad in a 1-quart shallow baking dish and tent with foil. Set the salad bowl aside to be used again later. Place the bread salad in the oven after you flip the chicken the final time, for about 5 to 10 minutes. (Note: I skip this step. I prefer the texture of the bread at room temperature. When I heat it, I find it loses some of its crisp texture.)

5. Remove the chicken from the oven and turn off the heat. Lift the chicken from the roasting pan and set on a plate. Carefully pour the fat from the roasting pan, leaving the lean drippings behind. Add about a tablespoon of water to the hot pan and swirl it. Slash the stretched skin between the thighs and breasts of the chicken, then tilt the bird and plate over the roasting pan to drain the juice into the drippings. Set the chicken in a warm spot (which may be your stovetop) and leave to rest while you finish preparing the bread salad. The meat will become more tender and uniformly succulent as it cools.

6. Tip the bread salad back into the salad bowl. It will be steamy-hot, a mixture of soft, moist wads, crispy-on-the-outside-but-moist-in-the-middle-wads, and a few downright crispy ones. Drizzle and toss with a spoonful of the pan juices. Add the greens, a drizzle of vinaigrette, and fold well. Taste again. Arrange bread salad on a platter. Top with carved chicken.

Can you remember one-third cup? That’s really all you need to know in order to make this recipe: one-third cup olive oil, one-third cup white wine, one-third cup freshly grated Parmigiano Reggiano. Garlic and thyme are nice additions but optional. Just whisk everything together, season the chicken with salt and pepper, throw it in a 450ºF oven and you’re done. Crispy skins. Tender meat. A delicious meal to add to your repertoire.

As the title of this post mentions, this is part two of a making-the-most-of-a-whole-chicken series. I have other recipes for the dark meat, but let’s just start with this one, k? It’s the simplest one I know and perhaps my favorite as well.

So you have a game plan now, right? Buy a chicken. Cut it up. Make stock. Serve broiled tarragon breasts for dinner one night, chicken legs baked with white wine, olive oil and Parmigiano Reggiano another. Fry up that liver for a snack. And cook up those little tenders to add to a salad or a sandwich? I don’t have many creative ideas for the tenders nor much experience with the liver but I’m confident you will not let these bits go to waste. And, any tips you might have for cooking the liver would be much appreciated … I sort of just throw it in a pan and cross my fingers. Yum yum yum.

Chicken Legs Baked with White Wine, Olive Oil & Parmigiano Reggiano

Serves 2

2 chicken drumsticks + 2 chicken thighs
kosher salt and freshly cracked pepper
1/3 cup white wine
1/3 cup olive oil
1/3 cup freshly grated Parmigiano Reggiano
2-3 cloves garlic, minced
a few sprigs fresh thyme

1. Preheat the oven to 450ºF. Season chicken on both sides with salt and pepper.

2. In a small shallow baking dish such as a pie plate, whisk together the white wine, olive oil, about half of the cheese, and the garlic. Throw in the thyme sprigs and the chicken and toss all around to coat.

3. Turn chicken so that the skin is facing up and sprinkle with the remaining cheese. Place in the oven for 30 minutes. Take a peak. If the skin is getting too brown, reduce the heat to 400ºF. Continue baking for about 20 more minutes, or until the meat is pulling away from the bone on the drumstick. The time it takes to cook this chicken will vary depending on your oven, on the size of the legs, if the chicken was cooked directly from the refrigerator or if it had been brought to room temperature before baking, etc. Trust your nose — if you think it’s done, take a stab. After you’ve made the recipe once or twice, you’ll have a better idea about the timing.

I’ll be honest. If I saw a recipe for broiled chicken breasts on a blog, I’d probably stop reading. The words chicken breasts never make my mouth water. Sorry. Blame Liza. I was conditioned at an early age to favor dark meat.

But there’s something about this recipe for breasts that just works. The tarragon-mustard-mayonnaise combo browns and bubbles under the broiler keeping the breasts juicy and tender and flavorful. Even Liza adores this recipe. And I adore how my kitchen smells when these breasts are broiling. It’s up there with onions sautéing in butter and bread baking in the oven and truffle oil drizzled over just about anything.

I go through phases when I make these breasts once a week. I buy a whole chicken, break it down, save the thighs and drumsticks for one meal and the two breasts for another. For the dark meat, I have many recipes that I love (part two of this post to follow shortly), but for the breasts this is it. Just this one. Try it. It couldn’t be simpler. And with the exception of the tarragon, you likely have the ingredients on hand so if you’re disappointed, which would shock me, you won’t have made a huge investment in time or money.

Now, if you enjoy the convenience of buying boneless, skinless chicken parts, read no further. I understand that people are strapped for time. And before I really thought about it, I enjoyed buying packs of boneless skinless chicken thighs myself.

That said, have you ever tried to bone a chicken thigh yourself? It’s hard. Really hard. The process makes you realize just how much these parts have been handled before they reach your kitchen. And while it seems so convenient and cost effective to buy a pack of thighs or drumsticks or boneless breasts, you get so much more out of buying a whole chicken. With one chicken, I can get two meals for two plus 1.5 quarts of chicken stock (at the very least) plus 3 little snacks — 2 chicken tenders and a liver … yum yum yum.

Does the thought of dealing with a whole chicken discourage you? Don’t let it. With a little practice, you’ll soon discover that it’s no big deal. It’s actually quite rewarding. And if you’re organized, in under five minutes, one meal will be minutes from completion, another will be prepped for tomorrow, and your chicken will be in pieces, its carcass simmering on the stovetop promising you a batch of stock tastier and healthier than anything you could buy at the store.

The key is being organized. I’ve included a little video below. All of you pros out there, please don’t laugh — this video is not for you. This is just how I do it. And this is how I set up my station before I start hacking:

• 2 cutting boards
• 1 sharp knife
• trash can nearby with lid removed
• ziplock back nearby, opened, with top part folded over for easy entering
• stock pot
• plate
• mallet
• plastic wrap

You’ll notice in the video that I throw bits of the chicken in the stockpot. When I’m through breaking it down, I fill the pot with water, bring it to a boil, and let it simmer for about 3 hours. That’s it. Making homemade chicken stock is no big deal. If you have onions, carrots, celery to add to the pot, great. If you don’t, don’t sweat it. And this is how you know you’ve made good stock.

Broiled Tarragon Chicken Breasts

Serves 2 generously

2 boneless skinless chicken breasts*, pounded to about 3/4-inch thickness
kosher salt and freshly ground pepper
3 T. mayonnaise**
1 T. mustard
chopped fresh tarragon, lots of it, at least 3 tablespoons

* Preferably cut from a whole chicken. Pound the breasts just so they are even — they might be thicker or thinner than 3/4 of an inch.
** If you want to be really gourmet, make the homemade version, recipe below

1. Preheat the broiler to high.

2. Season both sides of each breast with kosher salt and pepper. Mix mayo, mustard and tarragon together. Grease a broiler pan with olive oil. Place breasts on the pan and spoon half (or a little less than half) of the mayo-mustard mixture over the breasts.

3. Broil 3 minutes. Remove pan. Flip breasts. Spread remaining mayo-mustard mixture over the breasts. Return to the broiler and cook for about 5 to 6 minutes longer, depending on the thickness of the breasts.

Homemade Mayonnaise

Note: This is just for all of you Liza-types out there. Before I discovered that store-bought mayo works just as nicely as homemade in this chicken recipe, I made the mayo from scratch, too. Up to you.
Yield = 1.25 cups

1 egg yolk
1 T. lemon juice
1 T. Dijon mustard
pinch salt and pepper
1 cup regular olive oil (not extra virgin) or grapeseed oil

1. Whisk together the yolk, lemon juice, mustard, salt and pepper.

2. Start beating vigorously while slowly drizzling in the olive oil. Beat until thick and smooth.

Many years ago, my grandmother coined a phrase the women in my family haven’t been able to let go. My grandmother, the women noticed, would describe certain dishes — certain dishes she really liked — as “light light.” If Gramma declared a meal “light light,” the women knew she approved.

Since noticing the pattern, my mother and aunt have strived to make everything they serve to their mother “light light.” Buttermilk panna cotta and orange and olive oil cake pass the “light-light” test with flying colors. Well, when I took a bite of these Asian lettuce wraps made with ginger-marinated chicken thighs topped with a simple slaw of carrots, cucumbers, celery and scallions, I instantly thought of my dear Gramma mou and, of course, of my mother and auntie who will be so pleased to add another “light light” recipe to their repertoire. I know Gramma will approve.

This recipe is fabulous! What’s more, it comes from a book that one of my very own friends wrote! Yeah, I know, I have famous friends. This past April, my friend Tara Mataraza published a book, Almost Meatless, with co-author Joy Manning.  Tara and I met way back in Philadelphia while working at Fork, which recently received Three Bells from Craig Laban of the Philadelphia Inquirer … a huge deal. (Congrats Ellen and everyone at Fork!)

Anyway, when Tara invited me to participate in a virtual potluck on her blog, Crumbs on my Keyboard, I jumped. The hardest part about partaking in this event was picking the actual dish. So many of the dishes — crab pad Thai, steak salad with blue cheese dressing, and Thai coconut curry soup — I saw in the table of contents caught my eye. And if the recipe I’ve made here is any measure of goodness for what’s in the rest of the book, I am in for a real treat once my copy of Almost Meatless arrives.

I am most looking forward to making this recipe for company. It is simple to prepare, stunning to serve, and exceptionally satisfying to eat. Both the slaw and the meat are incredibly flavorful and the combination of the crunchy cool slaw with the tender hot meat is so yummy. Make it. You’ll be happy. I promise.

Slaw Ingredients:

Marinade ingredients:

Asian Lettuce Wraps

Source: Almost Meatless by Tara Mataraza and Joy Manning (Ten Speed Press, 2009)
Reprinted with permission from Ten Speed Press and the authors.
Serves 4

For the marinade:
1 teaspoon fish sauce
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 tablespoon rice wine vinegar
2 tablespoons orange juice
2 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons vegetable oil
1 (2-inch) piece fresh ginger, peeled and minced (about 1 tablespoon)
2 cloves garlic, minced (about 1 tablespoon)
1/4 teaspoon dried chile flakes
1 scallion, green and white parts, sliced
8 to 12 ounces boneless, skinless chicken thighs (about 4 thighs, or 2 thighs and 2 legs), cut into small cubes or strips

For the slaw:
3 tablespoons rice wine vinegar
2 tablespoons orange juice
1/4 teaspoon dark (asian) sesame oil
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon grated fresh ginger
1 thick carrot (about 4 ounces), cut into 1/8-inch strips
1 cucumber, cut into 1/8-inch strips
2 stalks celery, sliced 1/4 inch thick diagonally
2 to 3 scallions, white and green parts, sliced on the diagonal
16 lettuce leaves (romaine, Boston, Bibb, or green or red leaf)
2 tablespoons roasted salted peanuts, coarsely chopped

1. Make the marinade. Combine the fish sauce, soy sauce, vinegar, orange juice, 2 tablespoons oil, the ginger, garlic, chile flakes, and scallion in a medium bowl. Add the chicken and stir to coat the meat. Cover the bowl and place in the refrigerator, letting the chicken marinate for at least 30 minutes.

2. Meanwhile, prepare the slaw. Whisk together the vinegar, orange juice, sesame oil, salt, and ginger in a large bowl. Toss the vinaigrette together with the carrot, cucumber, celery, and scallions. Taste for seasoning and adjust as needed.

3. To prepare the lettuce, rinse and pat the leaves dry. Transfer to the refrigerator until ready to use. (If you choose romaine, use the leafy top part of the lettuce for the wrappers. You can tear off the stiffer bottom stem half, chop it up, and add it to the slaw for extra crunch if you like.)

4. Cook the chicken. Heat 2 teaspoons oil in a large skillet or wok over medium-high heat. Add the marinated chicken and marinade and cook for 5 to 7 minutes, stirring often, until the chicken is firm to the touch and beginning to brown. Stir in the peanuts.

5. To assemble and serve, set out the slaw and chicken in bowls along with a platter of the lettuce. Wrap a scoop of slaw and chicken in each lettuce leaf. Have a napkin handy!

I’m sort of embarrassed about posting this video, but after I shot it, I couldn’t resist. I sound like such a freak. I’m pretty sure I don’t sound like that normally.

Anyway, I happened to be preparing tinga, which I’ve described before, and thought it might be a good opportunity to talk about stock. I know the thought of making stock from scratch can feel like a lot of work. But making stock really is as simple as throwing chickens in a pot, covering them with water, and letting them simmer for a few hours. Additions such as onions, carrots, celery, bay leaves, peppercorns, etc., of course, enhance the flavor of the stock, but if you don’t have them or don’t feel like adding them, it doesn’t matter. The gelatinous stock shown in the video was prepared with nothing more than chickens and water.

Let me tell you about this dish. I learned how to make it from a woman named Patricia who I worked with at Fork back in Philadelphia. Patricia often prepared tinga — chicken stewed with onions, tomatoes and chipotle in adobo sauce — for the “family meal” and served it with rice or soft tortillas. It’s incredibly delicious over crispy tortillas, too, served with a poached egg on top.

This recipe calls for one chicken, but it can be easily doubled. (Tinga freezes well — I have quarts of it ready to be thawed at a moment’s notice.) You also can make chicken stock with the carcass: After you pull off all of the meat, put the remaining bones back in the poaching liquid and let the mixture simmer for another couple of hours.

Chicken, pulled from its bones after simmering in water for about an hour.

Cilantro, soaking to remove dirt.

Chicken carcasses in water ready to be simmered.

Fat, scraped from a quart of chicken stock after sitting in the refrigerator overnight.

Stock, fat removed, ready to be frozen.

Homemade Chicken Stock

Note: As I mentioned above, making stock is as simple as throwing chickens in a pot, covering them with water, and letting them simmer for a few hours. Additions such as onions, carrots, celery, bay leaves, peppercorns, etc., of course, enhance the flavor of the stock, but if you don’t have them or don’t feel like adding them, it doesn’t matter.

These days, I simply remove the legs with their bones from a whole chicken (to be used for one meal) as well as the breasts (to be used for another meal) and throw the two wings and remaining carcass into the stock pot. (Watch the video here for help breaking down a chicken.) I cover these bones/meat with water and let simmer for about 2.5 hours without any additions (carrots, celery, etc.), and I get about 1.5 qts of really flavorful stock.

The below recipe is what my mother does, but truly, you don’t have to be so fussy.

3 lbs chicken, such as a whole chicken or wings or legs or just bones
2 stalks celery
2 carrots
1/2 tsp. whole peppercorns
1 bay leaf
1 onion, cut in half, studded with 4 cloves total (2 in each half)

1. Place chicken or chicken bones into a large pot. Add remaining ingredients. Cover with cold water. Bring to a boil, then turn down the heat so that the water is gently simmering. Scoop off and discard any scum that bubbles up at the surface. Let simmer for about 2 hours.

2. Place a colander over a large bowl. Pour contents of stock pot through the colander. Discard all of these pieces once they have cooled. Transfer stock to storage containers and place in the fridge overnight or until completely chilled and fat has formed a solid layer at the top of the container. Scoop off this fat and discard. Freeze stock or store in fridge for at least a week.

Mexican Tinga
Serves 8

1 3-4 lb. chicken
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 white onion, sliced
1 small can chipotles
in adobo sauce
1½ cups canned crushed tomatoes
2 cups chicken stock, low-sodium or homemade
kosher salt to taste
1 bunch cilantro

1. Place chicken in a large pot and cover with cold water. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat so the water just simmers, and cook for 45 minutes. Turn off heat and transfer chicken to a large bowl to cool. When chicken is completely cool, remove the meat from the skin and bones, and place in a clean bowl. (Place bones and skin in a pot, cover with water, and let simmer for several hours. Strain, and transfer the stock to plastic storage containers. Refrigerate overnight. The following day, scrape off the fat and discard. Freeze stock.)

2. In a medium-sized soup pot add the oil and place over medium heat. Sauté the onion over medium heat until slightly caramelized, about 5 minutes. Add 3 of the chipotles and 1 tablespoon of the sauce from the small can of chipotles (or, if you like spice, add the whole can as I did).

3. Stir for one minute until the onions are nicely coated in sauce, then add the tomatoes and chicken stock. Season with a pinch of salt, then add the chicken meat to the pot, breaking up the big chunks as you add the meat.

4. Bring the liquid to a boil, reduce heat and simmer mixture very gently for 30 minutes. Coarsely chop the cilantro, add to the pot and stir to incorporate. Taste mixture, add more salt if necessary. Can be made a day ahead. To reheat, simmer mixture very slowly adding chicken stock if liquid becomes too thick.

Onions and chipotles cooking before the chicken, stock and tomatoes are added.

So I don’t have much to report, just some random thoughts:

• I almost lost it today at Barnes & Nobles. I had a coupon for 20% off, something Ben had earned after purchasing a book on-line. After spending a half hour in BN, I went to the checkout carrying my goods, the Santa Monica Farmers’ Market Cookbook and Heat. The woman behind the register, endowed with bionic vision, looked at my coupon for one second and told me it had expired. I challenged. Today is the 18th, I said. This certificate expired at 6:56 EST, she said, 15 minutes ago. She cut me no slack and then tore my coupon in half. I was shocked.

The arugula from both the San Clemente and Laguna Hills farmers’ markets has been delectable. Look for smaller bunches, like this one pictured below – I was disappointed with a very large, extremely bitter tasting bunch I purchased a few weeks ago. Serve with a lemon vinaigrette and shaved Parmigiano Reggiano for a simple salad.

• Before Ben and I moved across country, I told many people I planned to work on a dairy farm once I got to California. I was going to learn how to milk cows and make cheese. Not a well-researched plan. As far as I can tell, there is one dairy operation in SoCal and it’s many miles from where I live.

• After reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, however, I now know I can make cheese at home. The book gives a recipe for making mozzarella in 30 minutes and recommends purchasing Cheesemaking Made Easy, a book filled with a host of other simple cheese recipes. It’s in the mail, and soon I hope to post about ordering bacterial cultures and making my own chevre, mozzarella, goat cheese, ricotta, etc. Yum.

This past Sunday morning, Ben and I enjoyed brunch at La Galette Creperie with several friends. I ordered the farmers’ plate, pictured below, and Ben ordered a bacon-, cheddar- and egg-filled crepe. Though Ben has recently declared he does not like crepes, he politely cleaned his plate.

• Last week, I saw a whale splashing about not too far from the San Clemente Pier – It was amazing!

• Mayonnaise: I like it. Not as a main ingredient in pasta or potato salad, but as a condiment. A couple teaspoons on a sandwich, I am rediscovering, makes such a difference.

• Do you ever feel there is nothing in your grocery-store meat department that is morally acceptable to buy for dinner? The February Bon Appetit, the “green” issue, lists a few eco-friendly meats: bison, grass-fed beef and heritage pork. Great, but I’m chastised if I send away for these meats. I’m going to a Roots of Change meeting tomorrow night to learn more about sustainable farming in Southern California. Will report back.

• And lastly, over the weekend, I read a very entertaining book: Skinny Bitch. I so badly want to quote the opening paragraph of one of the chapters (entitled “Pooping”), but feel I must refrain. This passage will make you laugh out loud. Please email me if you do not own the book and want to laugh. Lindsey and Mr. T., Meredith and Lisa, Bates and anyone else with a penchant for bathroom humor, please contact me.

Fajita Pasta
Serves 4

left-over roasted chicken or 2 bone-in, skin-on chicken breasts or thighs
olive oil
kosher salt
chile powder
1 T. olive oil
1 tsp. unsalted butter, plus more to taste
1 medium onion, peeled and thinly sliced
2 red peppers, cored and thinly sliced (green peppers would be fine too)
cilantro to taste, washed and coarsely chopped
1 lb. fresh pasta, such as the Delaney’s Culinary Fresh chipotle spaghetti
¼ cup to ½ cup Parmigiano Reggiano, grated

1. Preheat the oven to 425ºF. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Line a baking sheet with foil (for easy cleaning). Place the chicken on top. Drizzle with a little oil, and season with salt and chile powder to taste. Roast until done, about 15 to 20 minutes. Remove from oven and transfer to a plate to cool.

2. Meanwhile, heat the oil with the butter in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat until the butter begins to sizzle. Add the onions and peppers and sauté until tender and browned, but not caramelized (think fajitas — hot, charred peppers and onions in a smoking hot cast-iron skillet).

3. Meanwhile, remove the skin from the chicken and discard. Pull the meat from the bone and shred or cut into thin strips. Add the meat to the pan, season with salt, chile powder and cilantro to taste. Stir, then turn off heat. Transfer to a plate. Keep skillet on the stove.

4. Season the boiling water with a pinch of kosher salt. Cook the fresh pasta for 2 minutes. Just before draining, reserve one half cup of the cooking liquid. Drain the pasta but do not rinse. Place the cooking liquid in the skillet and place over high heat. Let reduce, scraping up any charred bits from the pan. Place the pasta in a large bowl. Add another teaspoon of butter and ¼ cup of the grated Parmigiano Reggiano. Add ¼ cup of the simmering cooking liquid and the pepper-chicken sauté, and toss gently to combine. Taste, adding more cooking liquid by the tablespoon and grated cheese in necessary.

5. Serve, passing more cheese and fresh-cracked pepper on the side.