They’re sort of one of those things you have to try to believe. When a friend proclaimed she and her husband (who has been known to drive 40 minutes for his favorite burger) preferred kale chips to potato chips and even to french fries, I had my doubts. It was about time I tried for myself, however. I’ve only been reading about these crisps on the blogosphere for about 3 years.
Well, what can I say? If you think you can’t eat a head of kale in one sitting, think again. You can, and you will. In fact you might find that one head is not enough for one sitting. And you might find that 8 heads of kale from the farmers’ market won’t suffice for the week. And you might find yourself panicking mid-week, making stops to your not-so-favorite market to preemptively restock your supply. I mean it. These kale chips are that good. It would make me so happy if you tried for yourself.
Crispy Kale Chips
Serves 1 to 2
1 bunch kale*
extra-virgin olive oil
*Of course bunches vary in size, but this recipe is not precise anyway. Also, there are many varieties of kale. I’ve made this recipe with at least 3 different varieties, and they all are delicious.
1. Preheat the oven to 350ºF. Tear kale into smallish-sized pieces as pictured above. Toss lightly with olive oil and kosher salt. Spread evenly on a sheet tray. Don’t be afraid to fill it up — it shrinks way down while it bakes (see picture below.)
2. Place sheet tray in the oven for about 15 minutes. Reach inside being careful not to burn yourself and feel the kale pieces. They should feel slightly crispy. If the pieces are not crispy at all, keep cooking for another couple of minutes.
3. Remove sheet tray from the oven and place on cooling rack for a minute or two. Eat! Once you make this recipe once or twice, you’ll discover how long it takes for a batch to cook. Some pieces will always be overcooked; some will be undercooked; but most will be delicious! Enjoy.
I think I found a magic sauce. It transformed my chicken-breast eating experience and now my rack-of-lamb-eating experience. Never would I have guessed that a simple stir of mayonnaise, mustard and some fresh herbs would play such a role in my meat-cooking endeavors these days. Seriously, everything this sauce touches turns to mouth-watering goodness.
Let’s see, how else can I sell this recipe to you? It takes five minutes to prepare. It’s foolproof. And if you enjoy gnawing on bones as if they were lollipops, this recipe is for you. Make it.
1 rack of lamb, about a pound
fresh cracked pepper
2 T. mayonnaise
2 tsp. mustard
chopped fresh herbs*: rosemary, thyme, chives, mint, tarragon — whatever you have
*Rosemary and lamb always go well together but I adore tarragon with this recipe as well.
1. Preheat the oven to 475ºF. Place lamb on a parchment-lined (for easy clean-up) rimmed baking sheet. Season with salt and pepper on all sides. Mix together mayo, mustard and herbs. Spread in an even layer across the rack of lamb — you might not need it all.
2. Place pan in the oven. Bake for 10 minutes, reduce heat to 400º and bake for 10 more minutes. Take pan out of the oven and place lamb on a board to rest. Let rest for at least 10 minutes. Seriously, no less than 10 minutes — I can’t emphasize resting enough. Cut and serve.
Notes: The lamb takes about 20 minutes to cook but depending on the size of the rack, the temperature of the lamb (room temperature or cold), and the reliability of your oven, the time will vary slightly. It might take a teensy bit of practice to nail it. For example, I made a rack today that weighed .92 lbs, and I removed it before the 20-minute mark because after 18 minutes it felt perfectly firm.
My baby bro is really funny. Last month when he came to visit, I fixed him some breakfast, a bowl of oatmeal with cinnamon and sliced banana, my favorite way to start the morning. I took a risk making him oatmeal — I knew that. I mean, it’s hard to compete with my mother who whips up plates of fried egg sandwiches on toasted homemade bread, slides them under her favorite child’s nose just minutes after he lounges into the kitchen mid-morning, not uttering a word but like some sort of magical magnet drawing cups of freshly brewed coffee and hot breakfast his way.
Oatmeal was a risk for sure. Even so, I expected a bit of a better reception. He took two bites, dipped his spoon in for a third, pushed it around a little bit, then scrunched up his face while nudging the bowl my direction and asked, “Will you eat it for me?” My baby bro is 25. I love him so much.
Well, like my mother, I feel this need to feed people — to make them happy with food — and when things don’t work out as planned, I feel disappointed. I felt a little depressed about the oatmeal. Next time he comes, I’m going to make him these muffins, my latest fix. I discovered this recipe in the November Bon Appetit’s RSVP section. They are delicious. After I made a batch of the batter, I baked off one a day in a paper-lined ramekin for about a week straight. What a treat!
I also made a teensy discovery. I didn’t have enough rolled oats for the recipe, so I substituted in steel cut oats for about half of the total. To my surprise, the steel cut oats added a nice crunch and reminded me of a favorite muffin I hadn’t thought about in years. Metropolitan Bakery in Philadelphia makes the most incredible millet muffins, and when I lived there, it was hard to pass by its doors without stopping in for one. I think I know which cookbook I need to add to my wishlist. A millet muffin sounds so good right now. Santa, I hope you’re reading.
Nonstick vegetable oil spray (or paper muffin liners, I like these)
2 1/3 cups quick-cooking cups (I have had success with all varieties of oats including using as much as a cup of steel cut oats)
1 cup whole wheat or white flour
1/2 cup (packed) dark brown sugar
1/2 cup sugar
2 tablespoons natural oat bran (if you have it)
2 tablespoons wheat germ (if you have it)
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 cup buttermilk
1/2 cup canola oil
1 large egg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/3 cup boiling water
Note: I made a batch of the muffin batter and baked off a muffin a day in a paper-lined ramekin. The batter tasted as good on day 8 as it did on day 1. It’s nice to know you can do this with muffin batter.
1. Preheat oven to 375°F. Spray 8 large muffin cups (1-cup capacity) or 18 standard muffin cups (1/3-cup capacity) with nonstick spray, or line them with paper muffin liners. (Note: I baked off these muffins in paper-lined ramekins. It worked beautifully.) Whisk oats and next 9 ingredients in large bowl. Add buttermilk, oil, egg, and vanilla; whisk to blend. Stir in 1/3 cup boiling water and let stand 5 minutes. Divide batter among prepared muffin cups.
2. Bake muffins until tester inserted into center comes out clean, about 28 minutes for large muffins and 20 minutes for standard muffins. Cool 10 minutes. Turn muffins out onto rack; cool. Serve warm or at room temperature.
Baby bro with baby doll. She adores her uncle. It’s so cute.
You all know it takes no time to whip up homemade applesauce, right? And you know how good it is, too, right? Just a quick little post here to make sure. I’ve been enlisted to make applesauce for this Thanksgiving so I’ve been practicing.
Oh, there is one stipulation. You sort of need one of these, a Foley food mill. They’re cheap, which is good, because it will likely sit in your cupboard for 10 months out of the year. I only use mine to make applesauce. Am I missing something? Are there other recipes out there requiring a food mill? If you know of any, please share.
Also, I’m afraid my mother would be deeply disappointed if I didn’t mention one thing: Apples top the “Dirty Dozen” list. And apparently, scrubbing and peeling doesn’t eliminate chemical residue completely, and you definitely want to keep the skins on when you make applesauce — that’s where all the flavor lives. So with apples, it is ideal if you can purchase organic or if you can purchase from your local-but-perhaps-not-certified-organic-though-organic-in-every-sense-of-the-word apple farmer. Make sense?
Yield= A Lot
3 lbs. apples, about 8 to 10 apples*
1 cup water
1. So, there isn’t really a recipe here, just a method. Cut apples into big chunks — cut straight down around the core and discard it. Place them in a large pot with about a cup of water. Cover the pot, bring it to a boil, reduce the heat to medium, and simmer until the apples are very tender, about 20 minutes. This can take more or less time depending on the variety of apples you’ve chosen to use and the number of apples you have jammed in the pot. After you make this once or twice, you will have a better sense of the water-to-apple ratio.
2. Once the apples are tender, spoon them into the food mill in smallish batches. Start cranking. You may or may not need all of the liquid remaining in the pot. That’s it. You’re done!
*Any variety of apples will do, but I have been partial to Fuji and Lady Pink, because I can get those varieties at my farmers’ market.
I haven’t been drawn to a recipe like this in awhile. It’s not that butternut squash with sage brown butter doesn’t sound insanely delicious — seriously, what sounds better this time of year? — it’s just that these days my brain surrenders and my eyes cross when I see too many steps in a recipe. I’m better off sticking to quick and easy (also insanely delicious).
But if you’re in the mood for this sort of thing — for planning, thinking, going all out to capture the essence of the season in a single dish — this is the recipe for you. You won’t be disappointed. Lidia Bastianich nailed it. Just as I was feeling the slightest bit uninspired, the October Bon Appetit arrived in my mailbox. Five minutes later, I ran out the door to buy a ricer, which has been on my wishlist for months. I had been told a ricer would change my life.
So far, it has.
Butternut Squash Gnocchi with Sage Brown Butter
Source: Lidia Bastianich via Bon Appetit This recipe along with a few others I am dying to try appeared in the October 2010 Bon Appetit. If you’re feeling even the slightest bit uninspired, this is a good little spread to check out.
Serves 4 to 6
1 1-pound butternut squash
1 tablespoon olive oil
1-2 12- to 14-ounce russet potato, peeled, quartered
3/4 cup finely grated Parmesan cheese, divided
1 large egg, beaten to blend
1 1/2 teaspoons freshly grated nutmeg
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 3/4 cups (or more) all purpose flour
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter (I used less)
2 tablespoons chopped fresh sage
Additional grated Parmesan cheese
Potato ricer (I bet a food mill would work well, too.)
1. It helps to really read the recipe thoroughly before beginning.
2. You will have tons of leftover butternut squash.
3. I needed about 2 potatoes to get 2 cups.
4. I find it easier to cook gnocchi in small batches, so I think this meal makes a better dinner-for-two than a dinner-for-a-crowd. After I filled up one sheetpan with shaped gnocchi, I stuck in the freezer. After an hour or so, I scooped all of the gnocchi into a Ziplock bag and stored it in the freezer, where it now awaits for a future dinner.
5. Seeing how a friend and I polished off half the gnocchi in a single sitting, I feel the recipe more accurately serves 4.
1. Preheat oven to 400°F. Cut squash lengthwise in half; discard seeds. Place squash halves, cut side up, on baking sheet and brush with oil. Roast until squash is very tender when pierced with skewer and browned in spots, about 1 1/2 hours. Cool slightly. Scoop flesh from squash into processor; puree until smooth. Transfer to medium saucepan; stir constantly over medium heat until juices evaporate and puree thickens, about 5 minutes. Cool. Measure 1 cup (packed) squash puree (reserve remaining squash for another use). Note: This can be made several days in advance.
2. Meanwhile, cook potato in medium saucepan of boiling salted water until very tender, less than 20 minutes. Drain. While potato is warm, press through potato ricer into medium bowl; cool completely. Measure 2 cups (loosely packed) riced potato (reserve remaining potato for another use).
3. Mix squash, potato, 1/2 cup Parmesan, egg, nutmeg, and salt in large bowl. Gradually add 1 3/4 cups flour, kneading gently into mixture in bowl until dough holds together and is almost smooth. If dough is very sticky, add more flour by tablespoonfuls. Turn dough out onto floured surface; knead gently but briefly just until smooth. Divide dough into 8 equal pieces.
4. Line 2 large rimmed baking sheets with parchment. Sprinkle parchment lightly with flour. Working with 1 dough piece at a time, roll dough out on floured surface to about 1/2-inch-thick rope. Cut rope crosswise into 3/4-inch pieces. Working with 1 piece at a time, roll gnocchi along back of fork tines dipped in flour, making ridges on 1 side. Transfer gnocchi to baking sheets. Repeat with remaining dough. Cover loosely with plastic wrap and chill at least 1 hour. DO AHEAD Can be made 6 hours ahead. Keep chilled. Note: Gnocchi can be frozen at this point – freeze them first on a sheetpan, then transfer them to a Ziplock to prevent them from sticking together.
5. Working in 2 batches, cook gnocchi in large pot of boiling salted water until very tender, 15 to 17 minutes (gnocchi will float to surface but may come to surface before being fully cooked). Using slotted spoon, transfer gnocchi to same parchment-lined baking sheets. Cool. DO AHEAD Can be made 8 hours ahead. Cover loosely and chill. Note: It was hard for me to tell when they were done. I cooked them for about 12 minutes — I took one out, tasted it, and went with it.)
6. Cook butter in heavy large skillet over medium heat just until golden, stirring often, 3 to 4 minutes. Add sage; stir 1 minute. Add gnocchi; cook until heated through and coated with butter, 5 to 7 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Transfer to bowl. Sprinkle with 1/4 cup Parmesan. Serve with additional Parmesan. Note: Unless you have an enormous pan, it’s easier to cook the gnocchi and butter in smaller batches. Half of this recipe in one pan is doable.
Fresh corn polenta — oh fresh corn polenta! How could I have forgotten about you? I discovered you this time last year. I was out to eat. You were in my bowl. It was love at first bite. You were the very best polenta I had ever tasted, your sweet corn flavor discernible even through the jus of the pair of braised short ribs smothering you. How could this be, I wondered? I chalked it up to lots of butter and cheese and the sort of restaurant trickery that just can’t be duplicated at home. And so I forgot about you. For a whole year. Oh fresh corn polenta! I’m so happy you’re back in my life. In my home no less. And for good this time.
This is the sort of recipe I want to tell everyone about. I want to call all of my friends and family. I want to spark up conversation with people in checkout lines, knock on my neighbors’ doors, stop strangers in the street. It is so good and much to my surprise calls for no sort of restaurant magic — just a box grater, a little butter, and a sauté pan. It’s the kind of thing I could eat every night for dinner, and this week I basically have. I love it with sautéed greens or with a poached egg or just on its own with some cracked pepper and parmesan cheese. Before the season ends, I hope to try it with some sautéed mushrooms, too, which is how they serve it at La Toque, the source of this wonderful recipe.
You’ll discover it takes no time to whip up, just a little elbow grease during preparations — grating the ears of corn can be tiring. With that in mind, this is not a dish to make for company. It is the perfect dinner-for-1 or-2. It is simple and delicious. It is restaurant worthy certainly, but comfort food at its core. And I hope it will leave you wondering, as it has left me, where have you been all my life?
One ear’s worth of grated corn:
I found this recipe from The View from the Bay online. There’s a little video included on the website, which is sort of helpful to watch, but not critical. The original recipe hails from La Toque, where they serve it with sautéed chanterelles. Yum Yum Yum.
1. Clean the corn, removing all husks and threads. Working over a large bowl, grate the kernels off of the cob on the coarse side of a box grater. You will have a very wet coarse pulpy mixture.
2. Melt the butter in a small saucepan over medium heat. Add the grated corn and season with a good pinch of salt. Simmer over low heat, stirring to prevent browning, for about 3 minutes. The mixture is ready when it just begins to thicken and set.
3. Top with some grated Parmigiano Reggiano and/or a poached egg or some sautéed greens.
I’m spoiled. Really spoiled. I live in a place where even tomatoes still taste good this time of year. I’m not trying to rub it in, just expressing my gratitude.
I do realize, however, we are approaching mid-October and already the idea of cool, raw, crisp veggies in a salad might not sound so appealing. But even so, sometimes there’s nothing more satisfying for dinner than a big salad and some warm bread. If you find yourself craving this sort of meal in these colder months, here’s what I suggest adding: sautéed corn.
At least twice a week these days, I top a big salad — usually some sort of combination of roasted red peppers, boiled fingerlings, diced orange, shaved zucchini, sliced avocado, a little lettuce and some goat or blue cheese — with an ear’s worth of sautéed corn. The warm corn ever so slightly melts the cheese and wilts the lettuce, making a lovely combination on its own even more delectable. It is so delicious. Top it all off with a poached egg or some broiled sliced chicken and you have a nice meal on your hands.
And I know you all know how to make salad dressing but this is what I’ve been doing recently based on a long-time favorite recipe in Alice Waters’ Chez Panisse Vegetables, which calls for macerating shallots before whisking in the oil:
Finely chop a shallot and place it in a bowl. Squeeze two oranges over the shallot. Sprinkle the mixture with a little salt, a pinch of sugar and a splash of vinegar. Crack some pepper over top and let sit for 20 minutes. After the 20 minutes, slowly drizzle in olive oil whisking constantly while doing so. Taste every so often to gauge how much more olive oil to add. I like a ratio of about 2 parts oil to one part juice or vinegar. Pour it all into a jar and you have dressing on your hands for the week. Nice.
1 ear of corn, kernels removed
extra virgin olive oil
Heat a skillet over high heat. Add olive oil. When it begins swirling in the pan, add the corn and season it to taste with kosher salt. Don’t stir the corn until it begins to pop — about 45 seconds to a minute after it has been added to the pan. When it begins popping, give it a good stir and remove from the heat. That’s it. It’s done — 1 to 2 minutes total.
After sautéed corn, roasted cauliflower is my most current obsession. It’s delicious right out of the oven. The crispy salty charred bits are as yummy as french fries. Leftover cauliflower dipped in hummus makes a nice snack.
Serves 1 to 2
1 head cauliflower, florets removed from stem
extra-virgin olive oil
Preheat the oven to 450ºF. Spread the florets of cauliflower on a rimmed baking sheet. Toss with olive oil and season with salt (I tend to be liberal with the salt on these guys). Place sheet in the oven for 15 minutes. After the 15 minutes, check on the cauliflower, giving it a stir or flipping the florets over if desired. Cook for 5 minutes longer.
Have you ever tried purslane? It’s just about the healthiest thing on the planet. Here’s a little rundown:
In the 1980s, Artemis Simopoulos, author of The Omega Diet, discovered that purslane, a wild green, contained high amounts of omega-3 fatty acids, leading her to suspect that animals feasting on these greens might also be a rich source of this essential fatty acid. To test her theory, Dr. Simopoulos hard-boiled a few eggs laid by free-ranging chickens living on her family farm in Greece and brought them back to the National Institute of Health for analysis. The free-ranging eggs, she discovered, contained 20 times more omega-3 fatty acids than supermarket eggs. Simopoulos’ findings, printed in several high-profile journals, inspired egg producers across the country, most notably George Bass of The Country Hen, to feed their chickens fish oil and flax seed, two foods loaded with omega-3 fatty acids.
Careful. These are addictive. They’ve got that sweet-salty dynamic, but also a hint of rosemary, a savory touch that might lead you to eat ten of them, as you would a cracker. Try not to do that.
Man these are so good. I’m never crazy about breaking out the food processor — so many parts to clean and all — but this machine makes this recipe effortless. It literally takes five minutes to prepare.
If you’re like me, you won’t want to share these with anyone, but they would make a wonderful gift. According to Melissa Clark’s NY Times article in December 2005, these shortbread cookies are her all-occasion go-to gift:
“A friend’s birthday? A box of shortbread cookies wrapped in colored tissue. A colleague’s dinner party? A hostess gift of a vintage tin filled with shortbreads. The holidays? Many, many bright-hued bags filled with shortbread and tied with ribbons.”
Yesterday, feeling inspired, I fashioned a little package out of parchment paper and cooking twine. Then I tucked two squares inside, made a cute little tag, and wrapped it all up. Later that day, I opened the package and ate the treats. As I said, I didn’t want to share these with anyone.
Mmmmm … shortbread. These treats would be perfect with a cup of tea in the afternoon, but are delightful any time of the day really. What’s more, they stay fresh for days though they’ll likely be gone before showing any signs of age. Holiday season is rapidly approaching — practice making these pouches now, and you’ll be golden come December.
I love parchment paper. Have you ever tried to tape it, however? Nothing sticks to it. To make this package, I improvised with a hole punch and some cooking twine. Just fold up a piece of parchment paper to the size of your liking, punch holes in the sides, thread any sort of ribbon or string through the holes and make knots on one side. Ta-da! With some cute ribbon, these packages could be really darling.
With this recipe, you just have to be careful not to over pulse the dough. This is about what it should look like:
The dough is still very crumbly when you pat it into the pan.
Yield: One 8- or 9-inch shortbread, about 16 pieces
Source: Melissa Clark of the NY Times
2 cups all-purpose flour
2/3 cup granulated sugar
1 scant tablespoon of finely chopped fresh rosemary (see photo above)
1 teaspoon plus 1 pinch kosher salt
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted cold butter, cut into 1-inch chunks
1 1/2 tsp. honey
1. Heat oven to 325ºF. In a food processor, pulse together flour, sugar, rosemary and salt. Add butter and honey, and pulse to fine crumbs. Pulse a few more times until some crumbs start to come together, but don’t overprocess. Dough should not be smooth.
2. Press dough into an ungreased (or parchment paper-lined for easy removal) 8- or 9-inch-square baking pan. Prick dough all over with a fork. Bake until golden brown, 35 to 40 minutes for 9-inch pan, 45 to 50 minutes for 8-inch. Transfer to a wire rack to cool. Cut into squares, bars or wedges while still warm.
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
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
• 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.
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.