High Heels & Frijoles

I’m always on the lookout for ingredients that’ll cover up chicken breasts – i.e. my least favorite thing to eat other than tripe – and the ketchup-prune preserve sauce I glazed that meatloaf with a few days ago was a pretty convincing disguise. Shred your leftover chicken and make a sandwich for lunch the next day. Inspired, I know. And yes, of course, there’s bacon in it.

SWEET & TANGY ONION-SMOTHERED CHICKEN
Serves 4 (or 2 plus leftovers)
You can substitute apricot jam for the prune preserves.

1 cup ketchup
½ cup prune preserves or jam
¼ cup brown sugar
3 tablespoons cider vinegar
¼ teaspoon red pepper flakes
4 bacon slices, coarsely chopped
2 medium onions, peeled, halved lengthwise, and thinly sliced
Salt and pepper
4 bone-in, skin-on chicken breasts, halved crosswise

- Whisk the ketchup, preserves, 3 tablespoons brown sugar, vinegar, and red pepper flakes in a small bowl; set aside.

- Cook the bacon in a large skillet over medium heat until crispy, 6 to 8 minutes. Transfer bacon pieces to a paper towel-lined plate with a slotted spoon; reserve. Pour the bacon fat out into a bowl; reserve.

- Add 1 tablespoon of the reserved bacon fat to the now empty skillet and heat over medium-high heat until shimmering.  Add the onions, remaining 1 tablespoon brown sugar, ¼ teaspoon salt, and ¼ teaspoon pepper and cook until the onions begin to soften, about 5 minutes. Cover and continue cooking until completely softened, about 5 minutes more.  Transfer the onions to a bowl.

- Add an additional tablespoon of the reserved bacon fat to the now empty skillet. Season the chicken with salt and pepper and cook, skin-side down, until browned, about 5 minutes. Add the onions to the chicken. Pour the sauce over the chicken and onions, cover, and cook on medium-low heat until the chicken is cooked through, 15 to 20 minutes (temperature should read 160˚F). Transfer the chicken to a platter and cover it loosely with foil.  Increase the heat to high and simmer the sauce until slightly thickened, about 5 minutes. Stir any accumulated chicken juices to sauce and pour over chicken. Sprinkle with reserved bacon and serve.

Arroz con pollo means chicken-and-rice, but the colorful flavors and ingredients of the popular Nicaraguan dish are lost in this very literal translation.  Also called arroz a la valenciana (probably a nod to Spanish colonizers and paella) arroz con pollo is a mixture of the title ingredients, plus ham, sausage, pimento-stuffed olives, capers, peas, carrots, and bell peppers. Topped with a generous grating of Parmesan cheese and often served with buttered toast, it’s one of my favorite things to eat; maybe it’ll become one of yours, too.

ARROZ con POLLO or ARROZ a la VALENCIANA
Serves 8 to 12
This is a somewhat involved recipe, but it makes piles of food; great for a big family, a casual dinner party, or days’ worth of leftovers. The recipe can be easily cut in half if the yield seems excessive.

Some shortcuts: Rather than cooking carrots with rice, add 2 cups of frozen peas-and-carrots to the mixture.  Buy a rotisserie chicken and low-sodium chicken broth instead of poaching your own fresh chicken pieces.

For the Chicken:
4 pounds bone-in, skin-on chicken pieces or 1 4- to 5-pound chicken, cut into 8 pieces
Salt
1 large onion, peeled and cut into wedges
1 green bell pepper, seeded and quartered
4 garlic cloves, peeled and smashed
2 teaspoons black peppercorns

- Place chicken pieces in large soup pot or Dutch oven. Season with salt and cover with cold water (chicken should be submerged 2 inches). Add onion, bell pepper, garlic, and peppercorns. Bring to a boil over high heat, then immediately reduce heat to medium-low and simmer until chicken is cooked through (temperature should read 160˚F), 30 to 35 minutes.

- Transfer chicken to large bowl. When it’s cool enough to handle, remove and discard the skin and bones and shred the chicken into bite-sized pieces. The chicken may be poached one day in advance: To store, add 3 cups broth to shredded chicken, cool to room temperature, cover with plastic, and refrigerate.

- Strain broth and reserve. Discard solids.

For the Rice:
2 tablespoons butter
1 medium onion, finely chopped
2 teaspoons salt
2 cups long-grain white rice
2 medium carrots, peeled and cut into small dice
2 tablespoons tomato paste
4 cups chicken broth

- Melt 2 tablespoons butter in a medium saucepan.  Add the onion and salt and cook until softened, about 5 minutes. Stir in rice, carrots, and tomato paste. Add broth and bring to a boil. Continue to boil until most of the liquid has evaporated and you can see small bubbles on the surface (see How to Make Rice).  Reduce heat to lowest setting, cover, and cook for 15 minutes. Fluff rice with chopsticks or fork and remove from heat.

For the Arroz con Pollo:
2 tablespoons butter
8 ounces Lil’ Smokies or Kielbasa sausage, cut into 1-inch pieces
1 medium onion, finely chopped
1 green or red bell pepper, seeded and finely chopped
2 tablespoons tomato paste
¼ cup ketchup
Shredded chicken (see above)
¼ pound deli ham, chopped
1/3 cup capers, drained
1/3 cup pimento-stuffed olives, sliced
1 ½ cups frozen peas
Cooked rice (see above)

- Melt butter in a large skillet or Dutch oven. Add sausage and sauté until browned, about 5 minutes. Transfer to plate.

- Add onion and bell pepper to now empty skillet and cook until softened, about 8 minutes. Add tomato paste, chicken, ham, capers, olives, peas, and rice, stirring to combine thoroughly. Cook, stirring occasionally, to allow flavors to meld, 10 to 15 minutes.  Season to taste with salt.

- Serve with grated Parmesan cheese and white buttered toast.

Because my job entails eating at approximately 15-minute intervals throughout the day, I usually feel a violent burning, gnawing sensation in my stomach by the end of the day – think John Hurt’s exploding torso in Alien. Whether this uncomfortable feeling is a result of overeating or merely my belly asking for more, Sensible Me always hops on the train thinking “You will have a green salad for dinner. And maybe some fruit for dessert.” As I sweat out my toxins in the hot yoga room, Sensible Me only wants a glass of water and luxuriates in the thought that my body is being exorcised of all the excess butter and sodium I had during the day. Sensible Me walks home and wants nothing to do with food.

15 minutes later…Sensible Me has abandoned all Lean Cuisine thoughts, busts through the door and whines, “I’m staaaaaarviiiing!!!!” I start eating everything in sight. Peanuts. Macadamia nuts. Cold leftover rice. Orange juice straight from the carton. I eventually make dinner, but, oh, how nice it is when I get home and a Special Someone has made dinner. Leafy greens and all.

CRISPY CHICKEN CUTLETS & BALSAMIC RED ONIONS

Balsamic Red Onions
Serves 2

1 large red onion
3 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
1 tablespoon olive oil
salt and pepper

- Preheat oven to 400 degrees
- Cut onion in half, and then into half-inch wedges
- Place in medium or large bowl
- Add vinegar and olive oil
- Season with salt and pepper
- Toss well
- Place into square or round pyrex dish
- Cook for 30 to 40 minutes.  At 15 minutes, stir onions to ensure they’ve broken loose

Chicken cutlets
Serves 4

4 large boneless skinless chicken breasts
2 eggs
1 cup flour
2 cups bread crumbs
salt and pepper
½ cup vegetable oil
1 lemon

- Large chicken breasts can take too long to cook, leaving the inside raw and the breadcrumbs burnt.  To avoid this, either cut the chicken breasts in half or preferably just flatten them with a wooden mallet.  But before you start hammering away, place a sheet of Saran wrap on top of the chicken breast to avoid making a mess.

- Trim the chicken breasts

- The most efficient way to make breaded chicken cutlets is to setup the ingredients and do one chicken breast at a time:

- Season each chicken breast on both sides with salt and pepper
- Beat both eggs well in a shallow soup bowl
- Cover inside of large plate with coat of flour
- Cover inside of another large plate with coat of breadcrumbs

- First, lightly dredge chicken breast in flour, just enough to coat it.  Then, dip chicken breast, one side at a time in egg; let excess drip off.  Finally, dredge chicken breast in bread crumbs, making sure that it is completely covered.  Set on a clean plate to let crumbs set.  Finish this process before starting to cook chicken.

- Heat up ¼ cup of oil in large skillet on medium-high heat.  Once oil begins to smoke put in two cutlets and lower heat to medium until golden brown, about 5 minutes.  Turn over and cook other side.  If oil is too dark, clean pan and pour in fresh ¼ cup of oil.  Cook remaining cutlets.

- Slice lemon for garnish.  I like a little lemon juice on top to add some acidity.

Serve with an avocado to balance onions and salad to feel healthy about what you’re eating

Arroz aguado (watery or soft rice) is a dish I was none too happy to eat when I was little. Its mushy texture and bland flavors were well suited to the flu-ish and hungover, but not to people whose tastebuds were unimpaired and stomachs weren’t queasy. Arroz aguado is basically chicken soup to which rice has been added and cooked until its blown out and soft. The harsh winds and chilly temperatures of early spring have made me reconsider this recipe, however, and it is now a very welcome addition to the table.

ARROZ AGUADO

1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 onion, chopped
3 celery stalks, thinly sliced
3 carrots, cut into ½”-thick slices
2 whole canned plum tomatoes, sliced into ½”-thick slices, plus 2 tablespoons juice
4 cloves garlic, smashed
Salt and pepper
2 bone-in, skin-on split chicken breasts, cut in half crosswise
4 bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs (or 4 drumsticks)
4 cups chicken broth
3 cups water
1 cup long-grain white rice
2 sprigs fresh mint
3 medium red potatoes, scrubbed and cut into 1” cubes
1 medium zucchini, quartered lengthwise and cut into ½”-thick slices

Bright garnishes like mint, cilantro, and lime juice will brighten the arroz aguado — top each bowl or pass at the table.

¼ cup fresh mint, chopped
¼ cup fresh cilantro, chopped
2 limes, cut into wedges
1 ripe avocado, cut into ¼” cubes
Pickled jalapeño chiles

-Heat oil in large Dutch oven or soup pot over medium-high heat until shimmering. Add onion, celery, carrots, tomatoes and juice, garlic, and 1 teaspoon salt and cook, stirring, until onion is softened, 5 to 7 minutes.

-Season chicken with salt and pepper and add to pot. Add broth, water, rice, and sprigs of fresh mint; stir and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium-low and maintain a low simmer, skimming surface from time to time, and cook until chicken is cooked through, about 45 minutes.With tongs, remove chicken and place in bowl. Remove and discard mint sprigs.

-Stir potatoes and zucchini into soup and cook until tender, about 15 minutes.

-Meanwhile, using 2 forks, carefully remove and discard skin and bones. Shred chicken and return to pot. Adjust seasonings with salt and pepper.

-Serve in bowls and garnish with mint and cilantro. Serve with limes, avocado, and jalapeños.

Note: When reheating leftovers, add a bit more broth to the stew as the rice may become blown out as it rests.

Kentucky Fried Chicken is a thing of the past to me. I don’t have beef with that fast food chain in particular – although that rat infestation at a downtown New York City branch a summer or two ago was pretty bad – but for one reason or other, that red-and-white bucket hasn’t graced my dinner table in many a moon. However, the memory of the Colonel’s secret 11-herbs-and-spices recipe is forever embedded in my brain and taste buds.

I’ve eaten fried chicken several times at my paternal grandmother’s house – pollo a la canasta (basket-style chicken – perhaps alluding to a picnic basket?) in local parlance – and it appeared every now and then at home. Also, there’s a chicken chain in Nicaragua called Tip-Top that built its fame on fried chicken, and once in a while on Sundays we’d have lunch there on our way to my grandparents’ house in Granada. All were good and had that homemade touch, but that was just the problem, they were very obviously homemade and lacking that extra-crispy skin. I wanted the Colonel’s secret.

None of my kitchens have ever witnessed fried chicken. I was always afraid of the stink all the frying would produce, I had concerns about flabby skin and undercooked chicken, I didn’t have a recipe I trusted, etc. etc. Fried chicken was just not an option. The closest I ever got was buying Tyson’s breaded chicken fingers. And I baked those.

Last week, though, as people at work geared up for the long 4th of July weekend, I got a hankering for fried chicken. I don’t have a grill, so barbecue was out, and fried chicken seemed to be a very all-American, very apropos thing to make. I was so caught up in the idea that I didn’t even consider my previous fears and hesitations. And, as luck and fate would have it, I came across a special issue of Cook’s Illustrated titled “American Classics.” There on the cover, was the most beautiful, textured, mahogany-colored plate of fried chicken I’ve ever seen. There was no stopping me now; I would become the Colonel.

Preparation is a bit intense, but, so worth it. I made one bird and ate most of it – with the help of the husband – in two sittings. We miraculously had a leftover breast which we ate out of the fridge the next day and though not warm and as crunchy, it remained incredibly finger lickin’ good. Make it for a crowd – spread the love.

FRIED CHICKEN
Adapted from Cook’s Illustrated

As I mentioned above, the prep time is a bit lengthy, but cooking goes by in a flash – and it’s not smelly, believe it or not. Make sure you have at least one grid rack, and instant read thermometer.

½ cup plus 2 tablespoons table salt
¼ cup sugar
2 tablespoons paprika
3 medium garlic heads, cloves separated
3 bay leaves
2 quarts low-fat buttermilk
1 whole chicken (about 3 ½ pounds), giblets discarded, cut into 12 pieces (each breast cut in half crosswise, thighs and drumsticks separated, wings cut into two pieces)
4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1 large egg
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
3 – 4 cups refined peanut oil or vegetable shortening

-In large zipper-lock bag, combine salt, sugar, paprika, garlic cloves, and bay leaves. With rubber mallet or flat meat pounder, smash garlic into salt and spice mixture thoroughly. Pour mixture into large plastic container or nonreactive stockpot. Add 7 cups buttermilk and stir until salt and sugar are completely dissolved. Immerse chicken and refrigerate 2 to 3 hours.

-Remove chicken from buttermilk brine and shake off excess, discarding any garlic and bay leaf bits. Place chicken pieces in single layer on a large wire rack set over a rimmed baking sheet. Refrigerate, uncovered, for 2 hours. (You can refrigerate in for an additional 6 hours – just make sure you cover chicken with plastic wrap).

-Measure flour into large shallow dish. Beat egg, baking powder, and baking soda in medium bowl; stir in remaining 1 cup buttermilk (mixture will bubble and foam). Working in batches of 3, drop chicken pieces in flour and shake dish to evenly coat. Shake excess flour from each piece, then, using tongs, dip chicken pieces into egg mixture, turning to coat well and allowing excess to drip off. Coat chicken pieces with flour again, shake off excess, and return to wire rack.

-Line large plate with double layer paper towels. Heat oil (oil should be 2 ½ inches deep in pan) to 375˚F over medium-high heat in large 8-quart cast-iron Dutch oven with a diameter of about 12 inches. (I made mine in a 4-quart capacity and had no trouble – just make sure you can safely add the oil and chicken without causing an overflow).
Place half the chicken pieces skin-side down in oil, cover, reduce heat to medium, and fry until deep golden brown, 6 to 8 minutes. After about 3 minutes, uncover the pan, lift the chicken pieces with tongs to check for even browning; rearrange the pieces if some are cooking faster than others. Check the oil’s temperature – at this point it should be at about 325˚F.

-Once the first side is deep golden brown, turn the pieces and cook the opposite side 6 to 8 minutes, uncovered. Transfer to paper towel-lined plate, allow to drain, then transfer to wire rack.

-Meanwhile, bring the oil back up to 375˚F and cook the remaining chicken in the same manner.

-Devour.

I seared a breast of chicken
It wasn’t very good.
How is that rubber
Can masquerade as food?

It’s still cold around these parts, although yesterday I did see a few shy buds on a scrawny tree; a glimmer of hope that spring may actually arrive in the next few weeks. The weather being what it is, stewed and braised dishes are still acceptable, in my opinion. I made beer stew a few days ago and last night I gave coq au Riesling – or a version of it – a go. I’ve taken quite a liking to Riesling, and if it can be cooked up, all the better. The resulting dish was delightful and although stews and their immediate family conjure up drifts of snow and cozy fireplaces, the leeks and white sauce put a spring in this dish’s step.

In French Regional Cooking Anne Willan takes a whole chicken and cuts it up into eight pieces, browns them, flambés with a bit of cognac, adds Riesling, and cooks. Cream and an egg yolk (for thickening) are added to the pot at the end to make a sauce, and mushrooms are the only vegetable present in the recipe.
Gourmet published a chicken in Riesling recipe in March of this year and their version includes leeks, carrots, and potatoes. I opted for this garniture and added peas as well; perhaps not entirely traditional, but so finger lickin’ good that The Mister and I wound up using spoons to avoid wasting even a single drop of the sauce. It was so good it should be served as soup!

As usual, there were leftovers (if you’re planning on eating leftovers, by the by, forego finishing sauces with an egg yolk, because when you reheat and bring up to a boil, the egg will curdle and you’ll have something more akin to egg drop soup than satiny sauce) and I had a genius idea: chicken pot pie! I would shred the leftover chicken, mix it with the vegetables and sauce, cover it with a crust and bake.

I was giving myself a mental high five for being so resourceful until I started rolling out the dough. What a mess. I had a bag of organic whole grain pastry flour and thought, hey, now would be the ideal occasion for you to test it. I’ve only ever worked with all-purpose, whole wheat, and cake flour, but the bag said that this flour was specifically for pastry, that it would be “perfect for flaky and delicate pastries and cakes,” so there was no reason for me to be apprehensive about using it.

I made the dough in the usual manner for a 9″ mold – 200 g. flour, 100 g. butter, 2 egg, and a few teaspoons of water. I wrapped it up, let it rest in the fridge, and then took out the rolling pin. That’s when disaster struck. The dough was cracking and refused to extend in that lovely, smooth way that I’m accustomed to. I wound up scraping it off the counter with a spatula and cobbling it back together on top of the chicken filling. I was angry and ashamed. I’ve made dozens of pie crusts and none of them have ever been this unfit to be seen. Into the oven the pie went anyway.

Things are not looking good.

About a half hour later Frankenpie was ready.

And what a sorry sight he was.

Regardless, I served him up and was, surprisingly, very pleased. This organic, whole grain flour yielded a crust that crumbled like no ordinary flour. Raw, the flour looks a lot like sand, and in pastry form those little grains shatter and crunch gloriously. The whole grain gave it a deeply satisfying, robust, nutty flavor. I guess I’ll make more crusts with this four (Arrowhead Mills) but will stick with the recipe on the back of the bag, which instructs the baker to press the dough right into the pan rather than rolling it out.

Whole grain pastry flour vs bleached all-purpose.

Some children dream of becoming astronauts. Others aspire to being ballerinas. I had loftier ambitions: to de-bone a chicken. When I began culinary school I thought – wrongly – that removing every single bone from a chicken while leaving it whole would be part of Basic Cookery 101. Crestfallen, I set my book aside and came to the conclusion that de-boning was perhaps an art reserved only for the most masterful of chefs, a process that was only known to a small, exclusive circle. I had resigned myself to live in a world where only bony chickens were served.

And then, one day, the rain cloud that loomed over my bowed head parted and a ray of sunshine broke through: my beloved chef instructor announced that he was going to teach us the coveted procedure. If anything, this one bit of learning has made culinary school worth it.

Doesn’t it look grand?

P.S.
I also made whole-wheat dinner rolls…one of my Thanksgiving trial runs.