i know… we’re in the throes of the holidays and here i am giving you the kind of post you might more be expecting in january. this modest, even unassuming soup is a fine example of the simple comfort food that everyone craves after all the excess and extravaganza that will ring out the year. but for me, even amidst all the decadence, there would be few things on my list that could ever equal the magnificence that is this soup.

imagine. if you had a cold and then you crossed my beloved jewish grandma julia with someone else’s italian nonna, i’m thinking that whatever she’d be cooking for you might look a little something like what you see here.

and really, all i’m saying is that sometimes, sniffles or not, in between all the festivity, undoubtedly filled with an array of benton’s bacon wrapped dates, hudson valley foie gras on pain de mie toast points, baked wheels of brie with fig jam on top, wine braised lamb shanks and slow roasted loins of meat – possibly followed up with a very beloved christmas eve lasagna = not to mention what you may have on the menu for your new year’s celebration… well, you might just want soup.

and of them all, to me this one reigns supreme.

i threw a whole chicken in the pot along with a rough chopped onion, some carrots, bay leaves, cracked peppercorns and salt. after about 90 minutes i removed most of the meat from the carcass and put it off to the side, putting all the bones back in and letting it go for about another 3 hours at barely a simmer. then i added some parsley, thyme and garlic for the last 40 minutes or so.

i strained the broth through a damp towel lined chinois, discarding everything solid and when the liquid was cooled i defatted the stock by about 90%. about 30 minutes before serving i warmed the broth and chopped up some fresh fennel, collard greens and carrots, adding back the all the shredded chicken and lastly i made trofie pasta, keeping it al dente so as not to soften up too much in the soup.

i loved it. deeply…

(a special thanks to chef bob del grosso for his willingness to both coach and reassure me when i am clueless…which is often.)

my mom just sent me keller’s latest book ‘ad hoc’. she knew i wanted this one and sure enough it showed up at my door – a heavy box from barnes & noble with a gift wrapped package inside bearing a little note that said, "because i love you". i’d recently surprised her in nyc for her 75th birthday and this was a delightful thank you. i suppose it could have been a ‘first night of (c)hanukah’ gift, but those days of a-gift-a-night for 8 nights, long the envy of my goyim friends – are long behind me, now replaced by one signed check. which funny enough, always fits me perfectly.

she also knows i’m a big fan of thomas keller. as i’m sure you’re well aware, the man is quite simply an extraordinary chef. i’ve eaten at per se only twice, but both times were sublime. and when i next find myself in napa, it won’t be french laundry that i first run to – it will be ad hoc. the restaurant with no menu. you come. you sit. and you’re served whatever 4 courses they’ve prepared for that evening. perfect.

if you’ve ever dined out with me, you’ll know that i rarely care what’s ordered. feel free to choose what you’d like for me to have so that we can share. i may narrow it down or make suggestions, but there’s nothing i don’t eat. nothing that will make me cringe. nothing that will disappoint me. my one request is just to make it damn good. i’m easy to feed.

(ok, eyeballs. i don’t do eyeballs. that squicks me out. and insects. but after that you’re relatively safe to serve me whatever you’d like.)

as my first foray into the book i decided on this particular dish because – it was easy. it was thomas keller’s food, it was going to be a cinch to make and i had all but 3 ingredients. so i ran out to get the chicken thighs, the olives and the fennel bulbs (3 for $15 – i was mortified). and then suddenly i began to feel as though i was relapsing into the miserable head cold that had taken me down earlier in the week. except now it was moving south into my chest, my voice dropping 2 definite octaves leaving me feeling wiped out, with the thought of cooking anything, incredibly unappealing..

ENTER: chris widick.

i love a man with tongs in his hand…

chris was coming by to pick up a big wooden crate that had transported 6 amazing mies van der rohe chairs that i’d recently scored on ebay. he has big plans of turning the thing into a huge smoker and i wanted it cleared out of my driveway asap. yet another example of one woman’s box being another man’s meat locker. sorry. that was just TOO DAMN GOOD TO RESIST. anyway, before i digress any further, chris regularly butchers whole animals in his garage and makes things such as venison pate, guanciale and pancetta and i am proud to know him.

but now i had to cook dinner for some friends. and i was spiraling into chest cold oblivion. and well, let me explain the chris ‘thing’. besides going on about how chris widick is a prince of a man and that i appreciate his innate kindness and goodness, NOT TO MENTION his teflon resilience when i get all up and down his shit while he’s cooking in my kitchen… he’s been a good friend to me in the 2 or so years that i’ve known him. he was one of my early ceF readers and we met at a food related event here in town which i love to relentlessly tease him about because he acted all star struck and wouldn’t stop talking out of nervousness and obviously thought i was WAY COOLER AND MORE IMPORTANT than he now knows i really am. which was totally adorable. these days he comes over and i’m usually half dressed, somewhat disheveled but always in my kitchen, and we inevitably get to cooking and chatting and generally having a pretty nice time together.

but this is what’s key. and readers…this is my big secret. and look, it’s just the truth. i make no excuses. i’m a home cook who fancies herself an executive chef. because ALL I WANT TO DO is have you do nearly all the work while i watch carefully and make every decision. BECAUSE I AM REALLY GOOD AT THAT <sigh> I REALLY AM. i just want to be in charge. but only in the kitchen. after that i’m all about fairness and democracy and relinquishing control. no really. i am. i’m better now. honest…

so chris assumed the position, knife in hand, towel over his shoulder and i sat there and said things like, "browner…" and "more wine…" and "but thomas says to do it this way…" and "not enough salt…" and "the farro is done and needs to be drained now…". and he was sweet and cheerful and always did as i asked.

women, LISTEN UP. he’s single, 39, and he’d make a wonderful partner. especially if you love fine human beings as much as fine food. i mean, THE GUY KILLS THE PIG, CURES THE BELLY AND MAKES HIS OWN BACON FOR GOD’S SAKE plus he has a very good steady day job. chris widick… i am telling you…

oh, i did take some pictures. but that i did for YOU.

after the chicken gets seared, it gets removed from the pan and in goes the onions, garlic and fennel…

next, the wine gets reduced, then add bay leaves, zest, red flakes of pepper, thyme, olives, stock…

then a short braise in the oven

then a minute or two under the broiler

the reason you make 12? leftovers…

it really is an excellent dish. everyone raved. i considered serving it over polenta but went with farro which i think was a good choice but any grain would work nicely.

i’ll do this one again and again…

merle, my loved and adored burmese kitty: february 1, 1994 – december 25, 2008

happy new year. it’s been so seemingly long now since i’ve written that i barely know where to begin except to say that i’ve thought of you. often. like every time i cooked or ate i’d think – i’m a food blogger and i should be telling somebody something about this. and then i’d go watch a movie.

but first of all, thanks for supporting ‘menu for hope V‘ and for bidding on the mullet roe from ‘rk’s black hammock smokehouse’. the total worldwide effort raised over $60k which will make a real difference in the lives of so many african children. or it could buy me the bmw i’ve had my eye on. you decide. anyway, i hope that a ceF reader wins the mullet roe because then you’ll finally understand just what i’ve been going on and on about regarding this esoteric florida delicacy.

and please note that i truly believe that you are all more than worthy of this amazing foodstuff and i can assure you that if i were empress there’d be mullet roe sacs for each and every one of you. because that it the kind of empress i would be. and if being empress were an electable position, smoked mullet roe and bottarga would be my platform, and my campaign slogan would be "smoke fish eggs, not your enemy" or "more sacs, less tax". granted, the concept needs tons of work. but i would totally be there for you in this way.

and thanksgiving in december was finally celebrated on ny’s eve. and after i read through every suggestion that you left in the comments, we took it all to heart and as many of you suggested, opted for sheer simplicity. we kept the food close to the ground with few ingredients. i roasted 2 chickens using the infallible zuni café method of salting smaller sized birds and covering loosely in the fridge for 2 or 3 days, then hitting them with a very high heat for about 50 minutes. the result – crisp skin and moist meat every time. i baked a simple cornbread using olive oil and made the stuffing using that and chicken sausage, red onions, garlic, celery, sage and veal stock. i also caramelized some brussels sprouts in a heavy skillet and hit them with a balsamic glaze and then roasted some sweet potatoes in nothing more than olive oil and salt. the cranberry sauce had fresh orange zest along with the juice, just a bit of brown sugar and a cinnamon stick.

at dinner, santos toasted to his beautiful wife rudrani, recognizing the auspicious evening and upcoming year with an excellent bottle of tattinger’s and we ate our dinner with a bottle of cotes du rhone. we felt grateful to not only be alive – but together, looking forward to the best year of our lives, if only because it is the one we will be living.

and being the exciting people that we are, cary and i were in bed at 11:30pm and flicked on the tv to watch all the festivities in nyc and do the whole pretend countdown (we’re on central time) and DID ANYONE ELSE SEE DICK CLARK AND GET FREAKED THE HELL OUT? it was, shall we say, NOT GOOD. it wasn’t the slurring due to the stroke it was "the face". he looked like he had died 2 days before and was embalmed, then put in full make-up and propped up in a chair. NOT GOOD. we both got the willies and quickly changed the channel. so much for going out with grace… i think much of america collectively gasped when they saw him. it kind of broke my heart.

and there was actually some food worth mentioning that happened to get cooked and then photographed in my kitchen during the tail end of ’08. so i thought i’d purge what was left in my files and hit you with it all at once in the name of starting fresh and not being wasteful.

this first dish, which i’ve now made perhaps 4x and have neglected to mention it to you, dear readers, is a smashing thing to eat. it’s a total wow and you need to make this one soon. grilled haloumi with caramelized fennel. oh. my.

just grill the fennel in some olive oil until it caramelizes, toss it with chopped italian parsley and spritz with lemon. then top it with the grilled halloumi. it is so much better than you might imagine it to be. so even if you are sitting there thinking, "no – i get it. that would be excellent", then you go and make it and it’s like crazy good and everyone thinks you are a brilliant cook and talks about you for days on end. i saw this dish on an australian blog called souvlaki for the soul. besides his beautiful food, the guy is a serious photographer. anyway, you heard it here second. now go make this.

jennifer? i told you i was going to make this and i did. and then i bought the book because ‘sunday suppers at lucques‘ by suzanne goin is most definitely a must own. and romesco is a must have in your repertoire. it works with nearly everything and although i’ve no recollection what fish this was, it was an excellent accompaniment to the romesco along with steamed broccoli.

romesco sauce
from ‘sunday suppers at lucques’ by suzanne goin

5 ancho chiles
2 T raw almonds
2T blanched hazelnuts
1 ¼ c extra virgin olive oil
1 slice country bread, about 1 inch thick
1/3 cup canned san marzano tomatoes
1 clove garlic, chopped
1 T chopped flat leaf parsley
½ lemon for juicing
kosher salt

preheat the oven to 375. soak the chiles in hot water for about 15 minutes, then seed and stem them. spread the nuts on a baking sheet and toast them for 8-10 minutes. remove from the oven and set aside. fry the bread in a bit of the olive oil, then let it cool and cut into cubes. return the pan to the stove, heat the chiles for about 2 minutes, then add the tomatoes. cook them until they break down and the juices are reduced, then turn off the heat and set aside.

pulse the nuts, bread and garlic in a food processor, then add the chile and tomato mixture and pulse again to combine. pour in more olive oil while the machine is running until you have the texture you want. taste for seasoning, then stir in the lemon juice and parsley.

ok. i know. not beautiful. but i am so incredibly proud of what’s going on in that bowl you just couldn’t know. you see, peter and heather are constantly cooking all these amazing asian dishes filled with mysterious ingredients to the point where i personally find it to be borderline between annoying and inferiority complex causing. my problem? i’d say so. but a few weeks ago i whipped up this little number using only what i had on hand. undoubtedly a red bell pepper would have come in handy along with some bamboo shoots or something else with color but it tasted pretty damn good and it contained the following, in no particular order:

white miso
mirin
shoyu
raw chicken breast
a chopped shallot
frozen peas
sriracha sauce
fresh rice noodles – sold refrigerated in the vacuum sealed bag
gochujang
sesame oil
my poultry stock

never to be duplicated, but again, it was a proud moment – especially since there is no chinese food in nashville worthy of buying unless you count ‘pf changs’. sad but true.

presenting, farinata – a thin chickpea pancake/pizza like thing that’s pretty popular in liguria. i saw farinata mentioned somewhere and then i found this recipe on the food & wine website – and well it’s very much my kind of food. yes yes, i scorched the top a bit with my broiler but really it was no big deal – just a very surface ring of black. you basically mix garbanzo flour and water and let it sit for a couple of hours. then you preheat the oven to 500f, skim any foam off the batter and add salt, rosemary (i think i used sage) and olive oil. then heat a cast iron skillet in the oven for 10 minutes, add some olive oil to the pan, add the batter and bake. again, i made the mistake of deciding to brown the top a bit more and i took my eye off the oven…

but there were no complaints and it went fast…

this was from the ‘king arthur flour whole grain baking‘ book. i’m pretty sure this recipe called for peaches but i loaded it up with 3 pears being that i had just bought a huge box of them to support a friends daughter school choir. great idea… so much better than gift wrapping or magazines. anyway, i lowered the amount of sugar the recipe called for and well, cary ate the entire loaf in one day.

vegetables on brown basmati rice. exciting, i know. please try and contain yourselves. but for the record we’ve got brussels sprouts, carrots, onions, garlic, broccoli and some lovely briney olives lightly sauteed in olive oil and finished with a balsamic glaze. and i must tell you, it was quite delicious. and since i took a picture of it, i felt the need to share. because not only am i needy that way, but also because the rice had the perfect bite and the vegetables were cooked to that crisp but not overdone finish. i got lucky on this one. it was a moment in time where all the planets aligned just so, and the vegetable gods smiled down upon me. and i was grateful and appreciative and all those things that the vegetable gods expect one to be.

scarlett runners from rancho gordo dusted with espelette. there’s some pan fried tilapia back there with a spicy green olive tapenade on top. but the beans and the espelette were seriously good. and even more seriously basque.

but regarding the espelette… like if ever you were to get some? think eggs. scrambled, deviled, fried or perhaps just one orange egg yolk sitting atop a small mound of sheeps milk ricotta mixed with a bit of orange zest, sprinkled with this extraordinary pepper and then tucked carefully between 2 sheets of thin pasta…. yes. think that.

so dear readers, for the record – my personal ‘o9 resolution is to lean down both physically and financially. and i’m heading in that direction, yes i am. and there’ll be more on that later.

and although i may be 4 days late, allow me to raise my virtual glass to you. here’s to a kinder, gentler new year…

like most of you who come here, i cook often. cooking is a joy in my life and i’m probably at my most centered and peaceful when i’m in my kitchen. but just the other night when faced with an upcoming gathering at my house, i got a bit anxiety ridden.  and you might wonder why… i mean i am a seasoned pro at feeding people and these were some of my closest friends.

well, here was the list of the dietary restrictions… no pork. no lamb or beef. nothing spicy, no eggplant, bell peppers or cauliflower. no squash, mushrooms or green olives. no sugar, eggs, dairy, wheat or gluten of any kind. and no yeast. which is in seemingly everything.

dear readers, i am not kidding here… and we were only 8 people.

so i decided we would have chicken. it felt safe. but still, this culinary task was a bit too daunting for the likes of me and i could come up with nothing. so i did what many a cook has done for three generations – i turned to julia child. and as you might expect, she had just the perfect dish for us. a sauté!

one of my favorite cookbooks of all time is ‘the way to cook’. i love how julia starts with a basic recipe and then builds on it, giving you options of where to go from there. so from her sautéed chicken she went to pipérade chicken (but peppers were a no, remember?) and then i came upon our dinner. chicken provençale. a perfectly glorious idea, julia. thank you.

it’s simple cooking. and it’s one of those dishes that i had forgotten about. provençale anything and all you need is some olive oil, garlic, tomatoes, olives and herbs de provence. i added sautéed onion and fresh basil, just because…

i bought 2 chickens and cut them into legs, thighs and breasts putting the scraps and wings in a ziplock and in my freezer for future stock. i heated my biggest cast iron pan and added some olive oil, browning the chicken on all sides. do this in batches so as not to crowd the pan.

WARNING: chickens are spiteful creatures that spit burning hot fat at you, aiming directly for your face. i got hit in 3 places and i have actual blisters to prove it. on my face. lovely. and you cannot sue a chicken. but you know this.

anyway, once the meat is browned, salt and pepper - interestingly, julia specifically does this after it is cooked – remove the meat from the pan and drain off as much oil and fat as you can, saving the juices. stir in a can of crushed san marzano’s (julia uses her own fresh tomato pulp – of course), add a generous amount of herbs de provence and some garlic. i pureed about 6 garlic cloves and added that to the pan. boil for several minutes to thicken the sauce, correct seasonings and add about 1/2 cup of dry white french vermouth. add the chicken back and simmer until it is cooked through. i served it with chopped kalamata olives and fresh basil with a side of simply roasted yukon potatoes, tossed with olive oil, salt and pepper.

it was delicious. i mean, this was a really good dish and a crowd pleaser amongst a hard to feed crowd. chicken provençale is beautiful food. it’s julia getting all rustic on us. it’s my kind of julia – french all the way, but with an italian edge.

the best line of the night was when my dear friend michael johnson and i were talking about food and cooking. michael was not the problem child at this dinner, his only food aversion being eggplant… so i asked him what else was on his ‘list’ and he said that he would pretty much eat anything. so then i got specific. would you eat tongue? and he replied yes. i asked, would you eat liver? and he answered, of course. and then i hit him with tripe. and he thought for 3 seconds and looked at me and said, well, maybe not as an entree…

a perfect answer.

when i first read ‘the making of a chef’ by michael ruhlman, i remember being struck by the last line in an early chapter where he wrote something like, "and then i realized i had come to the CIA to learn how to make a perfect brown veal stock".

having made my own perhaps not-as-perfect version of veal stock, and now that i always keep a couple of quarts of this velvety and sublime stuff on hand, i knowingly smiled. because after all the cooking and the reading, and then all the eating, i get it. i really do. it matters. and so it’s worth the eye-rolls that i get from some friends who think my ingredients are a bit too esoteric, and my technique and principles, elitist – the same friends that when i see them use stock from a can or a box, i bite my tongue and cringe…

because i won’t.

i just can’t.

i’ve been shown the way, the light and the most noble of culinary truths…

no real stock on hand? use water.

happy halloween…

but then there are also those times when veal is not the stock of choice. veal stock is more neutral, able to boost flavors in a very subtle but definitive way, while chicken stock is unmistakably – chickeny. and well, sometimes it’s just what you need and nothing else will do. ok, turkey stock will definitely do and then some…

so when the weather was deciding to get cooler, before it changed its mind and went back to the mid 80′s (and now down again), i decided to make chicken soup. i had hit the farmers market a few days before and picked up a chicken, a bag of necks and a bag of feet. the original thought was that i’d make some stock. after all, tis the season of soups and braises and stock is the quintessential element.

so i began by cutting the wings off my chicken and browning them in a large pot along with the assorted aforementioned extras in just a bit of canola oil and then filling the pot with filtered water, bay leaves, crushed peppercorns, a couple of carrots and a very large onion. the last addition was the bag of roasted carcasses and assorted bones that had been saved and frozen from our last 3 roasted chicken dinners in anticipation of ‘stock making day’.

reach out and touch someone…

my goal was to create a good solid stock and then add my now wingless chicken to the pot along with a parsnip for the last 90 minutes. the chicken would then get removed, skinned and pulled apart and the broth would be strained some more. and there would be egg noodles along with the shredded meat – and a few sliced carrots thrown in at the end with a very fine smattering of parsley for color… such is my usual chicken soup.

after about 4 hours at a barely imperceptible bubble, i removed the feet, neck, bones and vegetables and strained the broth through my damp towel lined chinoise, not once but 3 times. my stock looked and smelled absolutely beautiful and i was feeling pretty good about myself. and then i suddenly remembered the whole superlative stock concept that chef pardus had mentioned in ruhlman’s book and i temporarily lost interest in the soup. just like that. and i decided to go the extra mile and make the best damn chicken stock this side of the mississippi.

so into the strained stock went the body of the chicken and i let it simmer for about another 2 hours. after, i removed the bird from the broth, peeled off the skin in one full swoop and shredded the meat. it went into the refrigerator for whatever, whenever, later getting used in one round of soup, sandwiches and salads and the occasional cat treat.

the stock was put back on the stove and slowly reduced down for another 2 hours and was then strained 2 more times. after it cooled on the stove, it was zip-locked and frozen in 2 cup batches. i kept the last 2 cups in the fridge to make us soup at some point that week, and when i went back to my stock, it was heavily gelatinized.

a very good sign…

i think both chef pardus, ruhlman and my grandmother would have been pleased with the result.

later that week the stock shown above was reheated, slightly rehydrated, seasoned and then the obligatory noodles, chicken meat and carrot coins were added. i never did remember the parsley – or to take a photo of the finished soup.

when we sat down to dinner and i took my first spoonful, cary asked me how i thought it was and i looked at him and said, "it’s extraordinarily honest."

so maybe next time i won’t make the superlative version of my chicken stock. or maybe i will.

i guess we’ll just see how the day is going… 

i recently guest posted on one of my very favorite blogs, thursday night smackdown.

please click on over and check it out…
(it tastes just like chicken)

claudia

              

my rss feeder broke.  and i didn’t realize it for 3 months.  mostly because i (still) don’t even understand what exactly an rss feeder is, or what it does – talk about being oh so techno savvy… but my stat’s were dropping off and well, try as i might to just ignore the cold hard numbers, i started to take it personally.  was it something i said?  something i cooked?  where did so many of my bleaders go and why would they leave me after all we have meant to each other? 

but before i called my therapist, i called mark from simpler computing! and he quickly came to my rescue – again.  thank you mark.  you solved the mystery and now once again you are so totally my blero. 

so listen up – all you techno losers out there that just like to cook and write and take a little photo here and there, but do not want to bother your pretty little heads with html and templates and embedding and wordpress editors that suck and the like, call mark.  today.  he can tweak your blog into submission.  AND he likes to cook… (btw – ceF is still under construction as i type so please bear with…)

speaking of liking to cook… here’s the deal.  i cook a lot.  but sometimes it’s just dinner.  and sometimes it’s not my idea of a blog worthy post.  and usually it’s just that i’m too lazy to write.  but it’s totally me, not you.  you, i adore.  you make my life better, adding an entirely new fangled dimension that did not exist just 16 months ago. but still, i am often unmotivated, or perhaps even more often than that, i’m just reading OPB’s…

so what happens is that some of these dishes fall by the blogosphere’s wayside.  but i thought since we were dealing with feeds and feeding, i’d show you what gets fed around here to my immediate world.  so i’m going to hit you with a fair few of what i’ve not bothered to bother you with until now, along with some pictures. take a deep breath – here goes…

look familiar?  this one was made with the half and half, as per ripert’s recipe.  was it better?  yes.  did i LOVE it?  not so much.  it’s ok.  kinda brunchy, not desserty.  i like custard.  life is good.  and eric, you’re totally cool and sexy and hot and all those things.  but my tony still has you beat, big time. i hope you can understand…

ok so i realize i am blogger #4721 to make jim lahey’s no knead bread.  but i did it.  quietly.  and it was a good and crusty loaf of bread that if nothing else looked very, very impressive. 

i baked it in my romertopf that i dug out and dusted off.  although it stays unused and because it looks so beautiful – i keep it.  i’m sure you understand such things.  so, i soaked the terracotta in water and then baked the bread as per the direction for a dutch oven.  i felt my dutch oven was too big and i didn’t want a 2" high bread.  somehow, this worked out quite nicely.  so take a chance, dear readers – bake no knead bread.  oh, and have i made this again since?  nope.  will i?  maybe, probably not.

this was made quite awhile ago.  it was panko encrusted chicken livers served over what i think was swiss chard and finely sliced ‘delightful tiny purple potatoes’ and shallots sautéed with pimm’s and port.  what?  you think they may not have been tiny and delightful?  you are sooooo wrong….

i present to you… delightful. tiny. purple. potatoes.  i only wish i could have been in the room when the marketing team thought of that.  can you imagine what the discussion would have sounded like?  i only know they were republicans with bad haircuts.  after that, i know nothing.

so now you ask, what the hell is that?  that, my dear readers is a watermelon salad with mint leaves, chili oil and feta – topped with a very anti-locavore piece of barramundi from costco via australia.  in a previous life i lived down under (husband #1) and ate this fish regularly.  perhaps i didn’t need to sit the barramundi on top of the watermelon, but it seemed like a good idea at the time… and it was our dinner that night and we were happy enough.  so stop smirking.  thank you.

i made this last weekend and it was good and rich and saucy and chicken thighey – all that with trofie pasta thrown in for very good measure.  it’s what patricia wells eats when she’s at home in provence, a recipe that i picked up from feeding groom.  oh and it’s got sherry vinegar and garlic cloves and dijon mustard and lots of tarragon and minced sundried tomatoes… it’s more wintry than it is septembery in nashville, but i had 4 chicken thighs in the freezer and suddenly this just happened…

ok are you ready to hear what this was supposed to be?  what it almost was… what i wished it might have been and what it could be if i ever decide to take it on again?  salted butterscotch pudding with chocolate covered bacon.  thank you and goodnight.  the end.  by claudia. 

except it never really thickened properly.  and benton’s bacon is crazy salty.  so salty that i forgot just how salty it was therefore making it an out and out wrong bacon choice.  because it seems that is actually possible.  to make a wrong bacon choice.  you’d think not, but what this dessert needed was a thin cut good bacon that crisps up in a curly, artsy strip, and only then could it be dipped into lindt chocolate and put into a pudding recipe that WORKS.  because this recipe did not.  and another blogger tried it and it didn’t work for her either.  so. oh well,  we all drank our pudding and chucked the wayyy too salty pork.  seemed sinful but we got over it.  we lived and learned, moving onwards and upwards – with the comforting knowledge that bacon rarely ever lets you down…

so not even a little pretty.  AND the wrong color bowl.  but it was just a simple dinner of fresh crowder peas with bacon.  the bacon did just as it should, redeeming itself from the previous mishap.  there was something else served with this but really, i have no idea… i think it was grilled tilapia.  unexciting, quick and easy and not exactly memorable – but hey, not every night can be foie gras…

OK – EVERYBODY STAND UP AND STRETCH.  NO REALLY.  BECAUSE I AM NOT DONE.  BATHROOM BREAK?  GO ON.  I’LL WAIT….

oh, hi, you’re back.  wonderful, because i was worried… ok, just a few more…

this was lazzaroli’s sweet potato and ricotta ravioli.  i dressed it up with a side of kale, done in a sauce of olive oil, cream, honey and sage, and then dusted the pasta with nutmeg and parmegiano.  again – super fast and easy.  (tommy noodles, you are a nashville godsend… thank you for giving me an option that is first rate and still allows me to get creative.)

yes, i too jumped on the bandwagon thanks to michelle from thursday night smackdown and all the rest of you that grilled the hell outa a bunch of pizzas…  except michelle was the one who took my call on a saturday night so i could get very specific information about the whole pizza grilling process.  this particular pizza was taken from her post and it was damn fine.  i cooked down some swiss chard in a bit of olive oil, salt and pepper, and used copious amounts of minced garlic and ricotta.  i also sliced up a big ripe yellow tomato with red stripes running through it (we will miss you beautiful heirloom tomatoes),

awesomeness, no?  well yes – but… from here on in i’ll stick to the pizza stone with my oven set to broil and 550f… because grilled pizza is too damn white on top.  and flipping it before the toppings go on doesn’t allow the cheese and sauce to bake into the dough and well, my grill runs hot (it’s infrared) so even on the lowest setting it never got the top brown and i kept having to turn the flame on and off so as not to scorch the bottom and was nervously moving it to the top rack and well, i like my pizza stone in my oven.  so if i had a real charcoal grill which i don’t and do not plan on getting because it’s too much work and i am not willing (go on – think of me what you will but there are extenuating circumstances… like a boyfriend who is also happy with oven baked pizza’s), maybe that would be better.  but as it stands, and i repeat – i am a pizza in the oven kinda gal – set to broil on super high heat with the stone on the very bottom rack.  but i made the obligatory grilled pizza.  yes i did.

i present to you… voodoo mac and cheese

do you read gild the (voodoo)lily?  if not, you need to read gild the (voodoo)lily…  heather is very smart and very funny and this bitch can cook.  and i mean that in a good way.  heather is another one of those foodcentric people that seriously knows how to put ingredients together.  like if you turned your pantry over to her, she’d blow your mind.  and you’d be thinking all, why didn’t i think of that?… and the answer is because she KNOWS MORE THAN YOU DO.  plus she’s a botanist.  a freakin’ botanist... so she’s always growing and foraging and well, it’s a little bit intimidating.  heather could totally kick your ass and never even touch you…

anyway, back in july she made something called garden mac.  for her it was merely a ‘clean your fridge out’ kinda dinner, and i’m thinking – mac and cheese with roasted tomatoes in a bechamel base?  sign me the hell up. 

the ingredients i used were as follows; mostaccioli pasta, the 4 cheeses were – asiago, parmigiano reggiano, st jerome and fontal.  and for the garden part – fresh thyme and heirloom tomatoes, kale, onion, squash and zucchini.  i drove all the ingredients about an hour south, down to my friend shannon’s house and we spent the day cooking and drinking wine and talking and laughing and then we sat out on the porch overlooking her farm and had a late lunch…

and for the grand finale i give to you an extremely abbreviated version of my veal stock mission…

bones arrive from snook’s.  i tried for weeks to find a local source.  nada.

20 lbs.

because i am awesome…

i made brown and white stock.  i followed the ruhlman way.  it is the only way. (great version here)

otherwise when you die, you go to culinary hell where you are forced to live on nothing but shoney’s buffets. (please click on the shoney’s link.  there are no words…)

and hey, thanks so much for reading.  i realize this post was a commitment. 

you can go now…

i rarely buy chicken, rarely order chicken when dining out and really – i rarely even like chicken. it’s kind of a ‘nothing’ food to me, almost always somewhat tasteless and uninteresting, taking on whatever sauce you throw at it. but on occasion, like once at ‘david burke and donatella’ in nyc – i’ve stumbled across some really great chicken. chickeny tasting chicken that’s been roasted to perfection. something i’ve never done. until now. after hearing michael ruhlman talk about the "sunday-cast-iron-pan-chicken-roasting" which takes place weekly in his home, which conjured up all kindsa warm and fuzzy images and smells, i came across what sounded like a similar technique in my brand new copy of ‘the zuni cafe cookbook’, which by the way falls into the ‘must have’ realm of cookbooks.

on page 35 she has a section entitled ‘the practice of salting early’. it is worthwhile information, to say the least. osmosis plays a big roll here, drawing out liquid and then reversing as the cells reabsorb a now salty moisture, seasoning the meat. i’ll still need to perfect my seasonings and my salting technique, but the roasting method is now etched in stone. i did it and can do it again – and again, repetition (i believe) being the key to greatness in cooking. you must buy a small bird – about a 3lb broiler. not a roaster. a broiler. no matter what they tell you. i got mine at whole foods. you pepper and salt the chicken using about 3/4 teaspoon of salt per pound – putting less around the wings and skinny ankles. then place it in the refrigerator, loosely covered for 2 days. sprigs of fresh herbs can go under the skin around the breast and thigh area – and should. i used marjoram because i already had some in the house and batali goes on and on about it. ruhlman probably uses tarragon, and i’m sure that rosemary, thyme or sage would be just lovely too.

preheat to 475. you may need to up the heat or lower it depending on your oven. put your cast iron pan – or any oven safe pan on the stove to get it hot. a 10" works nicely. then put the chicken – patted very dry, in the pan breast side up – it’ll sizzle. then place the pan with the bird in the oven. after 30 minutes turn the bird over. after about 10 more minutes flip it again and leave it in for about another 5. then take it out and let it sit for at least 15 minutes. the skin was perfectly brown and crisp and somehow the breast meat was actually juicy. in my world this has been a rarity so i was pretty pleased. zuni serves theirs with a bread salad that sounds wonderful. i made a basic polenta along with some orange and brown sugar glazed carrots.

simple.

here on the day after the last day of october, and for the record, let me just put forth that i am the halloween grinch, which more or less goes with my overall dislike for kids.  ok ok – all you great folks out there with beloved children… i’m just not the one dying to hold your baby or smile at your tantrum throwing toddler – especially in a restaurant or at 35,000 feet.  but before you jump on me, i happen to have raised one great and impressive (step) kid and i am in love with one particular 5 year old who calls me “granclaud”.  so i’ve not led a totally kid-less life.  plus my boyfriend comes with not one, but two rather appealing tweens that i’m quite partial to.  still, overall i don’t like kids much. i just like certain individual people who i’ve come to know and respect – who happen to be under the legal drinking age.

i (happily) live on a road that does not allow for trick-or-treaters.  it’s trafficky and i’ve got a very long and winding driveway that goes way up into the woods. so last night, safe from the barrage of cuteness i made dinner for some friends. 

i’m still on my ‘eating down the house’ kick.  so last night’s dinner was in keeping with what was available to me within the current confines of my pantry and my fridge/freezer.  a quick trip to the market for a head of garlic and some shallots – along with a 4 pack of mediocre mini bottles of pinot grigio for cooking – and i was set.  my dessert required a 14 oz. container of whole milk and a baguette so i grabbed those too.  oh, but that’s worthy of a whole other post…

i had searched the freezer to see what meat i had in stock and i began defrosting 4 very large locally produced, super organic chicken breasts from ‘west wind farms‘.  then in my mind i assembled the ingredients and decided to bake the breasts due to their sheer size and proceeded down a mediterranean path.  i had a few naked lemons in my egg tray that had been zested for a batch of gremolata and they needed to be used stat.  i chopped a few large shallots, used some wonderful dried-on-the-vine oregano from sicily, added some lemon juice and finely sliced rind -  as well as thinly sliced lemons that were peeled of their nearly 2 week old hardened pith.  (hey it’s lemon in nearly every form imaginable!)  then salt, pepper and a mini bottle of pinot grigio and into the oven it all went.

i baked the chicken at 400 for about 30 minutes or so.  then i broiled them for a few extra minutes to slightly brown the skin a bit more.  they came out great.  not dry.  thank god.  dry chicken breasts are the worst.  it seems to always be a crap shoot for me with bone-in chicken breasts.  i also used the cooked shallot and lemon mixture when i plated everything.  it was way too good to toss.  i especially loved the thin slivers of lemon rind.

while all that was going on i opened a bag of moretti polenta from market hall foods.  the bramata polenta is a coarse yellow flour that takes about 40 minutes of nearly constant stirring.  when it was close to done i added a very buttery spanish olive oil that i have become quite attached to and a large handful of finely chopped parmigiano, both from zingerman’s.  the polenta was sublime.  cary commented that he could live on just that.  for like forever.

and the last element on this plate was quickly executed.  i already had a big leftover bag of the 3 mixed greens that i had used in my sweet potato stew.  about 5 cloves of garlic were minced and then added to some italian olive oil and the chopped greens went in about a minute later along with a bit of water and a cover on the pan to steam them down.  the trick here is not to burn the garlic even a little, hence the use of the water which disappears.  it’s my own little method and it works for me.

not a sexy plate of food.  but a hearty autumn dinner that worked out just like it was supposed to.  and that right there for me is a big deal.

i’ll take a little fleeting success in any form.

there was no way i was turning on the oven.  really, even grilling was brave.  yesterday was 104 and as i type it’s 105.

105…

i had defrosted some locally processed beautiful chicken breasts and they needed to get cooked.  i prefer to do them in the oven as last time my results were so very fine. but again – not an option.

so i made a paste of olive oil, pressed garlic, tarragon leaves, salt, pepper and lemon zest.  i spread the mixture underneath the skin and then lightly oiled, salted and peppered the pieces to prepare them for the heat.  my grill is fierce.  so i set it on medium low and kept an eye on the situation until the skin got crisp.  then i turned them over, lowered the flame, closed the lid and prayed not to over cook them.  they were of fairly hefty size and as we know, with chicken there’s a fine line between under and over cooking.  or i should say, between getting salmonella poisoning or having it be too dry to taste any good.

after 15 more minutes or so on the grill i lifted the lid, poked them with a skewer, didn’t see any signs of chicken blood and off they came.  i finished them with a drizzle of balsamic glaze.  which is supposed to look very professional. but being the non-professional that i am – my drizzle marks were competing with my grillzzle marks.  (wow, i am like so totally cool!  snoop dogg would be so impressed with me!  except… i think that slang was all so like 5 years ago.)

tony bourdain, in his book ‘kitchen confidential‘ suggests this drizzle method for food beautification.  we’ve all seen it out and about.  so… squeeze bottles, people.  make it pretty with squeeeeeze bottles.  ok, so now you’re all officially reminded of that tasty little trick.  but - something else i’ve now discovered which is a mysterious source of confusion to me is that tony - and many chefs – if not ALL chefs, seriously frown upon pressed garlic.  we’re talking downright disgusted with the concept.  so, on this one, i am lost.  someone clue me in.  i would think that a poor defenseless garlic press must have some place in the world – such as for making a paste to put under the skin of chicken…  geeshk.

my salad was a simple romaine, cucumber and tomato combo with a simple honey lemon vinaigrette.  the store bought polenta reappears in its second incarnation.  it seemed to fit in quite nicely.

nothing flash – just dinner.

and i’ll be damned if i didn’t get cookers block.  the time came to prepare this basic, unassuming dish and i didn’t know what the hell to do.  now i’m not so big on chicken and have rarely done the ‘on the bone with skin’ thing.  so i panicked, sent an SOS to a really talented food blogger and then proceeded into the kitchen all on my lonesome. 

well i must have channeled the chicken gods or the kitchen gods or the god of all things cooked - because before you knew it – i had me a version all figured out. not like this is rocket surgery or anything, but still…

i chopped up some fresh oregano, minced some garlic, very thinly sliced some lemon and stuffed that under the skin along with salt and pepper – threw the breasts in a baking dish, drizzled some olive oil on top, winged it all into my super hot oven and proceeded to bake for about 15 minutes on 475 finishing it up for about another 15 at 350.   

and they came out crispy, flavorful and moist – and chickeny – but in a good way.  i even honestly impressed myself which believe me,  is no small feat.  so hey. check it out.  i can roast chicken and have it be great.  life is good.  but… hold on because before i get to feeling too pleased with myself i must give credit to the pastured broilers themselves, raised close by, all organic and really free ranging as opposed to what we usually buy when we think we’re getting the good stuff – as in ‘big organic’.  as in to a gnat’s ass of the law… but don’t get me started.

and then yesterday i was reading the ny times sunday mag and there were these recipes for – of all things – flattened food and i happened to have the perfect tomatoes that they were asking for.  not roma’s and not cherry’s but large cherry’s.  i assumed that these are something like the illegitimate child of the two. and sure enough, i had them here.  hell, if monty hall was calling out for just about any summer vegetable that could possibly be found in your kitchen, i’d be a contestant on ‘let’s make a deal’ as we speak.   so i broiled the juliette’s (their true name) quickly on both sides, blistering ever so slightly and then gently squashed them down with a potato masher.  they got tossed with some good olive oil, salt and pepper. the definition of simplicity giving way to perfection. 

the leftover risotto from the weekend sat beside the chicken and tomatoes as though it was all meant to be.

a dinner in nashville in three part harmony…

but every other weekend and for a stretch each summer and winter we get my boyfriend’s two tweens – fresh faced and exuberant, just like kids should be. luckily their mom is a wonderful cook and a total foodie so their palate has been educated. but one can only push it so far… so without them ever knowing, i compromise.

i had gotten a big beautiful bunch of basil on saturday and it was now or never. so into the processor the leaves went along with the last of the garlic scapes, some right out of the ground garlic cloves, pine nuts, parmegiano, olive oil, salt and pepper. just a slight variation on an old standard. i simply grilled a chicken breast on my stove – not seasoning it all since the pesto was so full of flavor. then i sliced up some perfect roma’s. the bread was the aforementioned compromise. no thick chewy tuscan bread or semolina tonight. just good old supermarket sandwich bread. some kind of thick, soft, slightly sweet multi grained arnold brand bread.

and you know, it’s not my thing but you can see why the masses like it. it’s just totally likable. for example, i might date it but i wouldn’t marry it… ok – five more kid friendly dinners to go and counting…….

this past week, i’d been reading something about lobster rolls. so after a few days of thinking about it and 9 months since my last trip to maine, lobster rolls it had to be.

i bought my lobsters right next to the farmers market. i go every saturday morning to pick up my week’s share. it’s only about 15 minutes drive from my home, it’s small and simple and i’m so grateful that it’s there. it’s a really nice morning’s activity. there’s live bluegrass music and a bunch of awfully nice country folk. living inland, gulf pride seafood is as close as we’re going to get to fresh. so four 1 1/4 lb’ers it was. i bought them already cooked but they’d been steamed just that morning. i also picked up some fresh tarragon and scallions. i already had the celery, hellman’s mayo and the hot dog buns at the house…

i also bought some locally processed chicken wings, something for the kids. they were quite large with some breast meat still attached. i marinated them in olive oil, lemon juice, garlic, honey, cayenne, salt and pepper. they were baked in the oven and finished on the grill. not as crispy as i would have liked but still, really good.

then there were the incredible heirloom tomatoes also from the market with intricate names i can’t recall (though i honestly tried), sliced on a plate , and the cucumber salad made with my farm share using only white vinegar, sugar and toasted sesame oil. oh and corn on the cob. it’s summer after all – officially day 3. oh and watermelon – we did that too… the corn and watermelon were from the anti-farmer’s market, costco. proof that everything has it’s place…

i was with my best friends angela and bruce, and my guy. his two kids were in the pool having an absolute blast and we were preparing dinner, drinking some wine and enjoying the slight breeze up on the hill.

and i was thinking just how incredibly lucky i am…