tomato_kumato

As of late, it may seem to you all that I haven’t been cooking.

Sure, I’ve been posting, but any recipes are from back in Paris, and since I left Paris over a month ago, it appears, from this blog, that I have not been cooking at all since I left. Well, I gotta tell ya, it’s simply not true… and taken completely out of context.

While I did take a short (OK, month-long) break from cooking, for the past two weeks I’ve had my very own hot plate to cook for my very own Canadian again. I’ve just been moving through my photo archives instead of posting the more recent stuff.

But that all ends here, my friends. Today, I have to show you what I made for dinner last night, because it’ll knock your socks off. (My best friend growing up got very upset with his uncle when he told him this and then the socks did not actually fly from his feet. It was very, very sweet. And also kind of sad.)

So, without further ado, I bring you Lager and Lemon Grilled Chicken. I found the recipe through Gretchen at Canela and Comino, but originally it’s from Cooking Light (bonus points!)

It’s supposed to be grilled chicken, but since all I have is a stovetop, I seared the chicken on both sides in a little bit of olive oil, and then I poured the rest of the marinade in so that the chicken could poach in it. Once the marinade had reduced by about half, I served the chicken, along with the marinade as a sauce, over zucchini.

The only other changes I made were to halve the garlic cloves and throw them in the marinade instead of mincing them, and to also throw in two of these green not-too-hot peppers that I bought in bulk at my Spanish grocery store thinking they were spicy jalapenos only to learn that they were… well… not.

You must go try this chicken now. It is so amazingly flavorful, ridiculously easy and actually good for you! All is well with the world!

I’ve been meaning to post about this chicken recipe for awhile. I got it off Luisa’s site: it’s a recipe for spicy roasted chicken thighs. I accidentally forgot to mix the tomato paste in with the rest of the ingredients (I know… I’m insane), so after I had rubbed the chicken with the mix, I just kind of smushed some tomato paste on there as well. It turned out delicious, but as you can see, the color was a little bit different from Luisa’s.

Luisa, by the way, is starting to become my guru without even knowing it. I pretty much put every recipe on her site onto my list of recipes to try… and every time I try one, I end up loving it. Pretty soon, I’m going to have to hit up that famous lemon chicken. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, you should probably head over there and check out her site for yourself. Sorry for seeming like a stalker, Luisa… I’m going back to the chicken now.

I loved this chicken. I served it with spiced couscous and extra gravy from the pan. The Canadian, however, was a little skeptical. Sure, he said it was good and finished what was on his plate, but it’s the first time in the history of mankind that he didn’t ask for seconds. Oh well… that just meant that I got to have the leftovers with salad the next day… and take a picture, which I forgot to do the day before. Maybe it’s just a girl recipe…

“Festina tarde was a renaissance concept: make haste slowly.”

It’s taken me a long time to get to Under the Tuscan Sun, but it’s not for lack of cooking. On Saturday night, I threw a massive dinner party at my house. I invited ten people, and crafted a perfect menu: apératif of Tomato Bruschetta and Wild Mushroom Crostini, Risotto with Parmeggiano-Reggiano for a starter, and then Under the Tuscan Sun’s Chicken with Lemon and Basil. The dessert was tarte tatin. I spent all day Saturday prepping, making sure that everything would be easy once my guests arrived. I made the tarte dough, precooked my risotto (a restaurant trick I learned while waiting tables), made my salad dressing, tomatoes, and dressing for the chicken, and precooked the mushrooms. I had very little to do once my guests arrived.

… If they arrived. I guess one of the drawbacks of having so many international friends is not being aware of their customs. Example? Apparently, in a lot of South America, it’s considered rude to show up somewhere on time. So while my American friends arrived about ten to fifteen minutes late (like my mother told me, and apparently their mothers told them, you are supposed to do), the others didn’t show up for two hours.

Bear in mind, also, that this is rugby night in France, and France is playing England for a chance in the semifinals. We’ve opened the wine, eaten all the bruschetta, and the five of us have gotten quite tipsy while trying to find a way to watch the game online. When my friends finally arrived, I managed to get everything on the table (I forgot about the salad though), but my chicken didn’t brown the way I wanted to because I’d lost my sense of timing (thank you, Bordeaux), I didn’t have time to take any pictures of the plated dishes, and by the time we’d finished with the risotto and the chicken, we wanted to watch the rugby game, so we abandoned the finished pie in the cold oven and went down to the Champs de Mars.

The French lost, and the next morning I had to wash essentially all the dishes in my house. But later that evening, my friend Emese came by to help me finish the tarte tatin, and as we sat together on my couch, sharing half a pie between us, I realized that this was what I had wanted. Just to haves some friends, even one friend, over to my house, to cook something delicious, and to talk for awhile. I don’t know if I’ve learned how to make haste slowly, but I know that eating that one pie slowly was much more fun than any dinner party could have been.

The Menu:

Tomato Bruschetta

Wild Mushroom Crostini

Risotto with Parmeggiano-Reggiano

Basil and Lemon Chicken

In a large bowl, mix 1/2 cup each of chopped spring onions and basil leaves. Add the juice of one lemon, salt, and pepper. Mix and rub onto 6 chicken pieces (I used chicken thighs) and place in a well-oiled baking pan. Dribble with a little olive oil. Roast, uncovered, at 450 for ten minutes and at 350 for about an additional twenty, depending on the size of the chicken. Garnish with more basil leaves and lemon slices.
Tarte Tatin

I have to say, I was very, very proud of this chicken. I don’t really know why… maybe it’s because even though I kind of used the recipe for Lemon-Herb Roast Chicken on Epicurious, I kind of realized that I know how to do a lot of things myself, like timing, stuffing the cavity with all sorts of citrusy goodness, and especially with dealing with the kind of chicken they sell in France.

When you buy chicken here, even in the grocery store, there are often a few feathers left on. I find it reassuring… it makes me feel like it’s fresher. But I had to go through with a tweezer and get them off, rinse the whole chicken, and remove the parts they left inside.

Maybe I’m so proud because my friend, who is a self-proclaimed cook of two things: cheese on toast and sausages, stood and watched in awe as I slid the butter beneath the skin, stuffed the cavity with lemons and garlic, and even made a cream gravy afterwards. Seeing her watch me reminded me of watching my mother before I first went to university, trying as hard as I could to glean any tips from her before I had a kitchen all to myself. I think that may have been what Emily was doing as I made chicken and mashed potatoes for her last night in Paris. And I was proud.

I seem to have a thing for this pose.

In other news, I have finally picked this month’s book of the month… Under the Tuscan Sun. This memoir by Frances Mayes, which inspired the movie starring Diane Lane, has two whole chapters filled with recipes, one for summer and one for winter. Because I’m in neither summer nor winter (although it is starting to feel desperately like fall), I’m going to take recipes from both sections. I obviously can’t do some of the summer recipes now, but I’ve found things like Bruschette con Pesto di Rucola, Wild Mushroom Lasagna, Ribollita, Rustic Apple Bread Pudding, Red Peppers Melted with Balsamic Vinegar… So many things to try, so little time! I’m off to the market tomorrow… hopefully you’ll have some new Tuscan recipes shortly! Ciao!

Combine 1 stick room temperature butter, 4 tablespoons herbes de provence, 3 large garlic cloves, minced, and 1 1/2 tsp of lemon peel in small bowl and stir to blend. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Preheat oven to 450°F. Rinse 6 1/2- to 7-pound roasting chicken; pat dry. Slide hand under skin of chicken breast to loosen skin form meat. Reserve 2 tablespoons herb butter for gravy. Rub half of remaining herb butter over chicken breast under skin. Spread remaining herb butter over outside of chicken and some in the inner cavity. Season chicken inside and out with salt and pepper. Stuff the cavity with one lemon, cut into wedges, and one garlic clove. Place chicken in heavy large roasting pan. Roast 20 minutes, and then reduce oven temperature to 375°F. Roast chicken until juices from thigh run clear when chicken thigh is pierced with skewer, about 1 hour 15 minutes. Lift chicken and tilt slightly, emptying any juices from cavity into roasting pan. Transfer chicken to platter. Tent with aluminum foil to keep warm. Note: Cooking times are always approximate. Make sure you check it early so it doesn’t overcook. If you’re not sure, use a thermometer: it should read 175 when inserted into the thigh.

Pour pan juices into large glass measuring cup. Spoon fat off top. Add 1/4 cup white wine to pan. Place pan over high heat; bring wine to boil, scraping up any browned bits. Pour wine mixture into cup with pan juices. Add enough chicken broth to same cup to measure 2 1/4 cups liquid. Melt reserved 2 tablespoons herb butter in heavy medium saucepan over medium-high heat. Add 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour; whisk until smooth and beginning to color, about 3 minutes. Gradually whisk in pan juices. Boil until thickened to sauce consistency, whisking occasionally, about 7 minutes. Season gravy with salt and pepper.

“For my first night back, we’re having chicken fatteh–a layered dish of toasted bread, chicken, onion, spices, and pine nuts covered with a velvety yogurt sauce. It’s so lush and lovely, I eat recklessly, like an amnesiac with no awareness of anything but the table, the sweet sadness of return, an the moon hanging like a sigh just beyond the long dark fields.”

Read. This. Book. If not for the recipes, then for the style. Diana Abu-Jaber is a lovely writer, and she knows exactly how to evoke the sentiment in the reader. When I read this sentence, I think of my own homecoming foods, remembering my days at boarding school when I couldn’t cook for myself. I would call my mother weeks before coming home, asking her what they were having for dinner, pressing the phone hard to my ear as though listening hard enough would bring me back to roast beef and yorkshire pudding, to spaghetti and meatballs, to rotisserie chicken and oven-roasted potatoes. When I finally arrived home, she would cook as I commanded: always lasagna, beef in tarragon mustard sauce, and swordfish with watermelon salad. I was a nomad, faded from my home. My sister barely remembered when I lived there. When I was gone, I was a ghost, a few books and an empty bed to suggest that I used to belong. Eating was coming home, and as I filled my belly with warm food, I stopped fading and became real again.

For Diana, the food that does this is this fatteh, and I can see how. Even not having grown up with it, there is something comforting about the warmly spiced, steamed chicken, the creamy yogurt sauce, the sweet bite of onion. I served the dish with roasted vegetables and tried to imagine my own homecoming, which now seems so far away…

What is it about cravings? They show up out of nowhere, and are always for the strangest things. I read an article about cravings several years ago, about what they mean. If you’re craving pretzels (or other salty snacks), it means you’re dehydrated. If you’re craving steak, you’re lacking in iron. Peanut butter is a vitamin B deficiency. It makes sense… your body knows what it needs, and it tells you. So… what about craving chicken salad?

I was sitting in my second period (out of five) class the other day, and out of nowhere, I got this crazy craving for chicken salad. The weirdest part was that it was for a chicken salad I had never even tasted before. I wanted cold chicken, boiled potatoes, pickles, scallions, all mixed together in a bowl with mustard and yogurt combined for a dressing. Now that’s a strange craving if I’ve ever had one.

I couldn’t get the chicken salad out of my mind for the whole day, and the second I got out of school, I bolted home to make it. It was just as good as I was expecting it to be.

“I used to hate magloubeh, but Gram instructed me never to say ‘hate,’ so now I just don’t care for it instead.”

Diana Abu-Jaber may not care for magloubeh, but I’m certainly glad she still included the recipe in her book, because I love it. This is the first recipe I tried from The Language of Baklava. I had considered progressing through the chapters in an organized manner, sampling each recipe. But the first recipe was shish kabob, and I don’t think my little Paris kitchen has room for that. Besides, the story doesn’t really go in chronological order anyway, so why should I? Instead, I paged through the book until I found a recipe that interested me. The one I found included eggplant and chicken, both of which I had on hand.

Magloubeh, as Abu-Jaber explains, means upside down in Jordanian. This part had me a little bit worried… I was supposed to turn out the huge dutch oven onto a plate at the end. But she cautioned that her version was not supposed to stand up like a timbale, so that was good enough for me.

The recipe started out simply… sauté some onions, fry cauliflower and eggplant… but pretty soon I had several different dishes waiting to be combined. My tiny kitchen almost couldn’t handle it, but I managed (it involved balancing things on the edge of the counter and in the sink), and I’m so glad I did.

The final product had to steam for 40 minutes, and then another 10 after I added the couscous (I replaced the rice in her recipe. I don’t like rice. I don’t keep it in my kitchen. I don’t eat it.) I could barely keep from lifting the lid… the smells of cinnamon, black pepper, and allspice wafted through the house. (Note: Allspice is called “4 spice” in French… wish I had known that. I stood like an idiot in front of the spice rack at the supermarket before picking up vaguely brown bottles at random and inspecting the ingredient lists).

When I finally turned out the pot, a little bit of the chicken stuck to the bottom, but I had no problem dishing it out and placing it on top. Not perfect, but I’m learning. Abu-Jaber suggests serving this with yogurt. Her version also includes sumac, which I couldn’t find… but the last time I bought it I used it once and then the rest sat around forever, so maybe I tried not to find it. She also says you can use either lamb or chicken. Maybe next time… this time I was so entranced by the spices that I couldn’t think of adding a thing.

Magloubeh

In a heavy saucepan, heat two tablespoons of olive oil. Add one large onion, chopped, and sauté until soft and browned. Add 8 ounces of boneless chicken, cut into chunks. Cook, stirring, until evenly browned. Add 1/8 teaspoon each of ground cinnamon, ground coriander, and ground cumin, and 1/4 teaspoon of ground allspice. Add salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste. Add one and a half cups of water (note… she suggests broth, but the only broth I could find in the store had MSG, to which I am highly allergic. If you can find broth, I suggest it, although the dish did not suffer with the water), and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to low, cover, and simmer for one hour, until the meat is tender.

In a frying pan, fry one half of an eggplant, cut into 1/2 inch half circles, and one half of a small cauliflower, cut in half and then into 1/2 inch pieces, in olive oil. Remove and set on paper towels to drain excess oil. Coat the bottom of a large dutch oven with olive oil (about 2 teaspoons). Arrange the meat in an even layer in the pot. Cover with the eggplant, then 1/2 cup of couscous, then the cauliflower. Pour the broth from the meat over the entire thing. Cover the pot and simmer until the couscous is cooked.

Meanwhile, saute 1/8 cup of pine nuts in butter until lightly browned.

When the meat and rice are done cooking, invert the pot over a serving dish. Top the meat with the pine nuts.