Put into a salad bowl some olive oil of the best quality, some white wine vinegar, 4 tablespoons roast turkey juice, 1/2 teaspoon tarragon mustard, the inside of a lobster, salt, and pepper. Stir until the mixture is perfectly smooth. Then add slices of lobster flesh, slices from the breast of a braised chicken and the breast of a roast turkey without the skin, the breast of three young partridges (keep the best slices for decoration), some thinly sliced truffles cooked in an excellent dry white wine, some mushrooms prepared in the same way, and a number of shelled crayfish. Cover with a layer of blanched endive (chicory) leaves. Add a second layer of the mixture, then a further layer of endive. Then on top tastefully arrange the reserved slices of meat, a few strips of ham from which the fat has been removed, a few large slices of truffle and mushroom, a border of shelled crayfish, a tablespoon of capers washed in white wine, and a cupful of stoned (pitted) green olives. Put a mound of thick mayonnaise in the centre with the largest truffle on top. Serve with the finest dry champagne, very cold but not iced.Twenty-first century, eat your heart out!
Showing posts with label chicken. Show all posts
Showing posts with label chicken. Show all posts
Friday, May 24, 2019
Real Men Eat Salad
A nineteenth century salad from the works of Lucien Tendret - author of La Table au pays de Brillat-Savarin.
Sunday, December 3, 2017
Japanese Dinner
♥
Baby potatoes fried in duck-fat with gomashio
♦ ♦ ♦
Oyako Don (親子丼)
♥
Miso soup with acorn squash & ginger
♥
Greens with calamansi vinaigrette
♥
Homemade Japanese pickles — carrot; watermelon radish; ginger
Winter vegetables in tare sauce.
Labels:
acorn squash,
brussel sprouts,
calamansi,
chicken,
egg,
filipino,
french,
ginger,
indian,
japanese,
miso,
new potatoes,
pickle,
potatoes
Wednesday, September 21, 2016
Tom Yum
This is hands down one of the absolute favorites of the CC's in the Thai repertoire. It was requested so frequently by the CC's friends once that it was practically a standby as appetizer before "other" meals.
It also happens to be extraordinarily easy provided you have the right ingredients.
At its heart, it involves the simmering of extraordinarily fresh ingredients and then topping with some protein and aromatics.
Once again, it's a meta-recipe where you can have tom yum goong (shrimp) or tom yum gai (chicken) or tom yum talay (mixed seafood.)
David Thompson's recipe is ultra-minimalist and ultra-purist and it would work if the CC lived in a tropical climate and had access to the very best of produce in large quantities. It also eliminates shallots which is fine for royal cuisine but that's not what you're getting on the street.
Not having access to that quality of produce perenially, the CC's version is closer to that of Kasma Loha-Unchit's which tweaks the parameters to get the same taste profile.
The soup is an exercise in freshness. Simmer it at the last moment. Ideally, the boiling hot soup should be poured over the fresh meat/seafood and served at once. They will cook in the boiling broth and be both perfectly cooked and tender at the same time.
The CC once had a the sister of a friend who refused to eat barely cooked shrimp until we persuaded her to try it. Then she wanted seconds and thirds (of which alas, there were none!) A convert to the excellence of barely cooked seafood.
The existence of this soup on menus across the country may be a cliché but there's a solid reason it is one. It's a masterpiece of flavor.
Ingredients
3 cups water
1 small block tamarind
3-5 kaffir lime leaves
3 pieces lemongrass (sliced at a diagonal, pounded lightly)
1" galangal (sliced, pounded lightly)
3-4 Thai chillies (or to taste)
1 tbsp nahm prik pao (roasted chili paste/jam)
2 shallots (sliced lengthwise into thin slivers)
1 small tomato (sliced into quarters)
1/2 cup straw mushrooms
fish sauce (to taste)
chicken/shrimp/seafood
1-2 limes
cilantro leaves
Note 1: It's best to use water rather than broth. You get a very sharp clear taste profile. Broth muddies the waters so to speak. Think of it as the difference between limpid watercolors and an oil painting.
Note 2: The fresher the chicken/shrimp/seafood and also the aromatics, the more this soup will shine.
Note 3: The chicken should be sliced thinly against the bias. The shrimp can be left whole. The seafood should also be sliced finely.
Note 4: Since the galangal, lemongrass and kaffir lime leaves are not eaten, technically you could strain it. That's not the Thai way and yet the CC has seen it done in a superb "fancy" Thai restaurant in Manila.
Note 5: Scallions are fairly traditional too but the CC doesn't like the clash between the shallots, scallions and cilantro. He likes the sharper watercolor flavors.
Note 6: There are excellent brands of nahm prik pao on the market. No artificial ingredients, etc. You could be a purist and make it but the CC finds that these are not just acceptable but positively excellent.
Note 7: The CC would like to draw your attention to a powerful concept. The idea of a background "mellow" sourness (tamarind) allied with a perfumed "fresh" sourness (lime). You will see this idea as a conceptual framework all along Southeast Asia whether it's kudampuli + lime (South India) or dried raw mango (aamchur) + lime (North India) or tamarind/vinegar/raw mango + calamansi (Philippines.) You'll see it Italy too (vinegar + lemon). It's an extraordinarily potent idea.
Recipe
Smash the galangal and lemongrass lightly. Add them, the chillies and kaffir lime leaves to the water.
In a separate bowl, pour hot water over tamarind and let it soak for 20 minutes. Strain through a fine sieve into the same bowl of liquid. Discard the remnants.
Bring the liquid to a boil. When it is boiling, turn the heat down to a low simmer. Add the nahm prik pao and let it simmer for 10 minutes. Add fish sauce and check to taste. It should be aromatic, spicy and salty (and a little tart and sweet from the tamarind.)
Add the shallots, tomatoes, and mushrooms. Bring to a boil again for 2 minutes.
Turn off the heat. Squeeze the lime juice into it.
Pour over the chicken/seafood in individual bowls. Top with the cilantro leaves.
Serve at once with jasmine rice.
It also happens to be extraordinarily easy provided you have the right ingredients.
At its heart, it involves the simmering of extraordinarily fresh ingredients and then topping with some protein and aromatics.
Once again, it's a meta-recipe where you can have tom yum goong (shrimp) or tom yum gai (chicken) or tom yum talay (mixed seafood.)
David Thompson's recipe is ultra-minimalist and ultra-purist and it would work if the CC lived in a tropical climate and had access to the very best of produce in large quantities. It also eliminates shallots which is fine for royal cuisine but that's not what you're getting on the street.
Not having access to that quality of produce perenially, the CC's version is closer to that of Kasma Loha-Unchit's which tweaks the parameters to get the same taste profile.
The soup is an exercise in freshness. Simmer it at the last moment. Ideally, the boiling hot soup should be poured over the fresh meat/seafood and served at once. They will cook in the boiling broth and be both perfectly cooked and tender at the same time.
The CC once had a the sister of a friend who refused to eat barely cooked shrimp until we persuaded her to try it. Then she wanted seconds and thirds (of which alas, there were none!) A convert to the excellence of barely cooked seafood.
The existence of this soup on menus across the country may be a cliché but there's a solid reason it is one. It's a masterpiece of flavor.
Ingredients
3 cups water
1 small block tamarind
3-5 kaffir lime leaves
3 pieces lemongrass (sliced at a diagonal, pounded lightly)
1" galangal (sliced, pounded lightly)
3-4 Thai chillies (or to taste)
1 tbsp nahm prik pao (roasted chili paste/jam)
2 shallots (sliced lengthwise into thin slivers)
1 small tomato (sliced into quarters)
1/2 cup straw mushrooms
fish sauce (to taste)
chicken/shrimp/seafood
1-2 limes
cilantro leaves
Note 1: It's best to use water rather than broth. You get a very sharp clear taste profile. Broth muddies the waters so to speak. Think of it as the difference between limpid watercolors and an oil painting.
Note 2: The fresher the chicken/shrimp/seafood and also the aromatics, the more this soup will shine.
Note 3: The chicken should be sliced thinly against the bias. The shrimp can be left whole. The seafood should also be sliced finely.
Note 4: Since the galangal, lemongrass and kaffir lime leaves are not eaten, technically you could strain it. That's not the Thai way and yet the CC has seen it done in a superb "fancy" Thai restaurant in Manila.
Note 5: Scallions are fairly traditional too but the CC doesn't like the clash between the shallots, scallions and cilantro. He likes the sharper watercolor flavors.
Note 6: There are excellent brands of nahm prik pao on the market. No artificial ingredients, etc. You could be a purist and make it but the CC finds that these are not just acceptable but positively excellent.
Note 7: The CC would like to draw your attention to a powerful concept. The idea of a background "mellow" sourness (tamarind) allied with a perfumed "fresh" sourness (lime). You will see this idea as a conceptual framework all along Southeast Asia whether it's kudampuli + lime (South India) or dried raw mango (aamchur) + lime (North India) or tamarind/vinegar/raw mango + calamansi (Philippines.) You'll see it Italy too (vinegar + lemon). It's an extraordinarily potent idea.
Recipe
Smash the galangal and lemongrass lightly. Add them, the chillies and kaffir lime leaves to the water.
In a separate bowl, pour hot water over tamarind and let it soak for 20 minutes. Strain through a fine sieve into the same bowl of liquid. Discard the remnants.
Bring the liquid to a boil. When it is boiling, turn the heat down to a low simmer. Add the nahm prik pao and let it simmer for 10 minutes. Add fish sauce and check to taste. It should be aromatic, spicy and salty (and a little tart and sweet from the tamarind.)
Add the shallots, tomatoes, and mushrooms. Bring to a boil again for 2 minutes.
Turn off the heat. Squeeze the lime juice into it.
Pour over the chicken/seafood in individual bowls. Top with the cilantro leaves.
Serve at once with jasmine rice.
Labels:
chicken,
cilantro,
fish sauce,
galangal,
kaffir lime leaves,
lemongrass,
lime,
meta-recipe,
nahm prik pao,
recipe,
shrimp,
soup,
straw mushrooms,
tamarind,
thai
Monday, September 19, 2016
Tom Kha
No, the CC hasn't lost his marbles. He knows that the soup is uniformly referred to as tom kha gai in the US except that the soup is not a soup and the "gai" (chicken) is basically optional.
It's really a family of stews at the heart of it.
For starters, there is neither the concept of "soup" nor that of "courses" in Thai cooking. A rich dish such as this would be served with rice and it would be a blowout meal (because of its richness.)
The tom roughly suggests a soup or a stew and the kha refers to galangal. Substitutions are pointless since galangal is the main feature.
Secondly, it's really a meta-dish in the sense that the basic stew is prepared first and then other stuff added. You can have tom kha tao-hoo (with tofu) , tom kha hoi (with shellfish), tom kha talay (with mixed seafood), etc.
The dish is all about the aroma, and you have an insanely umami-laden broth with a mildly sweet, savory, sour broth and a solid kick on the back-end.
The CC will provide a recipe with a mild variant that he once had — it had a slight amount of pandanus (screwpine).
Superb in every way.
Ingredients
3 cups coconut milk
3 cups chicken broth (substitute with water)
1 stalk lemongrass (sliced on a bias)
10 pieces of sliced galangal
2 chillies
1 piece pandanus
2 cilantro roots
3 kaffir lime leaves
1 tbsp palm sugar
fish sauce
12 pieces chicken (sliced against the bias into thin slices)
1 cup straw mushrooms
2 shallots (sliced lengthwise)
1-2 lime(s)
1/3 cup cilantro leaves
Note: The chicken is cut into very small pieces. It's poached in the broth. This preserves its tenderness because it's barely cooked through.
Recipe
Smash the lemongrass, galangal, and cilantro roots gently in a mortar and pestle. Add them to the coconut milk, broth, chillies, pandanus, palm sugar, and kaffir lime leaves. Bring to a boil. Simmer very gently at a low heat for 12-15 minutes.
Add fish sauce to taste (this provides the salt.)
Taste it. It should be intense, faintly sweet and fragrant. It will become tart once you add the lime later.
(Technically, you can strain it at this point but that's not the Thai way.)
You can stop the process here if you like. (Remember it's all about the smell and it dissipates so don't wait too long.)
When ready to serve with jasmine rice, bring once again to a boil. Turn off the heat. Add the chicken, mushrooms, shallots, and lime. Let it sit for 3-4 minutes.
Serve with the cilantro leaves on top.
It's really a family of stews at the heart of it.
For starters, there is neither the concept of "soup" nor that of "courses" in Thai cooking. A rich dish such as this would be served with rice and it would be a blowout meal (because of its richness.)
The tom roughly suggests a soup or a stew and the kha refers to galangal. Substitutions are pointless since galangal is the main feature.
Secondly, it's really a meta-dish in the sense that the basic stew is prepared first and then other stuff added. You can have tom kha tao-hoo (with tofu) , tom kha hoi (with shellfish), tom kha talay (with mixed seafood), etc.
The dish is all about the aroma, and you have an insanely umami-laden broth with a mildly sweet, savory, sour broth and a solid kick on the back-end.
The CC will provide a recipe with a mild variant that he once had — it had a slight amount of pandanus (screwpine).
Superb in every way.
Ingredients
3 cups coconut milk
3 cups chicken broth (substitute with water)
1 stalk lemongrass (sliced on a bias)
10 pieces of sliced galangal
2 chillies
1 piece pandanus
2 cilantro roots
3 kaffir lime leaves
1 tbsp palm sugar
fish sauce
12 pieces chicken (sliced against the bias into thin slices)
1 cup straw mushrooms
2 shallots (sliced lengthwise)
1-2 lime(s)
1/3 cup cilantro leaves
Note: The chicken is cut into very small pieces. It's poached in the broth. This preserves its tenderness because it's barely cooked through.
Recipe
Smash the lemongrass, galangal, and cilantro roots gently in a mortar and pestle. Add them to the coconut milk, broth, chillies, pandanus, palm sugar, and kaffir lime leaves. Bring to a boil. Simmer very gently at a low heat for 12-15 minutes.
Add fish sauce to taste (this provides the salt.)
Taste it. It should be intense, faintly sweet and fragrant. It will become tart once you add the lime later.
(Technically, you can strain it at this point but that's not the Thai way.)
You can stop the process here if you like. (Remember it's all about the smell and it dissipates so don't wait too long.)
When ready to serve with jasmine rice, bring once again to a boil. Turn off the heat. Add the chicken, mushrooms, shallots, and lime. Let it sit for 3-4 minutes.
Serve with the cilantro leaves on top.
Labels:
chicken,
chillies,
cilantro,
cilantro roots,
coconut,
coconut milk,
galangal,
jasmine rice,
lemongrass,
meta-recipe,
mussels,
pandanus,
recipe,
rice,
seafood,
shallots,
thai
Tuesday, September 6, 2016
The Dark Side of Food
One of the most important concepts associated with food is that it is pretty much the only activity that we do daily. There's also shitting but that's the end result of eating.
We eat to live. Literally. Our bodies are just a mechanism by which food gets transformed into fuel for our brain.
Every other activity that we do daily is basically optional but not eating.
There are many consequences to this simple observation. We'll proceed from the relatively trivial to the relatively profound.
No, your mother's version of that dish is not the "best". It's not even "typical". It's probably even shit. Let's start with that.
It's just something you ate on a daily basis and hence established the basis on which you rest your (very shaky) foundation of food. You may even perpetuate that because it's the only thing that you know. If you want to break out of the arbitrariness of your birth, and it is extraordinarily hard to do so, then you must first accept this brutal fact.
Did you notice that the CC referred to your mother's cooking as "shit"?
Notice how the metaphor neatly connects to food. We work symbolically through food. Everything from "no free lunch" to "corny" to "sour grapes" to "dish fit for the gods" — Shakespeare made the last one up as he did also "salad days", "in a pickle" and "the milk of human kindness".
There are literally no languages that don't have wondrous phrases related to food. It's so elemental that it's taken for granted. Everything from "essere buono come il pane" ("to be as good as bread" = "as good as gold") to 羊頭狗肉 ("sheep's head, dog meat" = "false advertising".)
Since eating is literally the only mandatory activity that we do, it goes without surprise that it's the ideal mechanism of enforcing group conformity.
There are absolutely no religions in the world that don't have a mandatory taboo on some form of eating. Judaism has kosher laws, the various religions in India have strange forms of vegetarianism, Christianity imposed rules of eating on Fridays, etc.
Needless to say this is all bullshit. Humans are famously omnivore. What one group eschews another embraces. The Chinese would laugh at the Jews. The meat-eaters mock the vegetarians. Fish on Fridays? Please.
Notice the bullshit metaphor also works via food. The only thing worse than your own shit would be the shit of a bull.
These rules have nothing to do with food and everything to do with enforcing group identity. You define yourself not only by what you are but also but what you are not.
The group identity mechanism works via what the Japanese would call 内外 ("uchi-soto" = "inside-outside"). Follow the food rules and you're an insider. Don't and you will be brutally excommunicated.
Lest you think that this mechanism is "religious" in nature, the CC will be happy to pontificate.
Try arguing barbecue in the US. There's great barbecue everywhere from Virginia to South Carolina to Kentucky to Texas. However, none of these groups agree with each other. Everyone seems to think their own version is the "best" — an entirely laughable notion that any outsider (like the CC!) might care to disabuse them of. They're all great; they are just different.
So you see, your mother's version of that dish is not the "best". It's your own fierce form of enforcing identity. You are sticking by what little you know and even if your mother is a terrific cook, you are trying futilely to convince others that it is food fit for the gods.
The most famous example of this "food as identity" enforcement was the Spanish Reconquista — the re-establishment of Christian rule in Spain. The Arabs and the Jews were forced at sword-point to eat pork in public as proof of their "conversion" to Christianity. The Spanish then took their concept to the Philippines which had no particular ban on pork and hence turned the pig into a newly formed "religion".
The great ramen maker, Momofuku Ando, neatly also turned these religious identity rules to his advantage by casually observing that there was no religion in the world that didn't embrace the chicken. The first ramen noodle flavor was chicken. (He wasn't particularly interested in the vegetarians.)
Which brings us to the fact that vegetarianism is another example of an entirely post-facto-rationalized system erected on extraordinarily shaky foundations.
Humans are omnivorous. We will literally eat anything which you can plainly observe because what one country or ethnic group rejects, another will happily eat. Since they all can't be right and they're all equally human, it stands to reason that they all must be wrong.
Science backs it up in spades. We are omnivorous, and we definitely evolved because of our capacity to eat meat. Arthur Clarke famously points this out in 2001: A Space Odyssey and Kubrick gives this profound notion the utmost respect by filming it most memorably with a magnificent jump-cut.
We even have specialized meat receptors in our stomachs. Evolution at its finest. It gave us a powerful concentrated source of fuel and pushed our brains to much larger sizes.
Is there a point to this depressing discourse which is almost tailor-made to offend just about everyone? Why yes, there most certainly is.
If you really want to get to understand another culture, the ideal mechanism is through its food. Not only will you be wearing a different identity, it will make it far easier to discard your own. Discarding your identity is not for the weak. You will be left adrift and will be forced to fend on your own. The group enforcement mechanism will kick in dressed in full riot gear.
However, it's one of the few ways to throw off the arbitrariness of your birth (which you had no choice over) and get to enter into entirely new mindsets.
When phrased like that, you're looking at the greatest adventure in life. Needless to say, it's highly recommended.
We eat to live. Literally. Our bodies are just a mechanism by which food gets transformed into fuel for our brain.
Every other activity that we do daily is basically optional but not eating.
There are many consequences to this simple observation. We'll proceed from the relatively trivial to the relatively profound.
No, your mother's version of that dish is not the "best". It's not even "typical". It's probably even shit. Let's start with that.
It's just something you ate on a daily basis and hence established the basis on which you rest your (very shaky) foundation of food. You may even perpetuate that because it's the only thing that you know. If you want to break out of the arbitrariness of your birth, and it is extraordinarily hard to do so, then you must first accept this brutal fact.
Did you notice that the CC referred to your mother's cooking as "shit"?
Notice how the metaphor neatly connects to food. We work symbolically through food. Everything from "no free lunch" to "corny" to "sour grapes" to "dish fit for the gods" — Shakespeare made the last one up as he did also "salad days", "in a pickle" and "the milk of human kindness".
There are literally no languages that don't have wondrous phrases related to food. It's so elemental that it's taken for granted. Everything from "essere buono come il pane" ("to be as good as bread" = "as good as gold") to 羊頭狗肉 ("sheep's head, dog meat" = "false advertising".)
Since eating is literally the only mandatory activity that we do, it goes without surprise that it's the ideal mechanism of enforcing group conformity.
There are absolutely no religions in the world that don't have a mandatory taboo on some form of eating. Judaism has kosher laws, the various religions in India have strange forms of vegetarianism, Christianity imposed rules of eating on Fridays, etc.
Needless to say this is all bullshit. Humans are famously omnivore. What one group eschews another embraces. The Chinese would laugh at the Jews. The meat-eaters mock the vegetarians. Fish on Fridays? Please.
Notice the bullshit metaphor also works via food. The only thing worse than your own shit would be the shit of a bull.
These rules have nothing to do with food and everything to do with enforcing group identity. You define yourself not only by what you are but also but what you are not.
The group identity mechanism works via what the Japanese would call 内外 ("uchi-soto" = "inside-outside"). Follow the food rules and you're an insider. Don't and you will be brutally excommunicated.
Lest you think that this mechanism is "religious" in nature, the CC will be happy to pontificate.
Try arguing barbecue in the US. There's great barbecue everywhere from Virginia to South Carolina to Kentucky to Texas. However, none of these groups agree with each other. Everyone seems to think their own version is the "best" — an entirely laughable notion that any outsider (like the CC!) might care to disabuse them of. They're all great; they are just different.
So you see, your mother's version of that dish is not the "best". It's your own fierce form of enforcing identity. You are sticking by what little you know and even if your mother is a terrific cook, you are trying futilely to convince others that it is food fit for the gods.
The most famous example of this "food as identity" enforcement was the Spanish Reconquista — the re-establishment of Christian rule in Spain. The Arabs and the Jews were forced at sword-point to eat pork in public as proof of their "conversion" to Christianity. The Spanish then took their concept to the Philippines which had no particular ban on pork and hence turned the pig into a newly formed "religion".
The great ramen maker, Momofuku Ando, neatly also turned these religious identity rules to his advantage by casually observing that there was no religion in the world that didn't embrace the chicken. The first ramen noodle flavor was chicken. (He wasn't particularly interested in the vegetarians.)
Which brings us to the fact that vegetarianism is another example of an entirely post-facto-rationalized system erected on extraordinarily shaky foundations.
Humans are omnivorous. We will literally eat anything which you can plainly observe because what one country or ethnic group rejects, another will happily eat. Since they all can't be right and they're all equally human, it stands to reason that they all must be wrong.
Science backs it up in spades. We are omnivorous, and we definitely evolved because of our capacity to eat meat. Arthur Clarke famously points this out in 2001: A Space Odyssey and Kubrick gives this profound notion the utmost respect by filming it most memorably with a magnificent jump-cut.
We even have specialized meat receptors in our stomachs. Evolution at its finest. It gave us a powerful concentrated source of fuel and pushed our brains to much larger sizes.
Is there a point to this depressing discourse which is almost tailor-made to offend just about everyone? Why yes, there most certainly is.
If you really want to get to understand another culture, the ideal mechanism is through its food. Not only will you be wearing a different identity, it will make it far easier to discard your own. Discarding your identity is not for the weak. You will be left adrift and will be forced to fend on your own. The group enforcement mechanism will kick in dressed in full riot gear.
However, it's one of the few ways to throw off the arbitrariness of your birth (which you had no choice over) and get to enter into entirely new mindsets.
When phrased like that, you're looking at the greatest adventure in life. Needless to say, it's highly recommended.
Friday, April 18, 2014
Fowl Technical Tricks
One of the ways in which great chefs distinguish themselves from routine ones is a whole array of technical tricks that make all the difference in the world.
Here's one that works wonders. It will give the chicken a depth of flavor even if you use it in a context where the crispiness of the skin is not important.
The magical step is to first pan-sear the chicken in duck fat. Of course, Maestro Maillard† is doing his magic. The chicken is then lifted out, blotted, and the fat is discarded.
There is an additional advantage here. You need to wash the chicken and dry it before you pan-fry it but you don't need to cut off the fat. The fat will get rendered and "disappear" and you won't need to deal with it. Laziness raised to pure perfection in the arms of technique!
You can then proceed to make the chicken in whatever fashion you like. Even in a conventional stew or soup, the difference is striking. The CC has had friends ask if the dish was cooked in "tons of butter"? Not even close.
The dish below is a classic Moroccan dish. It's the "little black dress" of Moroccan cooking. You need to have it in your repertoire. It's a total crowd-pleaser and one for the ages.
If you don't have a tagine use a solid pot that you can seal with foil. The seal is necessary.
Why is something so simple so magical?
Three reasons.
Firstly, the Maillard reaction with the chicken plus the miniscule remnants of the duck fat on the surface cells which make their way into the sauce. Secondly, the depth of flavor by a long slow braise where the chicken effectively cooks in its own juices. Lastly, the intense burst of both flavor and umami from the preserved lemons which add a delectable citrus note as a baseline flavor. The fresh herbs add their own contribution as well.
Is this technique "traditional" (whatever the hell that word means)?
The answer is borderline. Traditionally, the meat is not seared in the classical Moroccan tradition but the CC is willing to bet a substantial amount of money that this is the way that true geniuses make the dish even while avowing the technique. Ultimately, it's the end that matters and the end is scrumptious!
Chicken Tagine with Preserved Lemons & Green Olives
(serves 4)
Ingredients
4 chicken thighs
1 large onion (grated)
2 preserved lemons
2 cups green olives (pitted)
1/2 cup parsley (finely chopped)
1/2 cup cilantro (finely chopped)
1 tbsp. coriander seeds
1 1/2 tbsp. cumin seeds
1 tbsp. whole black pepper
1/2 tbsp. dried ginger
1/2 tbsp. sweet paprika
large pinch of saffron
2 cups chicken broth
salt
3 tbsp. duck fat
Recipe
Dry roast the coriander, cumin and black pepper in a skillet and grind them finely in a coffee grinder. Combine with the dried ginger, sweet paprika and saffron and set aside.
Prepare the preserved lemons. Discard the innards retaining only the skin. It will peel off easily. Chop in to strips about 1" long. This means first chop them length-wise into thin strips and then halve them. Set aside.
For the olives, there are two schools of thought. Those that prefer them left whole and those that halve them length-wise. The CC is mystified why the world would be so divided (pun intended!) since it makes so little difference to the end result but as the Japanese might say, 十人十色 ("ten people, ten colors" = "different strokes for different folks").
In a flat pan, heat up the duck fat and fry the chicken thighs until they are lightly browned on both sides. Roughly 10 minutes. Lift out and set aside. Discard the fat.
Meanwhile grate the onion with a box grater. Set aside.
Assemble the tagine.
Combine the grated onions, salt, broth, and the spices and put them in the tagine. Add the chicken. Cover it and let it cook at the lowest possible heat for 35 minutes. (The chicken should be very tender at this point.)
Add the preserved lemons, olives, the two greens and combine.
You can let it sit at this point and reheat gently in the tagine when your guests arrive.
Serve over couscous. (Recipe below.)
Couscous with Chickpeas, Raisins & Scallions
(serves 4 generously)
Ingredients
2 cups couscous
1/2 cup chickpeas
1 cup raisins
2 scallions
2 tbsp. cultured butter
2 1/2 cups water
salt
Recipe
The CC is perfectly aware of the fact that, theoretically speaking, couscous should be steamed but you can't get that kind of couscous even in New York so you live with the brute reality that you have on the ground.
Cook the chickpeas ahead of time. They need to be al dente.
Add all the ingredients to a pot except the couscous and bring to a boil. Add the couscous and turn the heat off. Wait 5 minutes. Fluff it to get perfectly cooked couscous.
† The Mallard is a wild duck which makes the pun with Maillard all too irresistible.
Here's one that works wonders. It will give the chicken a depth of flavor even if you use it in a context where the crispiness of the skin is not important.
The magical step is to first pan-sear the chicken in duck fat. Of course, Maestro Maillard† is doing his magic. The chicken is then lifted out, blotted, and the fat is discarded.
There is an additional advantage here. You need to wash the chicken and dry it before you pan-fry it but you don't need to cut off the fat. The fat will get rendered and "disappear" and you won't need to deal with it. Laziness raised to pure perfection in the arms of technique!
You can then proceed to make the chicken in whatever fashion you like. Even in a conventional stew or soup, the difference is striking. The CC has had friends ask if the dish was cooked in "tons of butter"? Not even close.
The dish below is a classic Moroccan dish. It's the "little black dress" of Moroccan cooking. You need to have it in your repertoire. It's a total crowd-pleaser and one for the ages.
If you don't have a tagine use a solid pot that you can seal with foil. The seal is necessary.
Why is something so simple so magical?
Three reasons.
Firstly, the Maillard reaction with the chicken plus the miniscule remnants of the duck fat on the surface cells which make their way into the sauce. Secondly, the depth of flavor by a long slow braise where the chicken effectively cooks in its own juices. Lastly, the intense burst of both flavor and umami from the preserved lemons which add a delectable citrus note as a baseline flavor. The fresh herbs add their own contribution as well.
Is this technique "traditional" (whatever the hell that word means)?
The answer is borderline. Traditionally, the meat is not seared in the classical Moroccan tradition but the CC is willing to bet a substantial amount of money that this is the way that true geniuses make the dish even while avowing the technique. Ultimately, it's the end that matters and the end is scrumptious!
Chicken Tagine with Preserved Lemons & Green Olives
(serves 4)
Ingredients
4 chicken thighs
1 large onion (grated)
2 preserved lemons
2 cups green olives (pitted)
1/2 cup parsley (finely chopped)
1/2 cup cilantro (finely chopped)
1 tbsp. coriander seeds
1 1/2 tbsp. cumin seeds
1 tbsp. whole black pepper
1/2 tbsp. dried ginger
1/2 tbsp. sweet paprika
large pinch of saffron
2 cups chicken broth
salt
3 tbsp. duck fat
Recipe
Dry roast the coriander, cumin and black pepper in a skillet and grind them finely in a coffee grinder. Combine with the dried ginger, sweet paprika and saffron and set aside.
Prepare the preserved lemons. Discard the innards retaining only the skin. It will peel off easily. Chop in to strips about 1" long. This means first chop them length-wise into thin strips and then halve them. Set aside.
For the olives, there are two schools of thought. Those that prefer them left whole and those that halve them length-wise. The CC is mystified why the world would be so divided (pun intended!) since it makes so little difference to the end result but as the Japanese might say, 十人十色 ("ten people, ten colors" = "different strokes for different folks").
In a flat pan, heat up the duck fat and fry the chicken thighs until they are lightly browned on both sides. Roughly 10 minutes. Lift out and set aside. Discard the fat.
Meanwhile grate the onion with a box grater. Set aside.
Assemble the tagine.
Combine the grated onions, salt, broth, and the spices and put them in the tagine. Add the chicken. Cover it and let it cook at the lowest possible heat for 35 minutes. (The chicken should be very tender at this point.)
Add the preserved lemons, olives, the two greens and combine.
You can let it sit at this point and reheat gently in the tagine when your guests arrive.
Serve over couscous. (Recipe below.)
Couscous with Chickpeas, Raisins & Scallions
(serves 4 generously)
Ingredients
2 cups couscous
1/2 cup chickpeas
1 cup raisins
2 scallions
2 tbsp. cultured butter
2 1/2 cups water
salt
Recipe
The CC is perfectly aware of the fact that, theoretically speaking, couscous should be steamed but you can't get that kind of couscous even in New York so you live with the brute reality that you have on the ground.
Cook the chickpeas ahead of time. They need to be al dente.
Add all the ingredients to a pot except the couscous and bring to a boil. Add the couscous and turn the heat off. Wait 5 minutes. Fluff it to get perfectly cooked couscous.
† The Mallard is a wild duck which makes the pun with Maillard all too irresistible.
Labels:
chicken,
duck fat,
green olives,
moroccan,
pheasant,
preserved lemons,
quail,
science
Friday, May 17, 2013
Sopa de Lima
This is a superb one-pot meal. It's from the Yucatán region and resembles the classic tortilla soup except that it has different spices and the strong tang of limas - similar to but not the same as the easily available Persian limes.
The classical dish calls for both gizzards and liver so this is definitely a "simplified" version.
Ingredients
Tortilla Chips
6 corn tortillas
1 cup "neutral" oil (corn or rice)
Sopa
1 1/2 cup chopped white onion
4 cloves garlic (minced)
1 habañero chile (minced)
2 tbsp oil
1/2 tbsp ground cloves
1/4 tbsp ground cinnamon
1 tbsp dried Mexican oregano
6 cups chicken stock
1 cup canned crushed tomatoes
1 1/2 lbs chicken thighs (with the bone)
1/2 cup lime juice
2 avocados (chopped)
cilantro (chopped with stems)
Recipe
The tortillas are for making chips. You can also buy these ready-made if you have access to good ones. If not, you must dry out the tortillas overnight, cut them up and fry them in the oil till crisp. Drain on paper towels.
Heat up the 2 tbsp of oil. Fry the onions until translucent about 5 minutes. Add the garlic, habañero, cloves and cinnamon and fry for a few more minutes.
Add the peeled chopped tomatoes, the stock, oregano and chicken. Bring to a simmer and reduce the heat to a low simmer. Cover and cook for about 75 minutes till the chicken is cooked through.
(Just to point out that most recipe writers are bollocky bitches and bastards, most suggest a 20-minute simmer. It took more than 60 minutes to get the thighs to be tender, and there was nothing remotely special about the CC's chicken.)
Pull out the chicken using a pair of tongs. Shred it with a fork and toss the bones away. Add it back to the pot. Add salt to taste and some of the lime shells. Cook for 10 more minutes. Fish the lime shells out.
Add the lime juice just before serving.
Serve garnished with the fried tortilla chips, chopped avocados and cilantro.
The classical dish calls for both gizzards and liver so this is definitely a "simplified" version.
Ingredients
Tortilla Chips
6 corn tortillas
1 cup "neutral" oil (corn or rice)
Sopa
1 1/2 cup chopped white onion
4 cloves garlic (minced)
1 habañero chile (minced)
2 tbsp oil
1/2 tbsp ground cloves
1/4 tbsp ground cinnamon
1 tbsp dried Mexican oregano
6 cups chicken stock
1 cup canned crushed tomatoes
1 1/2 lbs chicken thighs (with the bone)
1/2 cup lime juice
2 avocados (chopped)
cilantro (chopped with stems)
Recipe
The tortillas are for making chips. You can also buy these ready-made if you have access to good ones. If not, you must dry out the tortillas overnight, cut them up and fry them in the oil till crisp. Drain on paper towels.
Heat up the 2 tbsp of oil. Fry the onions until translucent about 5 minutes. Add the garlic, habañero, cloves and cinnamon and fry for a few more minutes.
Add the peeled chopped tomatoes, the stock, oregano and chicken. Bring to a simmer and reduce the heat to a low simmer. Cover and cook for about 75 minutes till the chicken is cooked through.
(Just to point out that most recipe writers are bollocky bitches and bastards, most suggest a 20-minute simmer. It took more than 60 minutes to get the thighs to be tender, and there was nothing remotely special about the CC's chicken.)
Pull out the chicken using a pair of tongs. Shred it with a fork and toss the bones away. Add it back to the pot. Add salt to taste and some of the lime shells. Cook for 10 more minutes. Fish the lime shells out.
Add the lime juice just before serving.
Serve garnished with the fried tortilla chips, chopped avocados and cilantro.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Buttermilk Roast Chicken & Green Bean Salad
This is the closest you are likely to come to the ethereal ideal of the Southern fried chicken without frying the chicken.
It pulls out all the tricks of marination to make it memorable.
Most importantly, it can all be made ahead of time and quickly assembled on a Monday (attn: office monkeys!)
Also, this assembly totally and utterly rocks for a picnic (or an office) eaten at room temperature.
For the vegetarians, the side salad is slap-your-mama good™ so there's something in here for everyone.
It just requires a tiny bit of effort ahead of time. For about 5 minutes. Surely even you have that!

Ingredients (Buttermilk Roast Chicken)
8 chicken thighs, or legs (with skin)
2 cups buttermilk
5 cloves garlic (smashed)
1 tbsp sweet paprika
4 tbsp fresh ground pepper
2 tbsp sea salt
Recipe
Marinate the chicken with the buttermilk, smashed garlic, sweet paprika, pepper and sea salt for at least 24 hours. Preferably 48.
Preheat the oven to 425°F.
On a baking dish, arrange the chicken legs. (Throw the marinade away.) Drizzle with olive oil lightly and sprinkle some more paprika, sea salt and black pepper.
Roast for roughly 30 minutes until they are a bit brown.
Ingredients (Green Bean Salad)
1 lb green beans (trimmed)
1 large red onion
2 stalks celery
4 radishes (sliced real thin)
1/2 cup whole almonds
1/4 cup red wine vinegar
1/4 cup water
2 tbsp sugar
1 tsp sea salt
olive oil
Recipe
Slice the onion into really fine rings.
Whisk the vinegar, water, sugar and the sea salt together. Soak the onion rings in the mixture for at least 30 minutes, preferably an hour.
Heat a small skillet with the olive oil. Fry the almonds until they are golden. Remove and let cool. When cool, cut into halves or thirds. (Yes, this matters. Roasting the almonds is simply not the same here.)
Assemble an ice bath. Water + Ice.
Heat a pot of water. Dunk the trimmed beans into the boiling water for about 5-6 minutes until tender. Dump out the water. Dump the beans into the ice-bath.
Remove the onions from the pickling liquid. Keep the liquid.
Assemble the salad. Beans, celery, radishes, almonds.
Make a vinaigrette with the pickling liquid and toss everything together.
Slap-your-mama™ while eating!
It pulls out all the tricks of marination to make it memorable.
Most importantly, it can all be made ahead of time and quickly assembled on a Monday (attn: office monkeys!)
Also, this assembly totally and utterly rocks for a picnic (or an office) eaten at room temperature.
For the vegetarians, the side salad is slap-your-mama good™ so there's something in here for everyone.
It just requires a tiny bit of effort ahead of time. For about 5 minutes. Surely even you have that!
Ingredients (Buttermilk Roast Chicken)
8 chicken thighs, or legs (with skin)
2 cups buttermilk
5 cloves garlic (smashed)
1 tbsp sweet paprika
4 tbsp fresh ground pepper
2 tbsp sea salt
Recipe
Marinate the chicken with the buttermilk, smashed garlic, sweet paprika, pepper and sea salt for at least 24 hours. Preferably 48.
Preheat the oven to 425°F.
On a baking dish, arrange the chicken legs. (Throw the marinade away.) Drizzle with olive oil lightly and sprinkle some more paprika, sea salt and black pepper.
Roast for roughly 30 minutes until they are a bit brown.
Ingredients (Green Bean Salad)
1 lb green beans (trimmed)
1 large red onion
2 stalks celery
4 radishes (sliced real thin)
1/2 cup whole almonds
1/4 cup red wine vinegar
1/4 cup water
2 tbsp sugar
1 tsp sea salt
olive oil
Recipe
Slice the onion into really fine rings.
Whisk the vinegar, water, sugar and the sea salt together. Soak the onion rings in the mixture for at least 30 minutes, preferably an hour.
Heat a small skillet with the olive oil. Fry the almonds until they are golden. Remove and let cool. When cool, cut into halves or thirds. (Yes, this matters. Roasting the almonds is simply not the same here.)
Assemble an ice bath. Water + Ice.
Heat a pot of water. Dunk the trimmed beans into the boiling water for about 5-6 minutes until tender. Dump out the water. Dump the beans into the ice-bath.
Remove the onions from the pickling liquid. Keep the liquid.
Assemble the salad. Beans, celery, radishes, almonds.
Make a vinaigrette with the pickling liquid and toss everything together.
Slap-your-mama™ while eating!
Labels:
almonds,
buttermilk,
celery,
chicken,
green beans,
paprika,
pickled onions,
radishes
Monday, June 13, 2011
Butter Massage
From the inimitable Julia Child:
"Not everything I do with my roast chicken is necessarily scientific. For instance, I always give my bird a generous butter massage before I put it in the oven. Why? Because I think the chicken likes it -- and, more important, I like to give it."
Labels:
butter,
chicken,
personality,
rave
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Indonesian Meal
Making nasi lemak with the traditional ikan bilis, sambal chicken, and all the other fixins.
Pictures to follow.
Pictures to follow.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Oh, The Horror, The Horror!
Today, while idly searching the web, the CC came across recipes for "no-rice risotto".
Really people?!?
Heck, even the Italians have experimented with variations with barley and spelt (and generally treated the results with various degrees of horror) but seriously?!?
No-rice in risotto which quite literally is etymologically related to rice?
Next up: roasted chicken minus the roasting or the chicken.
Really people?!?
Heck, even the Italians have experimented with variations with barley and spelt (and generally treated the results with various degrees of horror) but seriously?!?
No-rice in risotto which quite literally is etymologically related to rice?
Next up: roasted chicken minus the roasting or the chicken.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Poetic Linguistics
Oyako don is a donburi (Japanese rice bowl dish) made with chicken, rice and a scrambled egg on top.
oya = parent
ko = child
oyako = parent and child
The chicken is the parent and the egg is the child.
oya = parent
ko = child
oyako = parent and child
The chicken is the parent and the egg is the child.
Labels:
chicken,
eggs,
japanese,
linguistics
Monday, March 16, 2009
Grilling Tandoori Chicken
The general recipe has been posted here.The CC works his ass off, and people want originality but they don't bother reading all the good stuff that has been published before.
Of such laziness is a readership made!
Labels:
chicken,
indian,
north indian,
recipe
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Howto: Chicken Broth
This is laughably simple to make. All you require is time -- it doesn't even take effort. Far too many people are intimidated by what is actually absurdly elementary.
Please read this post if you haven't done so already.
The CC prefers to keep his chicken stock basic. No fancy flavorings so that he can control for that in whatever he uses it.
Ingredients
1 large onion (chopped coarsely, leave the skin on)
2 carrots
1 stick celery
chicken bones and parts
olive oil
1 tbsp black peppercorns
2 bay leaves
sea salt
Recipe
Chop the onions and carrots coarsely. Leave the skin on. It just doesn't matter.
Fry the onions languidly at a low heat. Add the carrots and celery and fry for at least 6-8 minutes. Add the chicken and fry for a while. Add the peppercorns and bay leaves.
Then, and this is the most important part, add a large quantity of cold water.
Let it heat up slowly. Simmer for at least 4 hours, skimming the foam that comes up periodically. You will have to keep skimming; this is the hardest part.
Strain the broth discarding the bones and solids. Add adequate salt to preserve it. Let the pot sit in your refrigerator overnight. The fat will come to the surface and solidify. Skim one last time, and you have your broth.
This freezes beautifully.
Please read this post if you haven't done so already.
The CC prefers to keep his chicken stock basic. No fancy flavorings so that he can control for that in whatever he uses it.
Ingredients
1 large onion (chopped coarsely, leave the skin on)
2 carrots
1 stick celery
chicken bones and parts
olive oil
1 tbsp black peppercorns
2 bay leaves
sea salt
Recipe
Chop the onions and carrots coarsely. Leave the skin on. It just doesn't matter.
Fry the onions languidly at a low heat. Add the carrots and celery and fry for at least 6-8 minutes. Add the chicken and fry for a while. Add the peppercorns and bay leaves.
Then, and this is the most important part, add a large quantity of cold water.
Let it heat up slowly. Simmer for at least 4 hours, skimming the foam that comes up periodically. You will have to keep skimming; this is the hardest part.
Strain the broth discarding the bones and solids. Add adequate salt to preserve it. Let the pot sit in your refrigerator overnight. The fat will come to the surface and solidify. Skim one last time, and you have your broth.
This freezes beautifully.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Butchering a Chicken
Time to move this blog back to its omnivorous roots. Some basic knife skills for leaner times.
(Courtesy: Mike Pardus of the Culinary Inst. of America.)
(Courtesy: Mike Pardus of the Culinary Inst. of America.)
Friday, December 14, 2007
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Tandoori Chicken
The CC is sick of being asked for this recipe, and since I'm making it for a grilling event tomorrow, in the spirit of summer, I'm just going to document it once and for all.
The "magic" of the recipe is in the double marinade. You really can't speed up this process. It has to marinate two nights.
Also, for the "germ-phobes", the recipe was designed to work in a hot climate without any refrigerators. I wanna see what can grow in this absurd level of acidity.
For the record, I'm not going to use that vile food coloring that makes this chicken "pink". This is the real deal. Enjoy!
Marinade 1
8-10 tbsp lime juice or vinegar
1 tbsp red chilli powder (the "Indian" one)
1 tbsp salt.
Marinade 2
yogurt (the sour, greek, strained one not the crap you get!)
1-2 inches of ginger (peeled)
4-6 cloves garlic
5 green chillies (the "Indian" ones. Use serranos as a substitute.)
cilantro
2 tsp cloves
2 bay leaves
4-8 green cardamoms
1 tsp mace
1 tsp nutmeg
2 tsp black peppercorns
2 tsp caraway seeds
2 tbsp salt
Recipe
Mix the first marinade. Rub all over the chickens. Leave overnight.
For the second marinade, grind all of "group 3" in a coffee grinder, grind all of "group 2" in a blender, and mix all three together. You should get greenish-white glop with black flecks from all the spices.
Take each piece of chicken from the first marinade, coat them all over with the yogurt marinade. Pour the rest of the stuff over the chickens, and marinate overnight. (The first marinade gets discarded. Yes, this is correct!)
Grill. Keep basting it with the marinade. (It's not the same as a "tandoor" but it's damn close.)
For the eternally harangued-by-their-job-I-have-no-time-to-cook, the bare minimum is 4 hours for the first, and 8 hours for the second (but don't expect it to taste as good as the real deal.)
The "magic" of the recipe is in the double marinade. You really can't speed up this process. It has to marinate two nights.
Also, for the "germ-phobes", the recipe was designed to work in a hot climate without any refrigerators. I wanna see what can grow in this absurd level of acidity.
For the record, I'm not going to use that vile food coloring that makes this chicken "pink". This is the real deal. Enjoy!
Marinade 1
8-10 tbsp lime juice or vinegar
1 tbsp red chilli powder (the "Indian" one)
1 tbsp salt.
Marinade 2
yogurt (the sour, greek, strained one not the crap you get!)
1-2 inches of ginger (peeled)
4-6 cloves garlic
5 green chillies (the "Indian" ones. Use serranos as a substitute.)
cilantro
2 tsp cloves
2 bay leaves
4-8 green cardamoms
1 tsp mace
1 tsp nutmeg
2 tsp black peppercorns
2 tsp caraway seeds
2 tbsp salt
Recipe
Mix the first marinade. Rub all over the chickens. Leave overnight.
For the second marinade, grind all of "group 3" in a coffee grinder, grind all of "group 2" in a blender, and mix all three together. You should get greenish-white glop with black flecks from all the spices.
Take each piece of chicken from the first marinade, coat them all over with the yogurt marinade. Pour the rest of the stuff over the chickens, and marinate overnight. (The first marinade gets discarded. Yes, this is correct!)
Grill. Keep basting it with the marinade. (It's not the same as a "tandoor" but it's damn close.)
For the eternally harangued-by-their-job-I-have-no-time-to-cook, the bare minimum is 4 hours for the first, and 8 hours for the second (but don't expect it to taste as good as the real deal.)
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