The Cure For Everything Is Salt …
… tears, sweat, and the sea. (Dinesen)
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Chicken Thigh Recipes Slideshow: bonappetit.com.
I haven’t decided whether I like the new Bon Appetit as much as I miss the old one. When the magazine moved from California to Manhattan, it lost long-time editor-in-chief Barbara Fairchild. Adam Rapoport from GQ took over. It’s now a decidedly different magazine.
I can take or leave the infusion of testosterone and swagger, and cooking with/for children is a feature completely lost on me (though that may change as my godchildren get older).
I’ll tell you what, though. I used to read Bon Appetit from cover to cover, clip one or two recipes, and recycle the rest of the magazine. I’ve saved the last two issues–May’s tutorial on perfect pasta was fantastic, and this issue’s segment on chicken thighs is also really good. It’s become my weeknight go-to meal.
This weekend’s cooking adventure, brought to me by the New York Times. I’d clipped a recipe from the Times magazine back in October:
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/11/magazine/11food-t-001.html?scp=1&sq=pane%20integrale&st=cse
Jim Lahey’s commitment to whole-grain, organic, and locally sourced bread really intrigued me. And while I couldn’t exactly follow in his footsteps, I could at least take baby steps in his general direction.
I’ll admit readily that I’m not much of a baker. My grandmother was fantastic at it, she made the yummiest cakes. But I’m more salty/savory, but the thought of baking a loaf of bread every week has a romance to it.
The first thing I thought when I removed the loaf from the dutch oven in which it had been baking was “hmm, it’s going to be hard to make sandwiches out of this one.” In my inexperience, I’d shaped the loaf squat and wide–it resembled a flying saucer. Once I tasted it, though, I was really happy with this first effort. The recipe produced a firm yet moist loaf, and the only surprise to me was the cornmeal I used to dust the top of the bread had formed a fairly crispy crust (note to self, use finely ground cornmeal or flour next time).
I love the fact that all you need to make this bread are the ingredients, a bowl, your hands, a pot, and an oven. No extended kneading required, no high-powered Kitchenaid mixer necessary. Just some time (the first rise takes 12-18 hours). And while it may not compete with the fantastic loaf of bread from Zingerman’s that we devoured earlier this week (thank you, Michael and Denise!), it’s a worthy addition to the table. Sante.
I played around with Alton Brown’s T-Day Gravy recipe for this. I believe that the crux of his plan to make a schmaltz manie was to avoid the napalm-like danger of making a roux, but the resulting gravy ends up tasting a little doughy. So I say that the roux is worth the risk.
Stock:
Gravy:
For stock:
For gravy:
I know it’s almost a week after Thanksgiving, but for posterity, my favorite dressing recipe.
NOTE: you can prepare the wild rice, onion and sausage mixture, and croutons separately the day before. Be sure to bring the ingredients to room temperature by taking them out of the fridge one hour before assembling the dressing (step 5).
Honey P. hated brussels sprouts for more than half a decade. This prep changed his mind:
This recipe was adapted from a recipe Michael sent me. See the original at: http://avenuefood.com/2007/02/21/brussels-sprouts-with-shallot-bacon-and-apple.aspx
What do you make for dinner the weekend after Thanksgiving, when the thought of anything resembling that meal is absolutely unappetizing? Honey P’s response: clam chowder, please.
The original recipe came from Patti Marsh and was published by Cooking Light. Its a fantastic recipe, and Ive altered to Honey P’s yen for a little bit more of everything that makes chowder so good. See the original recipe ….
Last client meeting of the year, completed at 2:39 p.m. Last holiday gift to buy, bought at 4:52 p.m. Last dinner party before leaving for sunny Mexico, 7:00 p.m. Bring it!
Two things done exceptionally right for this meal: I allowed myself a glass of wine while cooking, and I swapped in duck fat for canola oil. Your can find the original chicken and dumplings recipe at Saveur.com—I’ve copied and pasted it below, with my notes inserted parenthetically:
Honey P. tells me that while this wasn’t my best dish ever from the culinary gymnastics perspective (level of technical difficulty, 8), it was fairly phenomenal comfort food (OMG, the dumplings were fantastic and the gravy was TTD) and we could have had fourths. Instead, we sent leftovers home with friends. Today, last business trip of the year (Charleston, stay tuned!). Friday, last round of drinks with the staff for 2007. And Saturday, Cabo, baby!
Eight hours of conference calls today. Literally. And a bunch of vegetables from the farmer’s market threatening to go south. Solution, work at home and pray for changes in schedule. Today’s cooking adventure for me: an improvised gratin.
Where’s my beer? Oh, yah …
I’ve grown accustomed to specifics. Not that I need blow-by-blow and ounce-by-ounce instructions, but enough at least to know I’m heading in the right direction. Which is why I was both intrigued and annoyed by the recipe for Mario Batali’s porchettain the April 2007 issue of Esquire. After spending paragraphs extolling the virtues of bone-in pork shoulder cooked over low heat for hour upon hour, the editors published a recipe for boneless pork shoulder cooked at standard heat for only 120 minutes. Teases.
The impetus for my need, an upcoming dinner party. Some dear friends of ours recently resurrected their movable feast dinner party, in which each couple brings somehing exquisite to contribute to a lovely meal. I wanted to make a roast. Mario’s roast. The one that cooks overnight and fills the house with the scents of rosemary, garlic, and pork. But google as I might, I couldn’t find any guidance past the brief narrative in the magazine. So I adapted a prep treatment from Barbara Kafka’s Roasting. Then there was the question of cooling and storing the pork, which is meant to be cooked overnight, cooled through the day, and then reheated for dinner—placing it into the fridge would be a one-way ticket to congealed toughness. I placed pork consultation call to friend and business partner Michael, and we hatched a plan.
Judith proclaimed the pork a success (very high praise in my book). Here’s the recipe:
The rest of the meal was exquisite as well—a tian of vegetables that I’m going to try to replicate for Sunday dinner, a roasted beet and goat cheese salad with fried capers, fresh bread, homemade spumoni, and pistacchio cookies from a terrific new bakery in Andersonville, Pasticceria Natalina. Here’s to friends who are wonderful chefs and to friends with wine cellars.