Tag: Chicken

Two Chickens, Malibu Coast AVA, Some Hot-Smoked Salmon, and Stock and Soup

The hills were rolling, the mountains captivating, all a transfixing and calming mixture of greens and browns. The drive from Los Angeles to Malibu was a magical journey, the light bouncing off the Pacific Ocean illuminating all. The air was buoyant, the mood light. We lunched al fresco at Malibu Kitchen & Gourmet Country Market, then were on our way to a vineyard, a small plot of Chardonnay planted by Elliott and Lynn Dolin in 2006 on a sloping hill perched high above the ocean. The afternoon was warm, the wine and conversation flowed, and our Central Coast sojourn had begun well.

The Dolins are making Chardonnay, Pinot Noir, and Rosé, and lead (and have led) interesting lives. Over dinner, I spoke with Elliott about Jack Clement, Ray Price, Willie Nelson, and wine. You can read about the couple — and see some photos of their lovingly restored Spanish Colonial Revival home — by clicking here. (Our California trip continued in Santa Barbara and environs, more about which later.)

Like Salmon? It’s a popular fish, of course, in many ways too popular — if you have not read “Four Fish: The Future of the Last Wild Food” you need to — and the farming of it has gotten out of hand. Watch this:

I endeavor at all times to eat only wild salmon, and recently tasted some very fine Sockeye, hot-smoked at Houston’s Ibiza and served with crème fraîche carrying the wonderful flavors of orange and dill. On top, caviar. Delicate and rich, this dish is perfect with a glass of Cava. Here’s my take on the rest of the meal at the restaurant (hint: order a Campari and Soda to begin your meal there). Charles Clark has been in the kitchen at Ibiza for a long time now, and his experience and passion show.

From salmon to chicken, specifically two hens I made last week. One I roasted (garlic slivers under the skin, lemon and onion in the cavity) the other I poached in milk.

Sockeye, hot-smoked

Both tender, both full of flavor. We served then with a simple salad, and I made a soup from leftovers, enriched by a homemade stock. Don’t throw away those carcasses and scraps and offal … instead, save everything and spend a few hours creating something earthy and honest. (Click here for a recipe/method from Jacques Pépin.)

A stock begins …

The soup: onions, celery, carrot, olive oil, stock, and shredded chicken meat, plus heavy cream, cilantro, and basil. Crusty bread, a green salad, and a Chenin Blanc completed the picture.

Vegetables, chicken, and cream: a fine trio.

Two Friends, Two Grills, and Some Great Cooking

Days of yore ...

Days of yore …

I have a friend named Mike Pitzen. I have known him for a long time, going on 30 years. He is a good man, and he is funny, with a sense of humor formed by a rural Wisconsin childhood, an education at the University of Wisconsin, and a levelheaded and pragmatic approach to life. We worked together as counselors at Space Camp, took part in a high-speed chase with Officer Wiley Bibb on an interstate highway in Alabama, and, yesterday, we grilled some very fine meat in Houston.

Mike and I in New York on New Year's Eve, partying with Michelle Shocked.

Mike visited me one year in New York, and we hung out with Michelle Shocked on New Year’s Eve.

Mike has lived here for about 13 years now, and when I decided to move to Houston, this past year, one of the things I looked forward to was reuniting with him. I had not seen Mike in a long while, for perhaps eight years or more, and since I’ve been in Texas we have had several long lunches and conversations over beers, and Angela and I have enjoyed getting to know his family, Krista and Holt. I am glad he is here.

I received a call from Mike several days ago during which he told me, “Come over around 4 and we’ll fire up the grills and burn some meat.” Angela and I headed over to their house and upon arriving saw two Weber Kettle grills ready for some proteins. Mike had rubbed a brisket, and it and some ribs were on the smoke. Angela and I brought some jumbo shrimp, and I got busy marinading them, in preparation of wrapping them in bacon and giving them a nice sear. We added a giant sausage link to the mix, and two chickens, one of which we cooked in the beer-can method. Mike rubbed his bird with a mixture of oil and spices, and I put some garlic slivers under the skin of mine and stuffed its cavity with fresh rosemary and a lemon. We talked, drank some beer, kept up with the match between The Netherlands and Costa Rica, and ate some very good meat.

Brisket from Pitzen.

Brisket from Pitzen.

Birds on a grill.

Birds on a grill.

On the table.

On the table.

Thinking of France and Chickens

I lived in Paris for about seven months in 2005, and I miss that city, and France, especially when I am shopping for food. For most of my time there during that year I lived in the 10th, near the fine old Marché Saint-Quentin. It was built in 1866, and is a lovely covered market with lots of glass and iron. And it is full of great produce and fish and cheese and meat and poultry of all sorts.

A good place to shop: Le marché Saint-Quentin, in Paris' 10th.

A good place to shop: Le marché Saint-Quentin, in Paris’ 10th.

I shopped there three or four times a week, and most weeks bought a chicken, usually from the same woman, because hers seemed the freshest. Indeed, some of them had been killed the night before I cooked them. I bought them with the feet and heads still on, and appreciated their organic wholeness.

Most of the time I roasted them, which I am confident is the best way to cook a chicken, though fried chicken is a close second. Every now and then, though, I liked to poach a bird in cream, lots of cream. Two quarts, to be exact. Two quarts of fresh light cream, cream that tasted better than any milkshake I have ever had, and I imagined it coming from the most perfect dairy cow in France.

I’ve forgotten where I first saw a recipe for this dish, but it is an age-old technique, and many of you have undoubtedly poached chicken breasts before. One recipe I used recently as a foundation comes from Daniel Young’s “The Bistros, Brasseries, and Wine Bars of Paris.” I brined the bird when I made it this week, eight hours in a water/salt/sugar/black peppercorn solution.

Chicken brining in a plastic bag.

Chicken brining in a plastic bag.

Here’s how you do it:

Rinse the chicken inside and out with cool water and pat dry. Let stand at room temperature for 20 minutes, then season liberally inside and out with salt and pepper. While the chicken is waiting, heat two cups of chicken stock (you can use bouillon cubes) and heat the oven to 325 Fahrenheit. 

Carrots, onions, and celery, and a chicken

Carrots, onions, and celery, and a chicken

Peel two carrots and cut them in half; do the same to two onions and two turnips. To these, add the white part of one leek. I also like to use two stalks of celery, cut in half. (You can peel the celery if you want.) Put the chicken in a Dutch oven and then pour in the stock and the cream and add the vegetables to the mix. Heat on the stovetop over moderately high heat until just below boil. Put the lid on the mixture and put it in the oven for about two hours.

It's a bird surrounded by cream and vegetables – what's not to like?

It’s a bird surrounded by cream and vegetables – what’s not to like?

Remove the chicken and vegetables from the Dutch oven and keep warm; pour two to three cups of the cream mixture through a fine sieve into a saucepan and cook over medium heat, whisking the sauce until it thickens, for five minutes or so. 

Arrange the chicken and vegetable on a platter and pour as much of the sauce over them as you wish. I like to get a leg and breast on my plate, and the carrots and onions take on a flavor that will make you want to double the quantity of them next time you make this. (A final note: it is best to use a large chicken here, say, five pounds, but a bird of that size is difficult to find in many places, so if you use a smaller bird, just reduce the amount of cream.)

It really is very simple, and what results is chicken reminiscent of what you get when you make Chicken and Dumplings – moist and rich. And the sauce will have you thinking of milkshakes. I drank a Côtes de Duras blanc with the dish this week.

© 2024 Mise en Place

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑