Showing posts with label cooking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cooking. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Chicken potfantastic

“If an egg isn’t cooked the way you want it, it’s the most disappointing thing. The only thing I know as disappointing is a bath that’s not hot enough.”

That’s straight from the gob of Nigella Lawson, famous Brit cook and jean-jacket wearer, and I completely agree. I’ve experienced both of these disappointments in the last week, but she was there to understand and pick me back up. I sought comfort and Nigella delivered with her Chicken Mushroom and Bacon Pie.

Her recipe is lovely, however I made a few adjustments, adapting to what I had on hand. No Marsala, for one. Love of carrots, for another. What I enjoyed most about this recipe was the ease of making it. Nigella really is serious about there being “no fuss” in her food. Besides two ramekins, the cooking is all done in one pot. It’s also a terrific two-person meal—I get tired of so many delicious dishes meant for four, six, and eight.

I think that what made this potpie extra terrific was the quality of ingredients. All the veggies came from the farmers’ market. I’m okay with sounding snobby because when you peel a real carrot, the whole kitchen smells sweet, fresh, and slightly spicy. It’s hard to go back to the dry, woody stalks of the grocery store. I bought the puff pastry at Trader Joe’s because I found the simplicity of the ingredient list calming. It’s reassuring to see flour, butter, and salt as the top three components. We got the bacon and chicken from CityProvisions, a delicatessen that specializes in local farms and fresh food. The bacon (which was house-cured) was intoxicatingly smoky and the Gunthrop Farms chicken (which, like all of CityProvision’s meat, was labeled with its farm of origin) tasted, to borrow a term from Julia Child, more chickeny than that of the grocery store.

Your spoon crackles through the flaky top crust, revealing a gooey underside and provoking a deeply smoky steam. It dips into the thick filling and arises coated with a rich gravy, carrying chicken and veggies, all of which are tender and flavorful. It’s the kind of meal you eat through foggy glasses, burning your tongue on most bites, not caring to slow down.

I lit my jack-o-lantern for ambiance and enjoyed Nigella’s chicken potpie as a perfect Sunday supper in late October.


Chicken Potpie for two

3 strips of bacon, cut into pieces

1 clove of garlic, diced

2 cups cremini mushrooms, quartered

½ carrot, diced

1 chicken breast, cut into bite-size pieces

2 1/2 tablespoons all-purpose flour

2 sprigs of fresh thyme, leaves separated from stems

1 tablespoon butter

1 1/4 cups hot chicken stock

½ tablespoon Worcestershire sauce

½ tablespoon of balsamic vinegar

1 (13-ounce) 9 by 16-inch sheet all-butter ready-rolled puff pastry (defrosted)


Start by preheating the oven to 425 degrees F. Fry up the bacon pieces in a large saucepan until beginning to crisp, then add the mushrooms, carrots, and garlic.

As veggies soften, toss the chicken with flour and thyme, then melt the butter in the pan. Add the coated chicken and the remaining flour that did not stick to the chicken. When the chicken has begun to brown and the flour has cooked into the butter, add the stock, Worcestershire, and balsamic. Stir to incorporate, allowing the flour to thicken the sauce. Nigella then directs you to “let this bubble away for about 5 minutes.”

Cut a thin strip of pastry to make a rim on each of your ramekins. That is, lay the strip over the edge of the ramekin and fold it down over the sides. I did mine in three sections, overlapping the strips. Next, cut a lid-sized circle to drape over the top of the pie.

Fill the pastry-rimmed ramekins with the thickened chicken and vegetable mixture and top with the pastry lid. Use a fork to seal the edges.

Cook in oven for 20 minutes, until they “puff up magnificently.”

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Souper sweet Saturday

I put two cookbooks through the rigors of the Miller test kitchen: the recently released Soups and Sides by Catherine Walthers and seemingly author-less oldie but goodie Cookies! A Cookie Lover's Collection.

Both cookbooks have a hearty variety of recipes all thoughtfully organized in useful groupings. I scanned them all and found myself needing more scraps of paper to indicate must-try recipes because almost all are tempting. Perhaps a first, but I didn't notice any recipes in either cookbook that made me want to turn the page because I had no idea who would want to make—or eat!—the shown foods.



Soups and Sides ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
I made "Cauliflower Soup with Great Hill Blue Cheese" with "Parsley Sauce" (modified per Walthers' "optional" suggestion, swapping out blue cheese for sharp cheddar—creamy and yummy!, p. 64); "Potato-Leek Soup" (perfect exactly as she advises you make it—tasty and straight-forward!, p. 69); "Mexican Quinoa Salad with Black Beans, Corn, and Edamame" (my only change was to not add my food nemesis cilantro—delish and quick!, p. 88); and, "Lime Spice Cookies" (an easy-to-make, simple shortbread-esque tea cookie with an unexpected but delightful hint of lime—special and a new fave!, p. 198). The time listed for each step to make in each of these recipes was accurately described and not exorbitant. Any of these dishes would be do-able, even in a pinch after a long day at work. The servings were also on the money. I only wish she had provided ballpark nutritional information. Most of the recipes, save for the butter-tastic cookies, seem healthy enough.




Cookies! A Cookie Lover's Collection ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆
I made "Choco-Cherry Macaroons" (these were so simple to make and they smelled like heaven because of the recommended addition of almond extract, p. 67) and "Crunchy Butterscotch Chip Cookies" (bizarre in texture but über-addictive in the taste department—definitely a keeper!, p. 105). I need to invest in a new oven thermometer because the cooking time for each was more than listed, but that was the only snag I encountered. The nice thing about all of the cookie recipes in this book is that they don't require too many odd-ball, not-in-your-pantry ingredients. Plus, every single darn cookie has a big and beautiful picture so you know exactly what you'll wind up with when you're done. Hurrah for retro cookbooks with gratuitous photography budgets!




I recommend both of these cookbooks without reservations. Queue up Soups and Sides for your cookbook wish list and troll your library for their old copy of Cookies!. Neither will disappoint you—or, the people you make eat the treats you cook using recipes from them.