Basque Chicken

The only way I made it through this recipe without eating the dog was by drinking a bottle of wine. Sometimes getting drunk before dinner is the only way to forget how hungry and increasingly desperate you are. The wine was the high point of the meal really. It didn't take any effort. It didn't confuse me with odd directions. It didn't refuse to cook. Even on the best day I'd be glad to have several bottles of it in my house actually.

As a general rule I don't even like Chardonnay, there are a few I will make an exception for and this is my new favorite. The Optimus is a killer bottle for $11. It isn't a cloying oak monster. Nor is it a tropical fruit smoothie disguised as a wine. It is instead a balanced blend of slightly buttery pear and green apple with a honeyed finish. It's so easy to drink you won't know you've had half the bottle while staring at the inexplicably raw chicken that has been on the oven for an hour until you're at the grocery store later singing to the leeks. I have a feeling this is going to be my summer wine this year.

You may have guessed by now that the meal itself gave me some trouble and you would absolutely be right. I'm still holding a grudge against it a day later. It was that annoying but (Lindsay don't read this part) I loved it so much I already have plans to make it again next week. Next time I'm going to go 30 Minute Meals on it, making a much simpler version of this amazing but picky original version.

It started out fine. Boiling artichokes—I adore artichokes almost as much as curry so I knew this recipe was going on the menu right away. Blanching a tomato which was odd but once it was done I totally understand why the recipe called for it. Once all the vegetables were chopped I had time waiting for the artichokes to get tender and the chicken to brown, to relax. That should have been my first indication something was wrong. I've read The Julia and Julia Project, when a French recipe seems too easy you've probably mucked something up. The fates are up there somewhere laughing at you enjoying your wine knowing things about to hit the fan. Without the proper amount of stress and insanity it isn't properly French.

Following the recipe I put the chicken in the oven to bake for 12 minutes. Took it out, did some stuff to it and put it back in for another 10. It was crispy on the outside and the recipe said that was all there was it so it should be done, right? Wrong, wrong, wrong. The chicken halves we were using were still totally raw in the middle. I put them on stove for a while longer and drank some more wine, glaring occasionally at the chicken pan. During this time I ate my artichoke furiously. The thermometer I stuck in the chicken said it was done. So you would think it was done, right? Nope.

I literally threw my hands in the air and did what I always do when a recipe makes me want to throw dishes across the room, I passed it on to the fella. He made that chicken his bitch. He put it in the pan like he meant business and stood supervising it while drinking his wine and making his artichoke disappear. He took the chicken's temperature which read as well done. We re-plated it for the third time. Do you think it was done now? Sorry no.

This chicken wasn't giving up. I swore at the chicken, cursing its relatives and everything holy to it as I tore it's flesh from the carcass. The fella looked at me like the crazy person I was at that moment. I then explained to him I was cutting out the middleman and just putting the bloody (literally) chicken meat in the pan and cooking it sans bones. This worked much better, the meat cooked in a couple minutes and gave it a chance to combine nicely with the mushroom and wine sauce when I added it to the pan to reheat.

The fourth time we sunk our forks into the meat it was divine. The chicken was tender, the sauce was delightful and what remained of the vegetables I hadn't already snacked on were scrumptious. Maybe I'm a food masochist and waiting for the food makes it taste that much better after the build up of anticipation. Or maybe I was so drunk I probably could have eaten the dog at this point. Regardless I'll get back to you when I come up with a better version of this meal.

Until then anyone know where a girl can get a reliable meat thermometer around here?

Basque Chicken

2 large artichokes, trimmed
1 large ripe tomato
2 pounds bone in chicken or 2 baby chickens
3 tablespoons butter
3 ounces chanterelles (I used white button mushrooms)
1 garlic clove, germ removed, finely diced
2 tablespoons dry white wine
2 tablespoons chicken broth

Poach artichokes in salted water until tender, about 10 to 15 minutes or when the outer leaves are easily removed. Cut the heart out of the artichokes and set aside. Discard leaves or dip them in some butter as a snack while waiting for the chicken to cook.

Cut a conical plug from the stem of the tomato. Blanch tomato in the boiling artichoke water for 10 seconds. Remove from water and peel off skin. Cut tomato in half, squeeze out seeds and juice to discard. Coarsely chop the remaining pulp.

Preheat oven to 350.

If using whole chickens season the inside with salt and pepper then truss them with string so legs are up close to the breasts and the wings are firmly in place. Simply season under the skin of the chicken if using bone in pieces.

Melt 2 tablespoons of butter in an oven safe pot large enough to hold both chickens. Brown chicken on all sides, about 5 to 10 minutes on each side. Add more butter if necessary to keep meat from sticking. Cover pot and place in oven for 12 minutes.

Remove the pot from the oven. Spoon in the artichoke bottoms, sliced chanterelles, and tomato around the chicken. Return the pot to the oven for another 10 minutes or until the internal temperature is above 165. Remove from the oven again. Set aside chicken to keep warm while preparing sauce.

Put the pot full of mushroom, artichoke, and tomato on a burner over high heat. Add garlic, wine, and broth. Bring to a boil and cook until liquid is slightly reduced.

Serve the chicken with pan juices and vegetables spooned around them.

Original recipe from The Lutece Cookbook by Andre Soltner.

Some Food I Won't Ever Be Posting Recipes For

What is the shared obsession with gelatinious things in food from the 50's and France? This all looks quite scary. The more traditional recipes in the book are quite good but I make sure to never look for the pictures of them because the photographer found a way to make everything look frightening.


Casino Lobster. Did it just finish playing poker? I don't get it.


Fish in Outerspace. Apparently these are not fish of some sort and not creatures from another planet.

Edible Horse. This is an appetizer of some sort. I'm still looking for the appetizing part.


Chest Burster Chicken. I made the mistake of reading this recipe. That's a whole chicken then coated in candied aspic. The other things are hard boiled eggs with the same treatment then on a bed of aspic. It looks dangerous.

Roulette Ham. Who looks at a perfectly good piece of meat and thinks "hey let's put goo on it, that would be awesome."

All of this from Modern French Culinary Art which is a self contained gallery of regrettable food.

Lamb Korma

It's just like me to check out a new stack of complicated French cookbooks and immediately begin cooking the only Indian recipes in them. What can I say--even after two months of this diet I'm not any more enamored of French cooking than I was to begin with. It's more of a morbid fascination than anything. Curries, daal, and naan are still my favorite things to make. Yet the mysterious ingredients and elaborate process required to make terrine and aspic intrigue me. So until I'm done with Montignac, France and India will keep battling it out in my kitchen. It's been fun so far.

Korma is what happens when you slow braise meat marinated to tenderness in yogurt or cream, then slather it in a complex mixture of spices. It's killer. The marinade does all the hard work. All that's left to do is brown the meat and watch it cook. Couldn't be easier. Well there is is matter of tracking down 10 different spices from where ever it is you store them, but its well worth the hunt.

This was some of the most authentic Indian I've ever made. It's worlds better than the Rogan Josh I order time and again at the near by Indian place. Same basic idea but I got to control the spices and the fat content. Then I went and ruined the notion of any calories I saved by using yogurt instead of heavy cream in the lamb by making fried cauliflower as a side.

It's a ridiculous thing to make really. The fella asked “Doesn't deep frying something defeat the purpose of eating a vegetable at all?” I think I threw a towel at him. Logic has no place in the kitchen. This was all about satisfying an urge. Several times last week I read food bloggers talking about how fried cauliflower tastes exactly like popcorn. So I wanted to give it a try seeing as both the fella and I have been missing popcorn.

It tastes nothing like popcorn but it is good in small qualities and it went well with the lamb as a side to absorb all the delicious korma sauce. This particular dinner pleased me to no end. I already know this recipe will be in heavy rotation on my menu list.

What a thing to find in an ancient traditional French cookbook from the 50's full of scary pictures of what is supposed to be food but looks like alien creatures swallowing other smaller unrecognizable creatures. This is the stuff of nightmares. I will have to try to get pictures of these dishes as seen in the pages of this book, they really need to be seen to be believed. I am oh so glad I didn't notice them before cooking the korma or may have lost the curage to try making it.

Lamb Korma

2 pounds boneless leg of lamb
3/4 cup yogurt
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons cumin seeds
3 teaspoons turmeric
1 teaspoon ground cardamom

1/4 cup coconut oil or ghee
1 1/2 cups onion, chopped
1 clove garlic, diced

1 teaspoon powdered mustard
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 teaspoon cayenne (it could use more)
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves

1 cup water
1 teaspoon lemon juice
2 tablespoons grated coconut

Trim off and discard fat from lamb. Cut meat into bite sized pieces. Mix with the yogurt, salt, cumin, turmeric, and cardamom in a large bowl and let marinate for at least 2 hours.

Heat 1 tablespoon of oil or ghee over medium heat in a large skillet. Cook onions and garlic until browned and tender. Add another tablespoon of oil, enough to coat the bottom of the pan and add the remaining spices. Stir thoroughly, toasting the spice mixture for about 2 minutes. Remove onion and spice mixture from pan and reserve for later.

Place pan on medium high heat, add the remaining oil and begin to cook the lamb until browned on all sides. Pour off any excess fat.

Add the onion and spice mixture back to the pan, cover and let simmer on medium heat for about 20 minutes. Pour in the water, cover and allow to cook another 30 minutes or until the meat is tender. Add more water if needed.

Just before serving add lemon juice and coconut. Stir well and serve.

Original recipe from Modern French Culinary Art by Henri-Paul Pellaprat.

Flourless Naan

It has been one whirlwind of a weekend. A distributors tasting at the wine store I work in on Friday. Then a wine get together with some friends on Saturday. We call our group Wasted and we lived up to our name, drinking some nice Australian and New Zealand wines. Then selling wine on Sunday. For the moment I'm ready to take some time off from wine, I say, as I make plans to drag friends to yet another tasting this Friday.

With all of that I fell a bit behind in my cooking. I was missing some things to make one recipe. After thawing the meat for another meal the fella brought to my attention that it required being marinated over night. Crap. It was already 6 and we were a little punchy from spending the entire afternoon cleaning so there was no time or brain cells left to pull together a make shift meal. We got out the Indian take out menu instead.

Mixed grill, spinach chicken, and a black lentil daal, it was the comfort food we needed at the moment. While the fella was out picking up the food I threw together some flourless naan. It is not low fat and it it is not cheap. Almond flour will set you back about $10 a pound unless you have the patience and time to grind up your own. And between the nut flour and coconut oil, you are looking at a calorie monster. As a treat to fill the breadless void however it is perfect and oh so easy.

The trick is to whisk it up at the very last second, get the pan the right temperature and brown them to the right level on each side. My first couple naan came out well, the last one did not as my pan was too cold and the almond flour had sucked up all the liquid so the consistency was wrong. They really need to be fried up quick to get the right effect.

These are amazing. The coconut oil makes them taste a lot like the real thing and they are nice for sopping up all the delicious Indian sauces from your plate. And they smell dreamy, like a fresh baked bear claw. It sated my pastry lust for at least another week. Seriously I was at Lazy Jane's, the best bakery/coffee place in town, this morning having brunch with friends, and I didn't even give the world's greatest scones a second look. When I was a sugar addict I would have sold the dog for one of those fruity scones, flaky and topped with just the right amount of tart lemon glaze. Thanks to the power of almond flour I was able to just say no.

Flourless Naan

1 egg
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/3 cup coconut milk
(or 2 tablespoons soy/almond milk and 3 heaping tablespoons of plain yogurt)
1 1/2 teaspoon oil
1 cup almond meal/flour
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
coconut oil for frying (about 2 tablespoons)

In a small bowl, whisk together the egg, baking soda, coconut milk, and oil until frothy.

Melt about 1/2 tablespoon of coconut oil in a skillet over medium heat. Just before you are ready to fry the naan, mix the almond flour and salt into the wet mixture. Pour onto hot skillet in portions the size of a small pancake. Fry until bottom is browned, flip and fry other side until brown and crisped through.

Add another 1/2 tablespoon oil to pan and allow to come back to temperature before cooking the next bit of naan. The mixture will suck up all the oil and cake onto the pan otherwise. Repeat with the remaining naan mixture adding more oil each time as needed.

Original recipe from Oreganicthrifty blog.

Vegetable Biryani

I'm going to leave all you lovely people to think about this recipe for a while. Like say a week, just until I can refresh myself enough to not feel foodie burn out anymore.

This blog has done everything I was hoping for. It gave me the motivation to stick to the diet and writing here every day got me in the practice of writing again. The only problem is I now have a back log of creative writing sitting in my notebook begging for attention. So I'm using this week off from food blogging to edit some writing, I fear if I don't submit something for critiquing soon my writing group may kick me out. Which would be particularly embarrassing considering I'm the one who started the group.

I've been neglecting my fellow writers and my muse in the name of giving you all delicious recipes. And will go back to doing so as soon as I get the next great American short story typed up so my editing team can correct my grammar, punctuation and sentence structure and bring me back down to earth. I'll probably still post little wine reviews as I go long just so no one misses me too much. And when I come back I'll be armed with a new cache of impressive French meals.

But getting on to the recipe. This version of Biryani isn't much like the kind found in Indian restaurants which is high in fat and usually drowned in oil. They're both tasty but this is a low fat, high fiber more healthful recipe. The great thing is you can swap out the vegetables for other ones you like better, its best with a combination of root vegetables and crisp fresh vegetables that are in season. Add some well seasoned rice, create a blend of spices, toss it in the oven and you're set for a filling super flavorful meal. It's perfect for people who like Indian but don't like spicy.

The fella made Dal with it and we were quite happy. We also opened a bottle of Chateau St. Michelle Gewürztraminer which was very basic and easy drinking. It wasn't anything spectacular but it was sweet and spicy so it fit with the Biryani nicely.

Vegetable Biryani

1 cup brown rice
2 whole cloves
2 cardamom pods, seeds only
2 cups vegetable stock

2 garlic cloves
1 small onion, coarsely chopped
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1/2 teaspoon ground turmeric
1/2 teaspoon chili powder
2 tablespoons water

2 small zucchini, cut into 1 inch cubes
1/ 2 cauliflower, broken into florets
1 small head broccoli, broken into florets
5 ounces green beans, cut in 1 inch lengths
6 tablespoons water
2 tablespoons chopped cilantro
2 tablespoons lime juice

Put rice, cloves, and cardamom seeds into a large saucepan. Pour in the stock and bring to a boil. Reduce heat, cover and simmer for about 20 minutes or until stock is absorbed but rice is still crisp. Do not fully cook the rice at this point.

Preheat the oven to 350. Put garlic, onion, all the spices, and water into a food processor to blend into a smooth paste. Add salt and pepper to taste then spoon the spice mixture into a large flameproof casserole dish and cook over low heat about 2 minutes.

Add the vegetables and 6 tablespoons of water to the casserole dish, cover and cook for about 12 minutes. Stir occasionally, adding cilantro towards the end of the cooking time.

Remove the cloves from the rice and spread rice over vegetable mixture, sprinkle with the lime juice. Cover and cook in oven for 20 to 25 minutes, or until vegetables are tender. Fluff up rice and combine before serving, topped with more cilantro.

Original recipe from The Ultimate Healthy Eating Cookbook by Anne Sheasby.