Showing posts with label poultry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poultry. Show all posts

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Turkey Noodle Casserole

It's Thanksgiving week, the great week of culinary traditions and improvisations. My friend Heather came over with eight fully cooked boneless turkey breasts, and so we're doing turkey leftovers early.

Simple Turkey Leftovers

Rip off a hunk of turkey meat.

Squeeze on some mayo -- preferably Duke's or Hellman's/Best Foods.

Eat.

Repeat.

That got us through a few days.

Tonight, however, I put together a turkey noodle casserole. Now, I'm no stranger to tuna noodle casserole (though I rarely bother to put it in the oven after mixing), but this is my first ever turkey one. Why? Because I usually am through with my turkey leftovers after sandwiches and simple turkey leftovers like above. With 20 or so pounds of meat to get through, I've plenty.

Turkey Noodle Casserole

Roasted turkey meat, roughly diced --at least two cups and up to five
"Cream of" -- one can (I used cream of celery)
sour cream -- 8 oz.
peas and carrots -- one can, drained, or 1-2 cups frozen
Egg noodles, cooked and drained -- one box or bag (I used spätzle)
black pepper -- to taste
your favorite casserole topping -- to cover (I used seasoned bread crumbs drizzled with olive oil; feel free to use corn flakes or what have you)

Preheat your oven to 350°F. In your favorite 9" x 13" pan, mix together the first five ingredients, thoroughly. Taste. Add pepper to your liking. Odds that you'll need to add salt are slim, what with the canned goods in play here. If it needs salt, though, have at it. Smooth the casserole down so it's level all over, and cover in your topping.

Pop into the oven, and leave it there until your topping is crisped, or until your house smells amazing, or until you can't wait any longer. This takes about 20-45 minutes.

Serve hot, serve cold, serve however. Tastes good with pinot noir.
And that's dinner. Well, and lunch for the next few days, too.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Coq Au Vin: My Deep Dark Secret

It's time to 'fess up. I love cookbooks, but I rarely ever prepare a recipe as written. It is much, much, much more common for me to consult a few books and then some website, and cobble together what I like from all of them to make something more me.

Tonight, for instance, I stopped at a couple stores on the way home, and bought fixings for coq au vin, or, really, A Slightly Less Pretentious Dish of Red Wine Braised Chicken. And here's how I did it:

Coq au Vin, or a Slightly Less Pretentious Dish of Red Wine Braised Chicken

Preheat your oven to 350°F

8 chicken thighs, with skin, bone in
1 cup flour
hearty pinch salt
hearty grinding pepper

Put flour, salt, and pepper in a brown paper bag. Close up, and shake to combine. Open bag, and put in two chicken thighs. Close the bag, and give a few hearty shakes. Open bag, and take out each thigh, placing them on a cooling rack for the time being. Repeat until all thighs are coated and placed on the rack. Throw out the bag.

Why the rack? Because we want the moisture from the chicken to start forming a shell with the flour, so we want as little contact with surfaces as possible.

2 containers of white mushrooms, sliced
big pat of butter
big pinch of salt

In a separate skillet or pot altogether, melt your big pat of butter over medium-high heat, and then dump in your mushrooms. Add salt. Stir occasionally as you do the rest of your work.

1/2 package bacon, cut into chunks

In a big flat-bottomed pot or a deep skillet, over medium-low heat, render out the bacon fat. If your pot is running hot and you're risking crisping/burning rather than rendering, add a shot glass full of water.

Cook until you've a good amount of fat rendered out, then use tongs and remove the bacon to a bowl for now. Leave the fat in the pan.

Lay 2-3 chicken thighs skin-side down in the bacon-y pot. Let sit for a few minutes, until the crust starts forming, and you see a bit of golden brown. Turn over, and let sit until the other side is crusty/golden. Remove to a heavy 9x13 pan. Repeat with the rest of the chicken thighs, in small batches. If you pot dries out, add a few glugs of olive oil between batches.

4 carrots, chopped
1 onion, chopped
5 cloves garlic, minced

Dump your non-fungus veg into the bacon-y/chicken-y pot, and stir frequently until the onions and garlic are softened. If you have the patience, keep going until the carrots are soft. If not....so be it.

By now, the mushrooms should have cooked down. They're now much more brown than they were, and almost all of the liquid they threw off has evaporated.

If it hasn't evaporated, turn up the heat, and keep the non-fungus veg going until the mushrooms are ready.

When the mushrooms are all ready, take 'em off the heat, and spread them over/between the chicken in the 9x13 pan. Scoop up non-fungus veg and spread over/between the chicken & mushrooms. Sprinkle/spread the bacon on top of the whole mess.

1 750-ml bottle of relatively inexpensive pinot noir, ideally from France or Oregon (it should be something that you would actually deign to drink; plonk has no place here, but "I could use it in Sangria" does)
2 bay leaves
2 sprigs rosemary AND 3 sprigs thyme OR a big ol' pinch of dried herbs de Provence

Check your bacon-y/chicken-y/non-fungus-veg-y pot: is there any fat left in the pan? If so, pour it off (not down the sink...into an empty can) or blot it up with paper towels. Dump in your wine, turn up the heat to high, and start whisking to get all the crusty bits up off the pan bottom. This? Is flavor. It's also "deglazing." It is the key to goodness. Honest. Add in the herbs, and whisk frequently as the whole things bubbles strongly. Keep it going for 3-5 minutes -- it'll reduce somewhat.

Take off the heat, and pour over the chicken/mushroom/veg/bacon concoction. Cover the pan tightly with aluminum foil, and pop in the oven for an hour and a half.

1 package noodles -- egg noodles, spätzle, fettuccine, or whatever you have in the cupboard
large amounts of water
heaping pinch of salt
big knob of butter
store bunch of fresh parsley, leafy bits chopped up, stems discarded

Bring water to a boil in a big ol' pot. Toss in the salt, then the noodles. Stir, and cook for the length of time specified on the package. Drain. Put into a big ol' bowl, and toss with the knob of butter and 3/4 of the parsley.

Eat a bowl full of noodles, because by now you're really hungry, and the house smells amazing, and you're salivating, and you need sustenance.

When the chicken's been in the oven for an hour and a half, pull it out, open it up, and sprinkle the rest of the parsley over the whole thing.

Serve the chicken and veg along side the noodles, and spoon some of the delicious sauce over the whole thing. Make sure you're not eating the bay leaves or the sprigs of herbs. Throw those bad boys away.

Like all things stewed and braised, this'll just get better as it sits in the fridge. Make sure you have some leftovers for the next day or two, because you'll be the happiest person in the world.

And that, m'dears, is how I cook.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Romaine Burritos with Blue Cheese, Chicken, Apples, and Pecans: On Not Being Pithy

A Little SomethingOne of the quirky joys of reading old cookbooks is delighting in the crazy recipe titles. Remember Watergate Cake? Or Hell Balls? And who could forget Home-for-Lunch Quickie? The author and editors of A Little Something seem to lack some imagination when it comes to recipe titles. They're all so very straightforward and prescriptive. Yesterday's Garlic & Cheese Twists were twists with garlic and cheese. Baked Clam Dip Loaf was a clam dip, baked, in a loaf of bread. Today's recipe is similarly direct.
Romaine Burritos with Blue Cheese, Chicken, Apples, and Pecans

Romaine, radicchio, butter, or iceberg lettuce are great low-calorie "wrappers." Make a platter for your next get-together or whip one up for a snack or light lunch.

Makes 8

4 ounces cooked chicken, diced
2 ounces blue cheese, crumbled
1 apple, peeled, cored, and diced
1/4 cup chopped pecans
2 tablespoons prepared Dijon mustard salad dressing or vinaigrette
8 romaine lettuce leaves, hard stem removed

  1. Combine the chicken, blue cheese, apple, and pecans in a small bowl, and toss with the dressing.
  2. Place the romaine on a flat work surface. Place a tablespoon of filling about 1/4 inch from the wide end of each leaf. Roll up burrito style, completely enclosing the filling.
Some other nice stuffings:
  • Tomato Salsa (page 28) mixed with diced chicken
  • Goat cheese Log with Sun-dried Tomatoes and Basil (page 42)
  • Dilled Shrimp Salad (page 94)
  • Chopped Eggs, Mushrooms, and Onions (page 61)
See what I mean? A direct recipe title.

It's... well, it's boring, frankly. Why not "Chicken Salad Lettuce Rolls"? Or "Bertha's Butter Lettuce Burritos"? Something with more character. Something pithy, or something that hints at a story untold. I'm willing to hear suggestions.

I don't know why the author felt a need to put "wrappers" in quotation marks. The lettuce is used as a wrapper. It's not a fake wrapper. It's not something something normally used as a wrap that is only containing items in some vague, molecular cuisine manner. The lettuce wraps the salad. If they'd wanted to put burrito in quotation marks, I'd understand. As is, it smacks of bad "sign" writing, where "people" put quotation "marks" around random "words" because "they" don't understand "language."

End rant. (For now.)

I suggest you use butter lettuce instead of romaine -- it is more pliable, and rolls easier. Also, the mild taste is lovely with chicken lettuce rolls. Also, there's no reason whatsoever to peel your apples. Wash 'em, sure, but leave the peel on, unless you're petrified of potential pesticide residue. Nuts are optional -- be aware of allergies of your guests.

And, really, you can make your own salad dressing. If you don't know how, leave a comment, and I'll post easy directions.

Monday, October 6, 2008

When Is A Sundae Not A Sundae?: Chinese Sundae

Sometimes, if an item resembles another item in any way, it will take the name of what it resembles. Take, for example, the Appletini -- an Apple Martini that is apple-y, and alcoholic, and served in a cocktail glass, but is in no way a combination of gin and vermouth. Or, take this recipe, from the Milwaukee Ward Relief Society Cookbook:
Chinese Sundae
Carol Meyer

Make sundae in following order:

1. Rice
2. Chow mein noodles
3. Chopped chicken
4. Chicken gravy
5. Chopped tomatoes
6. Chopped celery
7. Grated cheese
8. Chopped green onions
9. Pineapple chunks
10. Coconut
11. Chopped almonds
12. Maraschino cherries

So... this could go in a sundae glass. Sure. And it's different food substances, layered together. It has pineapple. Coconut. Nuts. It's topped with a cherry.

Other than that, it sounds like a hot nightmare. I was going along with it until item 4. Chicken gravy? Oh, no... And cheese? In a "Chinese" dish? I'm skeptical.

I wonder... if we took out the gravy, and layered the chow mein noodles a little higher up, how this would work out. Ditch the cheese. And the cherry. Use a little soy for moisture, if needed, or, heck, some plum sauce or duck sauce. There's got to be potential for layering stuff like a sundae for dinner.

The 1980 publication date hides the fact that these recipes are very, very, very 1970s.

Friday, October 3, 2008

A Chicken In Every Pot: How To Roast A Chicken

One of the first things my parents taught me to do in the kitchen was roast a chicken. One of the first things I learned that everyone did a little differently from her neighbor is roast a chicken. It was a revelation, figuring out that not everyone took a little metal-handled brush and brushed vegetable oil over the skin, sprinkled it all over with seasoned salt, and roasted the bird in a 9x13 pan in a 350° oven. And now I find my sister doesn't even do it that way (she uses Pam instead of veggie oil). It seems entirely appropriate, then, that Depression Era Recipes has two roast chicken recipes back to back.
How to Roast a Chicken

Remove any bits from inside dressed bird. Singe and remove pinfeathers. Wash under faucet. Dry inside and out. Stuff with a light hand with dressing of your choice. Turn wings across back, sew through wings and body with poultry needle and fine twine. Tie firmly, leaving long ends. Press thighs close to body and sew through; wrap twine around lower part of body and tie. Sew through ends of legs and tie close together. Sew once or twice through body opening if ragged. Rub with soft butter. season well with salt and pepper. Mix about 1/2 c. butter and 1/2 c. water in a pan and keep hot for basting. Put bird on a rack in a roasting pan. Sear in a hot oven till browned, then reduce heat to moderate and bake until done, basting often. Make gravy from pan drippings.
Golly, that sounds far too involved for a simple roast chicken. It's like a sewing lesson before dinner. I think this is a good time to say that I'm glad that I live in a time when I don't need to singe and remove pinfeathers off my chicken before I can prepare it. Let's see if the next one is any less... fussy.
How to Roast a Chicken Easier

Wash bird and cut into quarters, or leave whole. Put it in a roasting pan or skillet. Add 1/2 c. water. Bake at 325 degrees for 1 1/2 hours. Plain and simple and it turns out pretty good, too.
Well, that's certainly easier. It says so right in the title! But there's no seasoning going on, I think the addition of butter or oil, salt, and pepper at a minimum will make this less ... like a college student trying to impress someone by cooking a chicken without bothering to take out the giblets or the like.

My standard roast chicken these days goes along these lines: Smash several cloves of garlic and zest a lemon. Smear together with half a stick of butter, and then massage the garlic lemon butter under the skin of your bird. Cut the zested lemons in half and shove them in the de-giblet-ed cavity, along with the rest of the head of garlic. Put in a 9x13 pan (untrussed!), in a 375°F oven, and cook until internal temperature is 160°F.

Saturday, September 20, 2008

Favourite Kentish Recipes; Appledore Chicken Pie

I've loved cookbooks since I was a wee thing, but I didn't start collecting them until I went to the U.K. with my mother, aunt, and sister for an extended holiday. I fell in love with a series of small cookbook booklets by J. Salmon Ltd. press, each representing a different region of Great Britain (no Northern Ireland, alas). This week, we'll look at the first one of these booklets, Favourite Kentish Recipes. Don't know where Kent is? It's in the bottom right-hand corner of England. The booklet was compiled by Pat Smith, with illustrations (very pretty ones, at that) by A. R. Quinton. There's no copyright date inside, but I bought the booklets in 1998, so I'll assume a 1990s copyright (for tagging purposes).
Appledore Chicken Pie

1 chicken, or joints, to give 1 1/2 lbs. of raw chicken meat
2 hard boiled eggs, sliced
2 or 3 rashers of bacon, de-rinded and chopped
1 tablespoon fresh herbs, finely chopped or 1 teaspoon dried herbs
Salt and pepper
1 1/2 oz. flour
8 oz. shortcrust pastry

Set oven to 375°F or Mark 5. Remove the chicken meat from the bones. Place the bones in a pan, cover with water, put on a lid and simmer for 2-3 hours to produce some stock. Roll the meat in seasoned flour and put a layer in a pie dish. Cover with the chopped bacon and egg slices. Finish with the remaining chicken. Sprinkle the herbs over the meat. Cover with a pastry lid, making a hole in the centre and bake for 1 hour. Reduce the temperature to 350°F or Mark 4 and cook for a further 1 hour. If the pastry appears to be browning too rapidly, protect with a piece of greaseproof paper. Remove from the oven and, through the hole in the pastry, top up with some of the hot stock from the bones. Serves 4.
If you're newer to cooking, you might not catch that the salt and pepper were supposed to go into the flour, seasoning it. You also might not be used to the term "shortcrust pastry." It's a basic pastry/pie dough, that's basically 1 part fat to 2 parts flour, with a little water. Because we live in the golden age of the internet, there is, of course, a website to help you out: ShortCrustPastry.com. No joke. If you're not up for making your own crust (or using a Pillsbury refrigerated pie crust, which even Chefly Husband will use in a pinch -- it tastes just fine), you can also use puff pastry for your pie lid. Mmm. Puff pastry.

I like these booklets in part because they translate themselves, early and often. Yes, gas mark whatever is listed, but also degrees Fahrenheit. Units of measurement tend to be given in "standard" as opposed to metric, but there's a ton of charts in the back to help you adjust to what you're used to.

For the bacon, you could use standard supermarket bacon... I'd recommend getting some thicker, dryer slices from the butcher, though. Or, if resources permit, get some proper Irish or English bacon rashers. ...just thinking of good English bacon makes me hunger for a hot English breakfast. How long until I go to Northern Ireland? Only 9 more months...

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Bridget Jones Homage: Turkey-Olive Curry

We had an internet outage last night, so there will be two, two, two posts today from Good Housekeeping's Quick 'n' Easy Cook Book! First up, an homage to Bridget Jones's mother:
Turkey-Olive Curry

2 tablesp. butter or margarine
1/2 cup sliced onions
1 cup diced celery
2 1/2 tablesp. flour
1/2 teasp. salt
1/4 teasp. curry powder
1 chicken-bouillon cube
1 1/2 cups milk
1 cup pitted ripe olives
1 cup diced, cooked turkey or chicken
1 3-oz. can chow-mein noodles

In hot butter in skillet, sauté onions and celery until tender. Remove a few onion ring; set aside for garnish. To skillet, add flour, salt, curry powder, and crumbled bouillon cube; cook until bubbling. Slowly stir in milk; cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until thickened. Add three fourth of olives, all of turkey; heat. Top with onion rings, rest of olives. Serve over noodles.

Makes 4 servings
Mmm.... No, really, this sounds highly suspicious to me. Black olives, celery, milk, and chow mein noodles? ... all things I loved in my childhood, but, together?

It does sound authentically 1950s, though. In a "what were they thinking" sort of way.