chx

Actually, I prefer the Italian name: Pollo al Vin Cotto.

Mario Batali’s cookbook, Molto Italiano, has been the perfect resource for me while holed away in my little Florentine apartment. I am devouring all the Italian references and seasonal nuances, loving everything from the Italian subtitles to the descriptions of pasta and types of Italian flour (I use “00″ flour when I make focaccia).

I understand his affection for anchovies and capers, and instinctively nod when he refers to subtle—and not so subtle—differences between olive and grape growing regions across Italy. I see the seafood pile high in his recipes and notice how frequently he uses tomato sauce (remember one of my first posts on why I love talking about tomatoes?).

It has been constant Christmas-mornings-with-stockings-full for me, while reading his cookbook. What shall I make next? What do I want to focus on? Shall I go with familiar or unfamiliar? And all of a sudden I feel like his self-appointed apprentice, a student of culinary genre and mentality. Like Van Gogh copying masters works incessantly, trying on the styles of all his peers and predecessors. I am studying Mario. Learning about his technique, preferences, short-cuts, philosophy, habits and style. What makes him tick? What makes him successful? How does he relate to food? What is his story? Yes, I read HEAT. And yes, I live in Seattle and have stood in line at Mario’s fathers’s shop SALUMI on more than one occasion (with my kids in tow, even).

chxI have gone to culinary school (learning from qualified chefs), and studied the likes of Martha and Ina, read Jamie’s, Marcella’s and Giada’s books and own many more. I don’t agree with them all, or like all of their recipes; though some I adore and cannot get enough of. Regardless, I am learning tips, tricks, methodology and flavor profiles. And this latest study of Mario is a welcome companion.

I selected a number of Mario’s poultry dishes. Largely because I wanted to keep practicing my poultry carving skills, plus whole chickens are budget-savvy and cooked right can be restaurant-menu worthy. So it begins.

I chose this recipe (here it is on the food network) and my family raved. Best chicken we have had… that is what they told me.

Here is what I am telling you:

  • gather all of the ingredients, as if they are a group of friends having a conversation on your counter.
  • I cut up one 3 LB chicken, but added a few drumsticks and thighs—as needed—for extra mouths (cooking with skin on is key)
  • in my opinion, the olives/nuts/capers are helpful but not essential. If you are missing olives or almonds—’non c’ e fretta’—don’t worry about it (skip ‘em).
  • plan for time. I have made this more than once, and it is essential to let the entree develop. Allow for enough time for the wine to simmer, then later to let the vinegar/sugar simmer…
  • in the end Mario tells you to sprinkle the chicken with black pepper, parsley, red pepper flakes, parsley… sure, you can do that. I threw in the same said seasonings sometime in the last 10 minutes and called it ‘a day.’ Actually, I cheated. The shops here in Tuscany (souvenir, butchers and otherwise) sell a token mix of herbs that includes parsley, red pepper and the like.
  • by all means, serve with potatoes or risotto; this dish begs for a starch to soak up all the sauce.
  • my family declared this a ‘must’ for our default dinner list!

my fashion faux pas meal

November 16th, 2009

plate of white

As in: no white shoes before Easter, loose the leg warmers and satin is out.

This meal is all wrong. I learned in cooking school that it is important to consider the combination of foods on a given plate. In other words, what are the varying textures? Are the colors contrasting? Do you have a protein, vegetable and starch? Have you styled it and stacked it? Are you presenting it properly toward the guest? Sauce should not go over the protein, but in front. And so forth.

creme bruleeTrue, this is as unfashionable as any season would beckon: everything on the plate is all white. The protein is chicken, the vegetables are roasted cauliflower and fennel and the starch—sauteed potatoes. White, white, and more white. In fact, I could have had pasta with oil and salt or Parmesan risotto and still stayed in the same white theme. I even considered sauteing white mushrooms with a reduced white wine sauce to top the chicken… that would have worked with veal too. Please pass the focaccia.

Instead of unfashionable, perhaps we could coin this as deliberately edgy, like putting color on color: a tie and shirt of the same color. It is a bold, confident statement. Although, since the plate consists of entirely white food, the thought of trendy color is a bit of a stretch. At least the other components are there: a protein, a starch and vegetables.

I actually get a kick out of color and always have. I remember matching earrings to socks and shirts—even during the neon shirt phase (scary). You may not know this, but for almost a year, I had a blog called Brown Bag Blues; it includes a series of posts on colored lunches. The blog is a source of ideas for what to put in lunches, to stave off brown bag boredom (I didn’t have time for 3 blogs, but it is still posted, with a pile of lunch ideas if you want to peek; my 2nd blog is about this year I am spending in Florence, Italy, with my family—family frolics).

It is time for dinner… by the way, anyone want milk, white wine, some grated Parmesan? Panna cotta, vanilla ice cream or creme brulee for dessert?

You think this is bad, perhaps I should implement a Christmas dinner of red and green…

I can do it in 3 ingredients…

November 10th, 2009

chicken

I didn’t want to cook tonight. I had gone on an interview, cleaned the house, plugged away on the computer, hit the grocer, enjoyed the Florentine sunshine… and it was just ‘one of those nights.’

I am finding my rhythm includes one night a week where I like to pull a kitchen trump card. As in: tonight I want off. And here in Florence that usually means ‘lets get pizza.’ This is a great city—a great country—for ‘getting pizza.’ It goes without saying.

We have a favorite restaurant on our street in Florence: our go-to place for pizza night in (Francescovini). Though for the record, the restaurant has a nice ambiance—especially the deeper in you go—and is worth a sit down meal if you are so inclined. (What can I say? It is on our block, so the temptation to hunker down and play cards or watch soccer ‘in’ is compelling). We have tried the boar sauce (homey) and almost all of the pizzas. Our favorite pizzas are the pepperoni and the one with arugula and prosciutto. When it comes in our door, we top it with just-grated Parmesan cheese and pour the table wine (or sangria). It hits the spot every time.

The problem is, of course, that this particular night our pizzeria was closed. And with a fridge that was on the slimmer side of proteins, I needed a go-to meal that would feel like non-cooking. We were walking about, saw an open butcher and purchased a few chicken breasts. Three ingredients [and two quick sides] later, dinner was served.

I have made this dish multiple times in the last few weeks, usually after a long day of errands or touring. When what I really want is a glass of red wine, Anthony’s big slippers (he graciously lets me borrow his) and some down time (watching CSI or Friends with the boys, playing cards, reading a book, browsing Facebook… these all qualify). So I grab mayonnaise, Parmesan and the nearest container of Italian herbs. Mix, spread and bake. While the chicken is in the oven, I saute some potatoes and other vegetables and we have a meal. Thank goodness for the Italian ice cream novelties in our freezer: the perfect end to a family night in.

Chicken Parmayonnaise
serves 4.

1/3 cup mayo (by the way, if you are lucky, you have some homemade mayonnaise tucked away in the fridge)
1/3 cup Parmesan (grated)
2 tsp Italian Herbs (feel free to hit the herbs with a few grinds of kosher salt and coarse pepper)

4 breasts of chicken (as is or pounded slightly for uniform thickness. You are not going for thin chicken, just lean on the thickest parts a bit, so they cook evenly)

Oven to 375. Blend mayo, Parm and herbs. Place breasts in baking dish, spread top evening over chicken breasts. Pop into oven and cook approximately 25 minutes until top just starts to brown and chicken internal temp registers 165 F.

Related Posts with Thumbnails
Updates via email contact twitter



Talk of Tomatoes on Facebook



Foodie Blogroll