Part Three: Something In The Air
So the Red Bird was wonderful--full of flavor, and all that--but I was still thinking of tea-poaching when I walked into Whole Foods and their air-chilled bone-in chicken breasts were on sale. I had seen the air-chilled chicken around but had yet to buy it, thinking it was just overpriced chicken.
Wrong.
(Ginger) Tea-Poached Chicken:
1 bone-in chicken breast, skin and fat removed
4-5 slices fresh ginger, peeled
1 cup water
1 teaspoon sesame oil
Place ginger and water in saucepan, heat to boiling, cover and simmer 10-15 minutes. Strain tea and combine 1/4 cup of tea and 1 teaspoon sesame oil in skillet, bring to boil. Rinse chicken, add to pan and cover. Reduce flame to low setting and simmer for fifteen minutes (ten if you're using air-chilled chicken), then turn off burner and let chicken sit in the pan for another ten to fifteen minutes or until done. Remove chicken to heated plate, strain poaching liquid and spoon over chicken.
This was great with jasmine rice and green beans.
As to the air-chilled chicken: Word. I'm going to use that for the Sopa di Lima next time (see "Cluck, Cluck") and not reduce the chicken stock, since the chicken is--you should excuse the expression--so chicken-y. Why? Must be something in the air. I'm not asking.
But don't worry, Mollie Stone's: I still love your chicken.
©2010, 2014 Laynie Tzena.
Showing posts with label chicken. Show all posts
Showing posts with label chicken. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Take a Bow, Part Two
Part Two: Now That Is A Red Bird.
It was getting a little crowded in my freezer, and so a chicken breast migrated to the fridge. The next day I was all ready to poach it when I remembered I was out of chicken stock. Or, rather, I read the writing on the wall (er, the container) and thought that since said chicken stock had poached a bird or two, been strained and frozen, poached some more birds, then gone back to the igloo, chances were, it had sung its last song.
My virtual friends assured me there were other options. Nothing really grabbed me, but then I remembered how much I liked tea-smoked scallops (don't tell my rabbi), and I decided to poach it in tea.
Then I opened the wrapper. Skin? Oh, this was the breast from the whole chicken I had bought way back when.
Yes, I know chicken skin is not nutritionally correct, but I happen to love it. So this bird was going to be baked, not poached.
I often use paprika in my scrambled eggs, among other things. But I don't use that much of it, and last time I opened the jar it had seemed a little pale. I had read somewhere that heating spices releases more of their flavor.
Red Bird, or Paprika Chicken:
1 bone-in chicken breast
1 lemon, quartered
2 tablespoons (or more) sweet paprika
Pinch kosher salt
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Rinse and dry chicken. Squeeze lemon on top and bottom of chicken, and under the skin, then rub the lemon into the skin, top, and bottom of the chicken. Heat a skillet on medium heat, add paprika, and warm till just starting to smoke. Cool paprika till safe to handle, then rub into skin, top, and bottom of chicken. Use a lot. (The bird will be red.) Sprinkle chicken with kosher salt, cover with foil, and bake in a glass dish for about 20 minutes, then remove foil and cook about another ten minutes. (Leave foil on if you used a skinless breast.) Test with fork; when the juices run clear, it's done.
Next Time: Gilligan Sent Me.
©2010, 2014 Laynie Tzena.
It was getting a little crowded in my freezer, and so a chicken breast migrated to the fridge. The next day I was all ready to poach it when I remembered I was out of chicken stock. Or, rather, I read the writing on the wall (er, the container) and thought that since said chicken stock had poached a bird or two, been strained and frozen, poached some more birds, then gone back to the igloo, chances were, it had sung its last song.
My virtual friends assured me there were other options. Nothing really grabbed me, but then I remembered how much I liked tea-smoked scallops (don't tell my rabbi), and I decided to poach it in tea.
Then I opened the wrapper. Skin? Oh, this was the breast from the whole chicken I had bought way back when.
Yes, I know chicken skin is not nutritionally correct, but I happen to love it. So this bird was going to be baked, not poached.
I often use paprika in my scrambled eggs, among other things. But I don't use that much of it, and last time I opened the jar it had seemed a little pale. I had read somewhere that heating spices releases more of their flavor.
Red Bird, or Paprika Chicken:
1 bone-in chicken breast
1 lemon, quartered
2 tablespoons (or more) sweet paprika
Pinch kosher salt
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Rinse and dry chicken. Squeeze lemon on top and bottom of chicken, and under the skin, then rub the lemon into the skin, top, and bottom of the chicken. Heat a skillet on medium heat, add paprika, and warm till just starting to smoke. Cool paprika till safe to handle, then rub into skin, top, and bottom of chicken. Use a lot. (The bird will be red.) Sprinkle chicken with kosher salt, cover with foil, and bake in a glass dish for about 20 minutes, then remove foil and cook about another ten minutes. (Leave foil on if you used a skinless breast.) Test with fork; when the juices run clear, it's done.
Next Time: Gilligan Sent Me.
©2010, 2014 Laynie Tzena.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
What a Little Minneola Can Do, Part Three
Part Three: Bringing It All Back Home, or
There's Got to Be A Recipe Here Somewhere
Thought for the day: Why not approach preparing food as you would getting dressed? Choose the combination you like best this time around.
Remember that orange you were about to toss? (See “Hello, Gorgeous!") Say you've also got some spinach and leftover roast chicken on hand.
Here's what I'd do:
Ze oil: A teaspoon canola or safflower oil, a teaspoon sesame oil (sesame oil has a strong flavor, so the canola or safflower mellows it out a bit).
Ze acid: A teaspoon of Minneola juice.
Ze supporting actors: A smidgen of stoneground mustard, a pinch of salt, a pinch of freshly-ground mixed peppercorns, a bit of minced onion (shallot, scallion, purple onion--just make it very little pieces so it doesn't dominate your salad). And a splash of sherry vinegar. Whisk together.
Slice the orange and add to the bowl with the dressing. Toss, and refrigerate.
Warm the chicken a bit. Leave the skin on and decide to eat one less cookie tonight.
Now carve slices of the roast chicken, or just cut it into chunks. Rinse and dry the spinach. Take the marinated orange out of the refrigerator and let it sit for a minute so it's not ice cold. Add the chicken and spinach and toss. (Idea for next time: Toss it with asparagus and pasta or basmati rice and fresh peas, instead of making a salad.) Arrange on a nice plate, especially if you're eating solo. What is this leaning over the sink? Please sit down. Put on some music.
There's Got to Be A Recipe Here Somewhere
Thought for the day: Why not approach preparing food as you would getting dressed? Choose the combination you like best this time around.
Remember that orange you were about to toss? (See “Hello, Gorgeous!") Say you've also got some spinach and leftover roast chicken on hand.
Here's what I'd do:
Ze oil: A teaspoon canola or safflower oil, a teaspoon sesame oil (sesame oil has a strong flavor, so the canola or safflower mellows it out a bit).
Ze acid: A teaspoon of Minneola juice.
Ze supporting actors: A smidgen of stoneground mustard, a pinch of salt, a pinch of freshly-ground mixed peppercorns, a bit of minced onion (shallot, scallion, purple onion--just make it very little pieces so it doesn't dominate your salad). And a splash of sherry vinegar. Whisk together.
Slice the orange and add to the bowl with the dressing. Toss, and refrigerate.
Warm the chicken a bit. Leave the skin on and decide to eat one less cookie tonight.
Now carve slices of the roast chicken, or just cut it into chunks. Rinse and dry the spinach. Take the marinated orange out of the refrigerator and let it sit for a minute so it's not ice cold. Add the chicken and spinach and toss. (Idea for next time: Toss it with asparagus and pasta or basmati rice and fresh peas, instead of making a salad.) Arrange on a nice plate, especially if you're eating solo. What is this leaning over the sink? Please sit down. Put on some music.
©2010, 2014, 2015 Laynie Tzena.
All Rights Reserved.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Try the House Salad
Well, it certainly has been a while. Let me be the first one today to wish you a Happy New Year. And do remind me to tell you about the Fancy Food Show. (For starters: I am still madly in love with Santander chocolate. And Charles Chocolates' almonds. I could eat them for days. And I have a new love, Harry London, including their flavored chocolate. I am usually eager to avoid flavored chocolate, but I brake for their raspberry dark chocolate. Plus, while I've loved Valrhona for years, I just discovered a little item of theirs called Guanaja [which is apparently how you say "heaven" in el idioma de la comida]).
In the meantime, the tatsoi at Heirloom Organics was irresistible yesterday at the market, and after talking with Mary about something she had tasted with a green that sounds like kamasutra and was served with gomasio and bonito flakes and something else I can't remember, I suddenly saw a salad in my head with sesame oil, tatsoi, and tangerines.
Of course the sesame oil has vanished and even though I love tangerines deeply, the navel oranges are simply amazing right about now and so the original plan went sailing out the window and we have something even better.
Tatsoi Salad with Oranges and Sherry-Walnut Vinaigrette:
For the salad:
Healthy handful of tatsoi (about the size of a head of romaine or butter lettuce)
1/2 orange
1/4 Shallot, 1 scallion, or equivalent amount of red onion (optional)
For the dressing:
2-3 teaspoons walnut oil
1 teaspoon sherry vinegar
Pinch stoneground mustard
Black pepper
Pinch of salt
For extra credit:
Sesame seeds (This did start out as a sesame salad, after all.)
Rinse and drain tatsoi. Slice oranges and remove peel and white pith. Mince onion of choice. Whisk together dressing ingredients. Add tatsoi and other salad ingredients and toss. Top with toasted sesame seeds.
If you have cold chicken on hand, add that to the salad before tossing it and topping it with the sesame seeds. If you don't have cold chicken on hand, invite a friend over and ask her to bring the chicken. (It's only fair, after all you've done for her.)
©2010, 2014 Laynie Tzena.
In the meantime, the tatsoi at Heirloom Organics was irresistible yesterday at the market, and after talking with Mary about something she had tasted with a green that sounds like kamasutra and was served with gomasio and bonito flakes and something else I can't remember, I suddenly saw a salad in my head with sesame oil, tatsoi, and tangerines.
Of course the sesame oil has vanished and even though I love tangerines deeply, the navel oranges are simply amazing right about now and so the original plan went sailing out the window and we have something even better.
Tatsoi Salad with Oranges and Sherry-Walnut Vinaigrette:
For the salad:
Healthy handful of tatsoi (about the size of a head of romaine or butter lettuce)
1/2 orange
1/4 Shallot, 1 scallion, or equivalent amount of red onion (optional)
For the dressing:
2-3 teaspoons walnut oil
1 teaspoon sherry vinegar
Pinch stoneground mustard
Black pepper
Pinch of salt
For extra credit:
Sesame seeds (This did start out as a sesame salad, after all.)
Rinse and drain tatsoi. Slice oranges and remove peel and white pith. Mince onion of choice. Whisk together dressing ingredients. Add tatsoi and other salad ingredients and toss. Top with toasted sesame seeds.
If you have cold chicken on hand, add that to the salad before tossing it and topping it with the sesame seeds. If you don't have cold chicken on hand, invite a friend over and ask her to bring the chicken. (It's only fair, after all you've done for her.)
©2010, 2014 Laynie Tzena.
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