In the Hands of a Chef (35 page)

3.
To make the stock, heat 2 tablespoons olive oil in a large saucepan over high heat. Break each lobster body into 3 or 4 pieces, add to the oil, and sear all over, turning frequently. Add the sliced half onion and celery and sear as well. Add the white wine and enough water to just cover the shells. Add the fennel seeds, orange zest, and bay leaves and simmer for 30 minutes. Strain the stock and discard the solids. (You should end up with 3 cups of liquid.) Add the optional pinch of saffron.

4.
Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 350°F.

5.
Toss the capellini with 2 tablespoons of the olive oil, then spread it evenly over a sheet pan. Bake until the pasta is golden and toasted, about 20 minutes. Toss the pasta several times during baking to ensure it toasts evenly. Set aside.

6.
Heat the remaining 3 tablespoons olive oil in a large Dutch oven or braising pan over medium heat. Add the onion and red pepper, season with salt and pepper, and cook until tender, about 15 minutes. Add the garlic and tomatoes and cook an additional 2 minutes. Add the lobster broth, littlenecks, and orange juice and cook until the clams just begin to open, about 10 minutes.

7.
Add the chickpeas, andouille, and pasta. After 5 minutes, the pasta should be cooked and all the clams should have opened. Remove and discard any unopened clams. Add the lobster, parsley, and basil, and just heat through.

8.
Fill four warm bowls with the stew, making sure that each portion contains lobster, clams, and sausage. Serve immediately, accompanied by the optional red pepper flakes.

P
oultry is like a huge
family with two different branches. The members of one branch—chicken—are respectable, reliable … and boring. The members of the second branch are like a band of crazy interlopers whom no one invited to the reunion—duck, quail, and geese. They’re wild, they’re messy, and they never clean up after themselves. The first group is bland, and the challenge is to figure out how to put some pizzazz back into their character. The quail-duck-and-geese branch has the opposite problem: they come packed with flavor, but how do you cook them, especially without having to hire a cleaning crew to come in after you’re finished?

This chapter tells you how to deal with both branches of the family.

You don’t have to be a culinary romantic to deduce that chickens used to be better. A simple comparison of a roasted organic, free-range chicken with its factory-bred counterpart demonstrates the depth of decline. The meaty flavor of the former tastes as distinctly and immediately of itself as duck or goose; the latter tastes …, no
, feels
pleasant enough, but without much flavor.

The simplest way to improve the taste of the poultry you cook then is to buy organic, free-range chickens. Their flavor more than compensates for their premium price, especially in dishes that call for chicken breasts. Finding organic chicken pieces can be a trial, however, and I often
resort to ordinary legs and thighs; everything else being equal, dark meat always offers deeper flavor than light.

The second strategy is to bring strong flavors to bear on chicken, by seasoning it with spicy rubs or marinades, or by braising, grilling, or smoking the meat. With chicken, you want as many of the external flavors as possible to penetrate the meat. All of these strategies, alone or in combination, are put to good use in the following pages.

Duck, quail, and geese are the tastiest participants in any discussion about poultry, and the most neglected by home cooks. There’s really no excuse for this with quail; it’s the bird I recommend for red-meat lovers. Easily grilled or sautéed, quail involves none of the mess people associate with other dark-meat fowl and has great flavor. Duck and geese, on the other hand, require strategic know-how. The problem with traditional recipes is that they tend to smoke up your kitchen with burning fat. This chapter offers you a foolproof method for producing a duck with crisp skin and moist, tender meat cooked completely on top of the stove. (Fans of duck and goose will find additional recipes for these birds in “A Mile in a Chef’s Shoes, “ page 297.) If you’ve prepared duck in the past and decided it was too much of a hassle, then you may find this recipe a relief.

As always, an instant-read digital thermometer takes some of the guesswork out of telling whether a bird is properly cooked; also, nonstick cooking racks and roasting pans are indispensable when it comes to roasting poultry. Their very minor extra cost will seem trivial during cleanup
after roasting a chicken or turkey, let alone a goose.

F
or years, I automatically added
bay leaves to soups and stocks without much consideration of their effect on flavor. Laura Brennan, my sous-chef at Michela’s, and
I
began experimenting with steeping bay leaves in a variety of liquids—melted butter, white wine for poaching fish, extra virgin olive oil for grilling lamb and dressing salads, even the sweet wine Muscat de Beaumes-de-Venise used to poach pears. We made a simple discovery: when used in large quantities, bay leaves produce an extraordinary combination of butterscotch and eucalyptus that you’d never suspect from their subtler application. Chicken breasts, the culinary equivalent of a blank sheet of paper, take well to a bay-infused butter sauce. This is an extremely easy dish to prepare, with a flavor far out of proportion to the effort involved.

CHICKEN

4 boned chicken breasts (approximately ½ pound each), skin on, split in half to make 8 half-breast cutlets

2 shallots, thinly sliced

2 tablespoons chopped fresh savory

2 tablespoons chopped fresh thyme

2 tablespoons grated lemon zest

6 tablespoons vegetable oil Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

SAUCE

2 cups Chicken Stock (page 31) or 4 cups high-quality canned low-sodium chicken broth, reduced to 2 cups (see page 32)

4 tablespoons unsalted butter

4 bay leaves

1 tablespoon high-quality sherry vinegar

2 tablespoons capers, rinsed (optional) Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

DO AHEAD:
Marinate the chicken for at least 4 hours; longer won’t hurt.

1. Toss the chicken breasts in a large bowl with the shallots, savory, thyme, lemon zest, and 4 tablespoons vegetable oil. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate. Marinate for at least 4 hours and up to 24 hours.

2. Since the cutlets will cook so quickly, it’s a good idea to make the sauce first. Bring the stock to a boil in a medium saucepan and let it cook until there’s only ½ cup left.

3. While the stock is reducing, melt the butter with the bay leaves in a small saucepan over medium-high heat. Cook until the butter just turns brown, 4 to 5 minutes; take care that it doesn’t burn. Remove from the heat and let steep for 20 minutes. Remove the bay leaves.

4. Combine the bay butter and reduced stock in a blender and blend until they’re completely mixed. Transfer to a small saucepan and add
the vinegar and capers and season with salt and pepper. Keep the sauce warm.

5. Preheat the oven to 200°F.

6. Remove the chicken cutlets from the marinade; do not scrape off the marinade. Set the bowl aside. Sprinkle the chicken on both sides with salt and pepper. Heat 1 tablespoon of the vegetable oil in a large sauté pan (preferably nonstick) over medium-high heat. If you have the good fortune to have two large sauté pans, heat a second one with 1 tablespoon of vegetable oil. If you’re using only one pan, you’ll have to cook the cutlets in two batches. When the oil is hot, add 4 cutlets to each pan, skin side down, and cook for 3 to 4 minutes. Flip the cutlets and cook for an additional 3 minutes, or until cooked through. If some of the cutlets are smaller or thinner and cook faster, remove them from the pan and put them on a platter in the oven. If you’re relying on a digital thermometer, it should read 160°F when inserted into the center of the meat when it’s done. Remove the chicken, scrape any leftover shallots out of the marinade bowl into the pan, and cook until caramelized. Sprinkle over the chicken breasts.

7. Serve immediately, with the warm bay butter.

I
’m always searching for ways
to jazz up chicken breasts. One summer, after I’d finished making a batch of chicken and ricotta ravioli, it occurred to me that there had to be an easier way of bringing chicken and herbed ricotta together. Why not just stuff chicken breasts with a ricotta filling and dispense with the pasta altogether? Roasting split breasts on the bone proved to be the simplest way of preparing this dish. The stuffing goes under the skin. Leaving the bones in helps keep the skin anchored in place, and the meat stays juicier.

If you have access to different brands of fresh ricotta, use the firmest you can find; the less moisture in the filling, the better it will stay in the chicken. Because the cheese stuffing comes into contact with the raw chicken, this dish should never be prepared ahead. Stuff the breasts, coat them with the marinade, and roast them right away.

Cooked breasts will keep for a couple of days in the refrigerator. Cut the cold chicken off the bone and slice crosswise into medallions. Sprinkle the medallions with any leftover crumbled ricotta stuffing and drizzle with a squeeze of fresh lemon and extra virgin olive oil.

STUFFING

1 cup ricotta

¼ cup freshly grated Parmesan

2 teaspoons chopped fresh chives

2 teaspoons chopped fresh thyme

2 tablespoons chopped fresh basil

1 teaspoon freshly squeezed lemon juice Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

4 large bone-in chicken half-breasts (approximately 10 ounces each)

MARINADE

2 shallots, thinly sliced

2 tablespoons chopped fresh tarragon

2 tablespoons chopped fresh thyme

2 tablespoons minced lemon zest

¼ cup vegetable oil

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

1 lemon, cut into 4 wedges

1.
Preheat the oven to 375°F.

2.
Combine all of the stuffing ingredients, mixing well.

3.
Gently insert your fingers into the end of one of the chicken breasts to make an opening between the skin and the breast meat, keeping as much of the edges of the skin attached to the meat as possible. Spoon one-quarter of the herbed ricotta into the opening. Gently squeeze and knead the mixture evenly over the breast between the meat and skin. Repeat with the
remaining breasts.

4.
Mix all of the marinade ingredients together in a large bowl. Carefully toss the stuffed breasts in the marinade to coat on all sides. Sprinkle each coated breast with salt and pepper and set skin side up on a rack in a roasting pan.

5.
Roast the chicken for
25 to 35
minutes, depending on the size and thickness of the breasts. The internal temperature of the breast should read 155°F. It’s all right if some of the cheese mixture leaks out from under the skin as the chicken roasts. Let rest for 5 minutes before serving. The temperature will come up another 5 degrees or so as the breasts repose.

6.
If you prefer crispier skin, run the chicken under the broiler for a minute or two before serving. Serve with the lemon wedges.

I
f I don’t have access
to free-range chickens, my second choice is Rock Cornish game hens. One-pound birds, if you can find them, make ideal generous single portions, but sometimes the selection runs between 1½ and 2 pounds. Instead of serving each person an individual bird, I simply carve the larger birds into breasts and leg-thigh pieces and serve them family-style on a platter.

We roast and grill game hens year-round at my house, but by December we begin looking for alternatives to the usual lemon-garlic-thyme-rosemary-extra-virgin-olive-oil we’ve been rubbing into them. The saffron, cinnamon, cumin, and ginger in this recipe shift the flavor into a Moroccan key, a welcome change in the cold-weather months. Onions, chickpeas, and tomatoes roast beneath the hens, catch their drippings, and turn into a wonderfully rich mash. Be careful not to use more than a pinch of saffron, or it will overpower all the other spices (and the hens and anything else you’re eating).

4 garlic cloves, finely chopped

2 tablespoons paprika

2 teaspoons ground cinnamon

2 teaspoons ground ginger

2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper

2 teaspoons ground cumin

2 teaspoons ground coriander

Pinch of saffron, soaked in ¼ cup freshly squeezed lemon juice

¼ cup plus 2 tablespoons vegetable oil

4 Rock Cornish game hens (about 1 pound each) Kosher salt

2 lemons, washed well and cut into quarters

2 tablespoons dark raisins

2 large white onions (about
1½
pounds total), sliced 1 inch thick

1 pound ripe plum tomatoes, each cut into 4 wedges, then halved crosswise