Last Braise of the Season: Portuguese Chicken

It always feel like little special occasion when my favorite magazines arrive, so of course I was glad to see my plastic-wrapped February issue of Bon Appetit in the mailbox a couple months ago. But I actually let out a squeal of glee when I saw that there was an entire section dedicated to braising--my favorite cooking technique.

If there’s one thing I love, it’s a good braised chicken thigh. If you’ve been to this blog more than once, you might have figured that out.

I have plans to plow through several if not all of the recipes in that feature—who wouldn’t want some hearty braised oxtail? The first one I made and loved was the Portuguese Chicken. It is a more exotic than the other braised chicken dishes I’ve made, and that was why I gravitated towards that one. I do admit that I was skeptical about how tender the chicken would be after reading the recipe as it called for not one drop of chicken broth and the prep work was remarkable simple.

I’m happy to report that it is delicious and worth the wait. You get the smokiness from the roasted pepper and the sharp awesomeness of garlic, but there’s also the tang of Dijon mustard and the warm sweetness of the wine. Yesh, I'm channeling a judge on the Food Network’s “Iron Chef America,” but it really is that satisfying. Especially on a Sunday afternoon when the flurries the weatherman predicted turned out to be ten inches of heavy, wet snow.

 
 

Portuguese Chicken
Adapted from recipe in Bon Appetit - February 2011

Ingredients

1 cup all purpose flour

Sweet Paprika

6 to 8 chicken thighs

2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

1 14.5-ounce can diced tomatoes in juice

4 ounces thinly sliced prosciutto, chopped (optional)

1 ½ cup frozen pearl onions, thawed

2 large roasted red peppers from jar, halved, cut into 3/4-inch-wide strips

6 large garlic cloves, pressed or thoroughly minced

4 large fresh Italian parsley sprigs

4 large bay leaves

1/2 cup dry white wine

1/2 cup tawny Port

1 tablespoon Dijon mustard

1 tablespoon tomato paste

1 tablespoon butter, room temperature (optional)

Preparation

Preheat oven to 350°F.

Season flour generously with salt, pepper and paprika. Repeat process with chicken. Add chicken pieces to seasoned flour and turn to coat. Heat oil in heavy large skillet over medium-high heat. Add chicken, skin side down, and sauté until brown, 3 to 5 minutes per side. You will probably have to work in batches. Transfer chicken to plate; reserve skillet.

When all of the chicken is browned, arrange it in a single layer in large ovenproof pot. Top with tomatoes and juice, prosciutto, onions, peppers, garlic, parsley, and bay leaves; sprinkle with 1/4 teaspoon paprika. Add wine and Port to reserved skillet. Bring to boil, scraping up browned bits. Remove from heat. Whisk in mustard and tomato paste; pour mixture over chicken and bring to boil. Cover; transfer to oven.

Braise chicken until very tender, about 1 1/2 hours. Discard bay leaves and parsley. Using tongs, transfer chicken and toppings to platter. Return sauce in pot to simmer. If thicker sauce is desired, stir 1 tablespoon flour and butter in small bowl until smooth paste forms. Add flour paste to sauce and whisk to blend. Simmer until sauce thickens to desired consistency, whisking often. Season sauce to taste with salt and pepper. Spoon over chicken and serve.

NOTE: I actually like the peels on my pearl onions, so I don’t peel them.  If you don’t care for them, peel away! 

A Saturday Chef Original: Cooking School Chicken (Braised Chicken with Leeks and Potatoes)

I don’t like change. I never have. I like old towels, worn-in jeans, misshapen sweaters and old-fashioned comfort foods. I adjust, of course, but slowly, and that falls into my culinary tastes. Even when it’s 90 degrees with sweltering humidity, I still crave the delicious richness of a brasied meat and potatoes. But I started this blog as a way to broaden my tastes, change my eating habits and to learn.


There are infinite things to learn about cooking: techniques, knife skills, information on thousands of ingredients, how to salvage recipes gone wrong. Every recipe teaches me something, as does every mistake. One of the most important lessons I’ve learned is that cooking is a labor of love, a gift to the senses.


Chefs on reality shows and the super-chefs of the Food Network nearly bludgeon viewers with their big idea of Cooking With Love, the use artful and creative preparation of food as a way to express affection to family and loved ones. It is a beautiful sentiment, and realistically, a fantastic and wholesomely marketable way to promote celebrity chefs and their shows, and sell Food Network cookware.


But it’s also true.


The act of cooking serves a paramount purpose: nourishing the people close to you. It is a simple task that can be incredibly profound, and it’s never more apparent than when you discover or create a recipe that inspires much more than just yummy noises. A simple meal can be the bedrock of tradition and nurture celebration. My understanding of the Cooking With Love concept has once again been reinforced by creating. It is everything I love: rustic braised chicken suspended in a rich sauce studded with potatoes. It is warming and hearty, and can be made in about just an hour.


I have dubbed this dish Cooking School Chicken as I get to practice a lot of techniques—braising, deglazing, chopping—and because it has taught me the biggest cooking lesson there is and one that will never change.


 
Ingredients


1 pound baby red potatoes, cut in bite-size pieces

6 to 8 chicken thighs (with bone and skin)

1 teaspoon dried thyme

Flour for dredging

Olive oil

1 ½ to 2 medium leeks, washed and finely chopped

1 cup dry white wine

2 to 3 carrots, peeled, cut in edible pieces

4 cups chicken broth

1 tablespoon lemon juice (or juice of ½ lemon)

2 tablespoons Half & Half

Salt, Pepper

Parsley Flakes (optional)

Cut potatoes into even bite-size pieces, halves or quarters for the larger spuds. Rinse. Pour potatoes into a medium pot, cover with water and place over medium-high heat to boil while you chop vegetables and prep chicken. Boil potatoes until they are soft but still a bit firm, about 4 to 5 minutes. Drain. Season conservatively with salt, pepper and a pat of butter.

Wash and finely chop leeks. Set aside.

Peel and rinse carrots. Quarter carrots lengthwise, then cut into roughly 2-inch strips (Note: You can use baby carrots to decrease prep time. I have used both. I find that larger carrots impart more flavor. And I really like peeling them).

Rinse and pat chicken dry. Season with salt, pepper and dried thyme on both sides. Dredge in flour seasoned with same spices. Be sure to tap chicken gently to remove any excess flour.

Place the biggest skillet you have (16” or bigger) over moderately high heat and add enough olive oil to coat bottom of the pan. When oil is hot, place chicken skin-side down and brown on both sides, about 5 minutes per side. You may need to work in batches as not to crowd the pan. Transfer chicken to plate.

Drain off oil, chicken juices and darkened flour and reserve in measuring cup. Carefully wipe out any burnt bits from bottom of pan.

Place skillet over medium heat. Add about 2 tablespoons of reserved oil, then leeks. Sweat until leeks are soft and fragrant, about 3 minutes. Season with salt, pepper. Deglaze with white wine. Cook until liquid begins to bubble at the sides. Add carrots and 1 teaspoon of thyme.

Add 2 cups of chicken broth and stir to combine, allow to cook until liquid is boiling and has reduced a bit. Add chicken, skin-side up, and juices from plate. Cover and simmer chicken on low until meat can be easily removed from the bone with a fork and carrots are done, about 30 to 40 minutes. Shake the pan peridocially while simmer.

When chicken is done, transfer to plate. The leftover liquid should now be thicker and even formed a brown crust in some spots (don’t panic, it’s flavor!). Increase heat to medium. Add remaining chicken broth and stir. Let sauce thicken and reduce for about 10 minutes. Season with pepper and thyme if needed. Add potatoes and two palmfuls of parsley flaskes for color.

When sauce has thickened to desired consistency, add lemon juice to brighten and Half & Half to thicken. Check and adjust seasoning if needed*. Add chicken back to skillet and leave on heat for a few minutes to marry flavors.

Serve immediately. This can be made a day ahead of time.

Recipe Notes

*Lemon juice will bring out the flavor of salt, so use it conservatively when seasoning sauce and vegetables.

*Also, I almost always use Half & Half in place of heavy cream unless I'm baking. It’s readibly available, and a bit healthier. Feel free to use cream if you wish.

*Recipe originally posted on http://www.foodieslikeusblog.com/ as a guest blog by yours truly.

Saturday Chef Does Beef: Decadent Braised Short Ribs

Cooking is about time and timing.  Judging by the lines at the drive-thrus on any given weeknight, Americans want food quickly.  Sometimes, that's a good thing--a pre-packaged salad, a bagel from Panera.  But other times good food needs time for flavors to marry, for fat to render and taste to blossom. 


When I started cooking, I swore I wouldn't be one of those cooks who marinated meats overnight or spent seven hours making ONE cake (that recipe coming soon, LMAO).  Then I went on the search for a beautiful, exquisite, fancy recipe for this blog, and I found one for Braised Short Ribs in the February issue "Bon Appetit."  I'd had a recipe before, but it didn't have that taste that justified the time invested. 


Then I tried the magazine's version with cheaper wines and my own touches. The result was nothing short of amazing.  I'd never thought I'd be able to make anything like this in my life.  This recipe had me seriously contemplating culinary school as I was so proud of the result. 


So, yes, this recipe is a lot of work and requires a lot of time.  But it is amazing and more importantly, it's do-able.  Make it for your man or your mother or your friends, and take the time to soak in their praises. 



Serves: 4


Ingredients

4 pounds or 8 to 10 short ribs
Olive oil
Salt (both kosher and table)
Pepper
Dried Thyme
6 Fresh Thyme Sprigs
½ to 1 medium onion, chopped
3 to 4 carrots, peeled and sliced diagonally in half-inch coins
2 to 3 bay leaves
1 ½ cup of red wine (Chianti is best)
½ cup port
3 tablespoons of Balsamic Vinegar
1 ½ to 3 cups of low sodium beef broth

Season all sides of short ribs with generously with kosher salt, pepper and dried thyme. Let rest for 10 to 15 minutes.

Heat a large pot over medium-high heat and add enough olive oil to coat the bottom of the pan. When oil is hot, add ribs, fat side down and brown on all meaty sides, about 5 to 7 minutes per side. NOTE: This process can take awhile, so I usually chop my vegetables while the meat is browning as not to rush it. You should probably work in batches of 4 to 5 ribs each.

When ribs are browned, set aside on a plate. Drain off all of all of the oil and drippings from pan except for about 2 to 3 tablespoons. Toss onions into pot over medium heat and sweat until fragrant and they beginning to soften, about 3 to 4 minutes. Add carrots, fresh thyme sprigs, bay leaves and season with salt and pepper. Cook, stirring constantly, for a few minutes. I use the edge of my spoon and bruise the thyme sprigs to release more flavor.

Add wine and port to pot. Stir to combine, and cook until it begins to boil lightly for about 3 to 5 minutes before adding the balsamic vinegar and 1 ½ cups of broth. Let mixture come to a boil again and cook for 5 to 7 minutes to concentrate flavor. Taste mixture. It should be flavorful and well-balanced. If anything it is not to your liking, add more wine, port or broth. Adjust seasonings as you like.

Place ribs back into pan, bone side up. Nestling them together can be tricky, but try to get them into one layer. Broth should just cover the meat. If it doesn’t, add more chicken broth. Cover and simmer on low for one hour.

Check ribs. Bones may have loosened or fallen off completely. This is good! Keep them in the pot. If you can turn or flip the ribs, go ahead, just make sure bone side is still up. If the liquid has reduced a lot, add more broth. You also may want to check and adjust seasonings, sparingly. Cover and simmer for another 90 minutes.

NOTE: We’ve now entered what I call the Beef Stealer phase of this long process. This is when the house smells of delectable simmering meat, and people, like parents or even neighbors, come out of the woodwork to hover around the pot. They tell that they thought you left the pot on and IT’S GOING TO BURN! So they’ll check it and taste it for you. You know, to save it. You must guard the pot. Use your chef’s knife if you have to. The finished product will be worth it. But you, The Chef, can steal all the beef you want.

After the longest 90 minutes of your culinary life, ribs are done and braised. Taste them. They should be tremor-worthy good…so buttery soft, you can cut them with a fork. If they are still a little chewy, braise for 30 more minutes.

This is generally when you can stop for the day and put them away once the ribs have cooled—ribs in one container and the liquid and a few bones in another. I know it’s hard, but do this and your heart will thank you (If you do not want to wait until the next day, pour cooled braising liquid into a plastic container and freeze until fat solidifies. Scrape off, discard and continue).

The next day.

Remove ribs from the fridge. Pre-heat oven to 400.

Open gravy container. Here you will find an alarming layer of fat on top of the gravy. Skim off with a spoon and discard. Add the rest of the gravy to a pan over medium low-heat. Thin out with a bit of beef broth and reduce for about 10 to 15 minutes. Adjust seasonings if needed.

Place ribs onto a cookie sheet and pop into the oven for 12 to 15 minutes, turning over midway through cooking. This not only will reheat them, but it will add a light crust to the outside while leaving them succulent and juicy on the inside.

Finally, finally, serve with roasted potatoes. Drizzle with gravy.

*I've made this recipe five times and sadly, 9 short ribs serves about 3 people.  It's THAT good.