Gourmet Today: Grilled Chicken Palliards with Nectarine Chutney (p. 525)

I wanted to make a recipe from each of Gourmet Today's new chapters. But, since my gas grill is under the weather, the Grilled Dishes chapter presented a bit of a challenge. I chose this recipe because I knew that I could cook the chicken in the broiler. That, and it seemed like an excellent use for all of the nectarines from my CSA box.

First, I cut up some nectarines into one-inch pieces (no need to peel them), and I chopped a tomato (didn't peel that, either), and some garlic. I put the nectarines, tomatoes and garlic in a pot with some vinegar, brown sugar, curry powder, and salt. I simmered the chutney for about twenty minutes.

While the chutney bubbled away, I made the chicken palliards. I put each of the boneless, skinnless chicken breasts in between two sheets of plastic wrap. Normally, when I make palliards, I bang the heck out of them with a meat pounder. Very effective, but also very noisy. It just so happened that when I was cooking this, my nine-month-old son was asleep, and my wife would kill me if I woke him up with all the noise. What to do ... what to do? Ah-ha! I put a big, heavy frying pan on top of the wrapped chicken, and pressed with all my might. I didn't get it as thin as I could have with the pounder, but it worked reasonably well. I patted the chicken dry, brushed it with some olive oil and seasoned it with salt and pepper.

Now, if my gas grill weren't sick (It just won't get hot. I think that the gas gets are clogged or something.), I'd have put the chicken on the grill. But instead, I cooked them under the broiler. It worked just fine, but of course, there's really no substitute for grilling.

I served the chicken with the chutney (topped with some chopped fresh cliantro), along with some fresh grean beans and a potato dish from The Book that I'll blog about soon. The chicken was good, but the star was the chutney. It was sweet and sour and tangy with an excellent punch of Indian flavor and aroma. The cilantro on top was a nice bright, clean note that contrasted with the richer, spicier chutney.

Gourmet Today says that the start-to-finish time is 25 minutes. It took me a bit longer than that, but certainly less than an hour. This really is a delicious, and really do-able weeknight meal.

Date Cooked: September 6, 2009
Degree of Difficulty: Pretty easy
Rating: A-

185. Colombian Chicken, Corn and Potato Stew (Ajiaco) (p. 370)

I don't know what I was thinking when I decided to make this recipe on my Cape Cod vacation. Maybe it was the corn on the cob, or the avocado in the ingredient list that made me think this was a light, summery dish. Don't get me wrong, this stew is delicious. In fact, it's probably one of my favorite dishes in The Project so far. But this ain't beach food.

This is a hearty, filling stew of chicken, corn and potatoes, with a thick, rich gravy. The only way I can describe its flavor is "Thanksgiving in a Bowl." What I really liked about this recipe was that, with almost no effort (but a little bit of time - almost two hours start to finish), it turned some pretty modest ingredients - a sad-looking store-brand chicken, a few ears of corn, and a few potatoes - into a really satisfying meal.

First, I cut a whole chicken up into serving pieces and sprinkled them with salt and pepper. I browned the chicken pieces in some butter in the stew pot. I had to do it in a couple of batches so that it wouldn't crowd. For some reason, I brought my tall stock pot with me to the Cape. If I had brought my Dutch oven instead, I could have browned the chicken all at once. No problem, it just added about ten minutes to my cooking time. I transferred the chicken to a plate, and cooked some chopped white onion in the rendered chicken fat with some salt, pepper and a good amount of dried oregano. As the onion cooked, I grated some potatoes, and then added them to the pot along with the chicken, some store-bought chicken broth, and some water. I brought it to a simmer and then cooked it for a little less than a half hour. When the chicken was completely cooked, I removed it from the pot and set it aside to cool a little bit. Meanwhile, I added some Yukon Gold potatoes (that I had cubed and soaked in cold water) to the pot and cooked until they were almost tender. Then, I added three ears of corn that I had shucked and cut cross-wise into one-inch pieces, and cooked for a few minutes. Finally, I removed the skin and bones from the chicken, shredded the meat and added it to the pot.

The Book gives a list of accompaniments that can be served with this stew: cilantro, heavy cream, capers, and avocado. I'm sure that they'd all be good, but for ease of grocery shopping in a vacation rental, I chose to go with just the avocado.

As I said, I really liked this stew. Browning the chicken at the start gave the stew a nice rich "chicken-y" flavor. The oregano made the stew taste and smell wonderful. The real stroke of genius in this recipe is the addition of the grated potatoes which gave the gravy a nice thickness and body. My only complaint was the corn. It was really difficult to eat the corn pieces. First you need to fish them out of the gravy and then nibble the kernels off the too-small and too-hot pieces of corncob. I like my wife's suggestion for solving this problem: cut the kernels off the cob before cooking and add the kernels and the cobs to the pot. That way, you get the flavor from the cobs without having to deal with the difficulty of eating the corn in the finished stew. I'll try it this way the next time that I make this stew, and I will be making this stew again, often ... but when it's not so darned hot out.

Date Cooked: August 17, 2009
Degree of Difficulty: Easy
Rating: A

170. Buffalo Chicken Wings (p. 54)

I've seen a buffalo or two at a zoo somewhere along the way (nothing like Teena's recent experience of getting stuck in traffic as a herd of them crossed the highway). But as best as I can remember, they don't have wings. Or do they?

Of course they don't. Everyone knows that Buffalo wings are chicken wings, but not just any chicken wings. This recipe comes from The Anchor Bar in Buffalo, New York, the place that claims to have invented them in 1964. Not surprisingly, in Buffalo, they're just called "wings." Makes sense. Here in New England, we just call it "chowdah," not "New England Clam Chowder."

First, I made the blue cheese dip. (What are Buffalo wings without blue cheese dip?) I whisked together two parts mayonnaise and one part plain yogurt and then stirred in some crumbled blue cheese. I used twice as much blue cheese as The Book called for. What can I say, I love the stuff. This was an excellent dip. Just the right consistency, not too thick, not too thin. Nice and creamy with the tang of the yogurt and the bite of the blue cheese. This dip would also be excellent on a wedge salad. Yum!

Next, the wings. The Anchor Bar deep fries them, but The Book gives the option of frying or grilling. I chose to grill mine. I cut the wings in half (after I cut off and discarded the wing tips). I grilled them for a few minutes on each side on a preheated, lightly oiled gas grill. As the wings were grilling, I mixed some melted butter, Frank's Red Hot sauce, and cider vinegar in a great big bowl. I put the grilled wings in the bowl and tossed to coat them with the sauce.

I served the wings, with the traditional celery sticks, at my niece's middle-school graduation cookout (congratulations, Alex!). They were great! I'm sure that all of the Buffalo wings I've had at restaurants have been fried. I really prefer them grilled. They have a nice crispiness and that great grilled flavor. The little bit of butter in the sauce gives them just that extra richness and smooths out the flavor. These wings weren't too spicy (actually, they weren't spicy enough for my tastes, but they're good for a mixed crowd).

Date Cooked: June 25, 2009
Degree of Difficulty: Easy
Rating: A

166. Foolproof Grilled Chicken (p. 363)

I have a little bit of a problem with The Book's use of "foolproof" in the titles of several of its recipes. It's the same problem that I have with the "... For Dummies" and "Idiot's Guide ..." Books. You see, by calling this recipe Foolproof Grilled Chicken, The Book is telling me, "this recipe is so easy, not even a fool like you could botch it." I don't appreciate being called names.

But, after tasting this chicken, I got over myself. It's good enough to endure a little bit of name-calling.

The key to this recipe is brining the chicken. I know, I know, brining sounds like a pain in the neck--and it is--but, in this case, it made some pretty darn good chicken. First, I boiled a whole lot of salt and some sugar in a large pot of water for fifteen minutes. Then I cooled it compltely. Maybe some food scientist (are you out there Harold McGee?) could explain why it was so important to boil salt and sugar for fifteen minutes only to cool it completely. I figured I'd just trust The Book on this one. I put six pounds of chicken parts (I cut up a whole chicken rather than buying pre-cut parts) into the brine, covered it, and put it into the refrigerator for six hours.

Remember how I was saying that brining is a pain in the neck? Yeah, well, The Book says that you can brine the chicken a day in advance, but you still have to remove the chicken from the brine after six hour. I suppose leaving the chicken to soak in a saltwater bath for longer than that would be a bad thing. Well, I finally got the chicken into the brine at 10 o'clock on a Friday night. So, all you need to do is count to six to realized that, when my wife got up at 4 o'clock on Saturday morning to feed Jack, I had to get up, too, to take the chicken out of the brine. The things I do for The Project!

The Book gives instructions for cooking the chicken on either a charcoal grill or a gas grill. I've been wanting a nice Weber charcoal grill for a while, but for the time being, I've been using a gas grill (also a Weber, and we're pretty happy with it). I cranked the heat up all the way to pre-heat the grill for about ten minutes. I seared the meat for a little while, and then turned the heat down just a bit to cook the rest of the way.

There's another thing, besides the brining, that makes this recipe different from other grilled chicken recipes. The Book says to coat the cooked chicken in a Asian-inspired vinaigrette made with cilantro, mint, garlic, red pepper flakes, lime juice and fish sauce. I didn't make the vinaigrette and I didn't coat the cooked chicken with it. To be honest, I just ran out of time and decided to skip it. There may be some sticklers out there who'll say that I don't get to check this recipe off the list because I didn't make the vinaigrette. Well, this is my Project, and I get to say what counts as a recipe. I got out of bed at 4 o'clock in the morning to take the chicken out of the brine, so gosh darn it, I'm counting this one. (But, grilled chicken coated with Asian vinaigrette sounds pretty good, and I'm sure that I'll come back to this recipe some summer day.)

The chicken was excellent. The brining really did make a difference and was worth the extra effort (although I could have timed it better.) The chicken was nice and crispy and grill-makred on the outside, and tender and flavorful on the inside. Even the wings, which are usually the last parts to go after every grabs the drumsticks and breasts, were really good. Since I had no vinaigrette, I served the grilled chicken with the Manchamantal Sauce I made to go with the pork kebabs. Like I said, the Manchamantal Sauce was like a tropical barbecue sauce, so it worked just as well with the chicken as it did with the pork.

Date Cooked: June 13, 2009
Degree of Difficulty: Medium
Rating: A-

153. Malaysian-Style Chicken Curry (p. 359)

Like a lot of people, when I go to Thai restaurants, I often go with the old standby, and order Pad Thai. Recently, I've ventured further afield in the menu choices, and I've become a fan of various curry dishes, especially green curry.

This recipe, from Malaysia, Thailand's neighbor to the south, reminded me of some of the better curries I've had at Thai restaurants.

First, I roughly chopped a whole lot of shallots, some garlic and ginger root. I pureed all of these ingredients in the food processor with a little bit of water to make a paste. A very pungent paste! When I took the lid off the food processor, the "fumes" from the shallots and garlic filled the kitchen and made my eyes water a little bit.

Next, I browned some boneless, skinless chicken breasts in my large Dutch oven. I transferred the browned (but not yet completely cooked) chicken to a plate. I turned the heat down and added the shallot/garlic/ginger paste, cooking for a bit and adding some curry powder. I returned the chicken to the pot and added a can of coconut milk and chicken broth. I also added a whole jalapeño chili, which I had made four slits in. Presumably, as the curry simmers, the jalapeño's heat gets infused into the sauce. I also added a cinnamon stick and one whole clove. The Book calls for one star anise, but my wife couldn't find any at the grocery store. She brought home some anise seed instead. At first, I said, it's not the same, but then I checked The Cook's Thesaurus, and learned that a 1/2 teaspoon of anise seed and a pinch of allspice will approximate a single star anise. I simmered it all together for a while until the chicken was cooked through. Then I took out the chicken and simmered the sauce for a bit longer to thicken. When I was done, I served the chicken and sauce over rice and sprinkled it with some fresh clinatro.

This is one of the best meals I've made from The Book so far. The chicken was so tender and flavorful. The sauce was fragrant and delicious. The coconut milk gave it just a touch of sweetness and a rich, velvety texture. The jalapeño and the other spices gave the dish a multi-layered flavor with just the right amount of heat (OK, I wouldn't have minded just a bit more heat). Even the cilantro on top wasn't just for looks. It perfectly finished off the dish with a bright clean note.

This dish remineded me of an excellent green curry that I get at a local Thai restaurant called Sweet Basil in Andover, Massachusetts. I will certainly make this dish again. It's a real keeper.

Date Cooked: May 17, 2009
Degree of Difficulty: Medium
Rating: A

135. Chicken Long Rice (p. 247)

Mike Myers used to do a bit called "Coffee Talk" on Saturday Night Live. The character's name was Linda Richmond, and every now and then, when she got a little verklemmt, she'd pose an imponderable for the viewers to ponder while she tried to collect herself. A couple of examples are: "The Holy Roman Empire was neither holy, Roman nor an empire. Discuss." and "The peanut is neither a pea nor a nut. Discuss." Well this dish could be another Linda Richmond imponderable: "Chicken Long Rice is neither long nor is it rice. Discuss."

This recipe is a little like the Congee I made a while ago in that both start by making a simple stock and end with shredding the chicken you used to make the stock and adding to the finished dish. First, I simmered some chicken, ginger and salt in some water for about an hour to make the stock. The Book calls for whole chicken thighs, which would have been nice if I could have found some because thigh meat is really flavorful and the bones and skin would have added some depth to the quick broth. Unfortunately, my local mega-mart was totally out of chicken thighs. It was the day before Easter, and the store was a mad house. The meat department had all sorts of stuff that they don't usually carry: marrow bones, beef kidney, fowl, cornish hens and more hams than you could shake a stick at. But no chicken thighs. So, I used split chicken breasts. The result was that the broth wasn't as flavorful as I think it was supposed to be. But the tradeoff was that there was a lot more meat in the finished dish than there would have been otherwise.

After the broth was done cooking, I removed the chicken and set it aside to cool a bit before shredding it. I strained the stock and put it back into the rinsed-out pot. I added some more water, one and a half Knorr chicken bullion cubes, chopped onions, and four dried porcini mushrooms. (The Book calls for dried shitakes, but the mega-mart only had porcinis, and you make do with what you've got.) After I brought this to a boil I added some bean thread noodles broken up into pieces. I cooked it for a bit and then let it sit for a bit longer. Before serving, I added some chopped scallions and the shredded chicken.

So, as you can see, there is no rice to be found in this recipe, and since the bean threads are broken into pieces, there's nothing "long" about it. But even if it isn't really "long rice," it is good. The flavor is excellent. The bullion cubes and dried mushrooms have a lot to do with that. The chopped onions (which are not sauteed before they go into the pot) and the scallions give the dish a nice, fresh oniony flavor. If you've never had bean threads before, they do take a bit of getting used to. They're sometimes called cellophane noodles because when they're cooked, they're clear. They also have a squishy texture and an innate "worminess." If you can get past that (I have), you'll like this.

Date Cooked: April 11, 2009
Degree of Difficulty: Easy
Rating: B+

126. Congee (Chinese Chicken and Rice Porridge) (p. 122)

One of my favorite books of all time (and favorite movies, for that matter) is The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck. The story follows Wang Lung on his journey from a modest country farmer to a wealthy aristocrat. Throughout the rises and falls of his fortunes, Wang Lung always remembers his connection to the land and the importance of his family.

According to The Book (the Gourmet Cookbook, not The Good Earth) Congee was often eaten morning, noon and night in Chinese peasant homes. So it's no surprise that this recipe made me think of The Good Earth, and Wang Lung's humble and constant companion, O-Lan. As I made this hearty, rustic dish, I could picture O-Lan patiently tending the fire under a large kettle of rice porridge, and then serving it to Wang Lung and his crusty old father.

They say that good things come to those who wait, and that you can't rush greatness. But when it's already 6:30 and you're looking at a recipe with a total cooking time of five and a half hours, you do the best you can. Did I cut a few corners? Did I cook the stock for two hours instead of three? Did I cook the rice for one hour instead of two? Would it have been better if I hadn't rushed it? Yes on all counts. But, you know what? It was pretty good anyway. I really liked it, and I'd make it again when I have the time to do it right. (And just when will that be? No, really ... when will that be?)

Other than time (that's time, not thyme), you really don't need much to make this recipe. Start by cutting a whole chicken into eight serving pieces, put it in a pot and bring it to a boil, skimming off the gunk that bubbles up at the surface. The Book doesn't say whether you're supposed to put the carcass (what was leftover after I cut the chicken into serving pieces) into the pot. I didn't, but I suppose I could have. Reduce to a simmer and add some Chinese rice wine, some thick slices of ginger and a few smashed scallions. After about 20 minutes of simmering, the breast meat is cooked through. The Book says to remove one of the breast halves from the pot and set it aside to cool. This will become the shredded chicken served on top of the finished porridge. If I had it to do again, I would have removed both breast halves. There simply wasn't enough meat in the finished dish. Then, leave the stock to simmer for about three hours (or just barely two hours, if you are in a rush like me).

Strain the stock and discard the solids. Add the rice, bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer for about two hours (or just barely one hour, if you are in a rush like me). The Book says that the finished porridge should have the consistency of oatmeal. Mine was a little more watery than it was supposed to be, but it was late and I needed to get to bed. Anyway, I was making this a couple of days before we planned on eating it. I knew that the rice would continue to absorb the liquid as it sat in the refrigerator. So, by the time we re-heated it, the consistency was just about right.

To serve, I topped the porridge with the shredded chicken breast, some finely sliced scallions, finely chopped ginger and some salt and pepper. The flavor was good, if somewhat subtle (I'm sure that this had to do with the abbreviated cooking time). But, it had a nice fragrance and the ginger, chicken and scallion flavors came through. It also had a slight, but pleasant, sweetness. The texture was a little mooshy, but in a comforting, and not off-putting way. I thought that because of all of the rice and liquid, this would be a real "belly-bomb" of dish, but surprisingly the meal didn't have staying power, and I was looking for more to eat later (cookies and ice cream anyone?).


Date Cooked: March 15, 2009
Degree of Difficulty: Easy
Rating: B

114. Chicken Club Sandwiches (p. 188)

Our friends, Travis and Jodi, came over for lunch one Saturday a few weeks ago to visit our new son, Jack. Here's a picture of them with the little guy. Check out the cool hat that Jodi knit (knitted?) for Jack!

I decided to make this recipe* for a nice, light lunch. Because it came from The Book, I knew it would be good, but I still had some reservations. The club sandwich is a ubiquitous presence on just about every restaurant lunch menu. I've had a lot of really bad ones over the years, and so I wondered how The Book was going to improve upon it. Well, for starters, as The Book's notes point out, most of the club sandwiches you've eaten are slapped together with elements (toast, turkey, bacon) that were prepared hours in advance. Here, everything is made fresh, and then there's the "Gourmet touch" that elevates this pedestrian sandwich to something just a little bit special.

The first thing that I did was to poach the chicken breasts. This is an excellent, easy preparation for poached chicken breasts that isn't just limited to this sandwich. I'll use this method whenever I want some cold cooked chicken for salads, sandwiches, or anything else that I would have bought ShortCuts for in the past. (Fresh, homemade food: 1. Processed food: 0.) I put the chicken breasts in a skillet and just covered them with water. I brought the water to a simmer and simmered it for a few minutes, turning the chicken over once. Then, I took it off the heat, covered it and let it stand in the hot water for a little while longer. The result? Tender, moist and fully-cooked(!) chicken.

While the chicken was doing its thing, I cooked some bacon until it was nice and crispy. Then I made the spread, which is what really makes this sandwich sing. It's pretty simple: just regular mayonnaise whisked together with some sour cream, parsley, lemon juice and zest, and some salt and pepper. The lemon juice and sour cream jump start the mayonnaise and give it a real zing.

Finally, I was ready to assemble the sandwiches. I started by spreading the mayo on slices of toasted white sandwich bread. Then I layered on some Boston lettuce, tomato slices, bacon, and avacado slices. Another slice of toast and some more mayo and some of the poached chicken (which I had sliced diagonally). I topped the whole thing of with a final slice of toast spread with a bit more mayo.

I sliced the sandwiches in half diagonally. If I had been smart enough to remember to buy some of those fancy frilly toothpicks, I could have cut the sandwiches into the traditional quarters. But, this is one big sandwich, and without the picks, there was no way quarters would have stayed together.

This was a delicious sandwich. The avacado and the great mayo spread really made all the difference. It wasn't hard to do, but it was more work than you'd want to go through for a quick lunch. But if you're looking for somthing more than "just a sandwich," give this a try.

Date Cooked: February 21, 2009
Degree of Difficulty: Medium
Rating: A-

*This recipe is not on epicurious.com.

107. Chicken and Rice Soup (p. 122)

A lot of people have been talking about the Great Depression these days. When Herbert Hoover promised Americans "a chicken in every pot," I wonder if he had this recipe in mind.

This is, without a doubt, a recipe for our times. It is simple, cheap and delicious. Really, this soup couldn't be easier (The Book calls it "the simplest soup ever made from scratch"). All you need to do is throw all of the ingredients - including a whole chicken, brown rice and some onion, carrots and celery - in a pot and simmer it for an hour. As the soup simmers, the soup makes its own stock. When it's done, just take the chicken out of the pot, pull the meat apart and put it back in the soup. That's it.

This is also a very economical recipe. The only thing I needed to buy to make this soup was a chicken (and I even had a coupon!). I already had all of the other ingredients in my cupboard and refrigerator. And picking up on the waste-not-want-not theme, I supplemented the soup with whatever leftover vegetables I had on hand: a bit of green cabbage, a zucchini, some frozen green beans and corn. Not only was it thrifty and resourceful to add the extra veggies, I think that it made the soup all the more wholesome and delicious.

Speaking of delicious, this was one of the best soups I've made as part of The Project. The broth was fresh and bright, the veggies were delicious, the brown rice gave a nice substance and texture, and the chicken was perfectly cooked. It was tender and moist. I will definitely make this soup again, maybe even as soon as next week.

Date Cooked: February 8, 2009
Degree of Difficulty: VERY easy
Rating: A

UPDATE: 2/23/09
I made this soup again yesterday. This time, I added some zucchini, summer squash, red bell pepper, brocolli, and a whole mess of frozen veggies: corn, green beans, and even some snow peas. The result was just as good as the first time I made it. It was a little sweeter than last time, I think because of the red pepper and the rather large amount of frozen corn that I used. Delicious just the same.

98. Chicken and Sausage Jumbalaya (p. 369)

These days I'm looking for recipes that offer a big return on the time investment. This recipe* was exactly what I was looking for. This dish made enough food for dinner three nights in a row ... and it was so good that we didn't mind the repetition.

I was surprised to learn that jumbalaya traces it roots to paella. I guess it makes sense. Both are hearty dishes of meat, vegetables and rice with a rich stock. I also learned the difference between jumbalaya and the other classic Louisiana dishes, gumbo and etouffee. In the former, everythng is cooked together, but in the traditional preparations of the latter, the rice is cooked separately.

To make this dish, first, I browned some chicken pieces, and by some, I mean five pounds! (I told you this recipe makes a lot of food.) Then I browned some sliced smoked turkey sausage in the oil and rendered chicken fat. The Book calls for andouille sausage, but because my wife won't eat pork, I opted for turkey sausage. Once that was done, I set aside the meat and drained off almost all of the fat and cooked onions, celery, green peppers and garlic. Then, I put the chicken back in the pot, along with some chopped canned tomatoes, chicken stock, water and cayenne. I simmered all of this for a while.

Then, The Book's instructions get a little confusing. I had to read it a few times, but once I figured it out, it made sense. First, you take the chicken out of the pot and put it in a bowl. Then you measure the cooking liquid and vegetables to make sure that it's seven cups. If more, cook it down, if less, add water. Then add uncooked rice to the seven cups of vegetables and cooking liquid. Arrange the chicken on top and bake it for about a half hour.

Cooking the rice in the same liquid that the chicken and vegetables simmered it gives it a wonderful richness. Baking the rice instead of cooking it on the stovetop was great, too. The even heat of the oven makes sure that each grain of rice is cooked perfectly.

This was an excellent, hearty stick-to-your ribs meal. It reheated well, and as I said, it was so tasty, we didn't mind the repetition of eating it night after night. It would also make a crowd-pleasing meal for a party.

Date Cooked: January 11, 2009
Degree of Difficulty: Medium
Rating: A-

* This recipe is not online.

65. Chicken Stock (p. 928)

When I made Risotto with Porcini a few weeks back, I used the last of my frozen home-made chicken stock. So, it was time to replenish the supply, and I went straight to the Basics chapter of The Book.

This recipe* starts with a whole, three-pound chicken cut into eight pieces. The chicken and the neck and giblets (except the liver ... it can make the stock bitter) go into your biggest pot with a whole lot of water. Bring it to a boil. The Book, oh-so-politely, says to skim off the "froth." But let's call the gross, foamy, bubbling mass of chicken fat what it really is: scum. Anyway, once that little bit of unpleasantness is behind you, it's smooth sailing from there. Add the remaining ingredients: two onions (peels on ... who knew?), garlic, carrots, celery, fresh parsley and spices. Simmer for three hours, occasionally skimming any additional froth.

Once it's done, strain it through a sieve, discard all of the chicken and vegetables, and cool the stock completely at room temperature. The Book says to chill the stock in the refrigerator and then to "scrape the congealed fat from chilled stock." This instruction conjures up an image of a hard film of fat over the top of the stock. I have to admit, I was a little disappointed when, after chilling overnight, there were just a few blobs of fat floating on the surface. These were easily spooned off, no "scraping" necessary.

The finished stock was delicious. Intensely flavored with a beautiful golden color. And while it cooked mostly unattended during a Saturday filled with household chores, it filled the house with a nice comforting aroma.

This was a good recipe, but I felt a little wasteful throwing away the chicken pieces after the stock was done. The stock recipe that I usually make comes from Jamie Oliver's The Naked Chef, and it uses chicken carcasses, so you get to use the chicken meat for other purposes. I could tell the difference in the flavor, though. The Gourmet stock was more flavorful than Jamie's.

When all was said and done, I put ten one-cup portions of stock in the freezer. And, do you know what? It's almost gone already, after I made the Kale and White Bean Soup (check back soon), and after my wife made a delicious pumpkin soup from Cooking Light.
Date Cooked: October 18, 2008
Degree of Difficulty: Easy
Rating: A-

*This recipe from epicurious is similar to the one in The Book.

59. Roast Chicken with Pan Gravy (p. 354)

Our friends Travis and Jodi came over for dinner a couple of weeks ago. They are newlyweds, and they were coming over to show us their wedding pictures and tell us all about their honeymoon adventures in Mexico. I knew that this occasion called for something special. I decided on this recipe* for a classic roasted chicken with a simple pan gravy.

I took The Book's advice and got an organic, free-range chicken from Whole Foods, rather than the oven-stuffer-roaster from the mega-mart that I'd usually get. I don't know if it was the the chicken's all-natural, happily free-ranging life, or if it was the cooking method, but this was a good roast chicken.

And easy too! I had to read and re-read the recipe a few times because I thought I was missing something. There's nothing in the recipe about trussing or tying or tucking or anything like that. Just rub the chicken all over, inside and out, with salt and pepper and plop it in a roasting pan. The Book says to put the bird on a rack, but I don't have one for my small roasting pan. But the lack of a rack didn't do any harm to the finished bird. Pour some melted butter over it and roast for a little over an hour until it reaches the appropriate internal temperature. The only other thing that you have to do is turn and baste the bird every 20 minutes or so.

Once the chicken is done, you move it to a platter to rest while you make the pan gravy. Start by putting the pan juices into a small saucepan. Then put the roasting pan on the stovetop and deglaze it with a little chicken stock and water. I love deglazing! It's really satisfying to work all of the little brown bits off of the bottom of the roasting pan, and it makes cleanup a lot easier in the end. The deglazing liquid is poured into the saucepan, brought to a boil and whisked together with some cornstarch (I needed to add more than The Book calls for to get it to thicken up at all). The gravy is finished off with a little bit of lemon juice, salt and pepper (in the flurry of pre-dinner activity, I missed this last step).

The result is a moist, delicious chicken with beautiful golden, crispy skin. Since the legs and wings weren't tied or tucked, I was afraid that they'd be dry and overcooked, but surprisingly, they weren't. The gravy, which was still thinner than I would have liked, was flavorful (although I agree with Teena that it was a bit salty.

The Book calls this "the most succulent and simplest roast chicken." While it is simple and succulent, I've got to admit that it's not the best roast chicken recipe I've made. That honor goes to Martha Stewart, for her "Potatoes that Taste Better than the Chicken" recipe. (Actually, the recipe is from Jean-Georges Vongerichten, but since he made it on Marth's show, she gets the credit for it.) What's so special about the Martha recipe is that the chicken cooks on top of the potatoes, and as the bird roasts, the potatoes soak up all of the pan juices. The result is a moist chicken with crispy skin, and potatoes that truly are better than the bird.

Date Cooked: October 4, 2008
Degree of Difficulty: Easy
Rating: B+


*The recipe isn't online.

37. Parmesan Chicken (p. 356)

A few weeks ago, my wife was craving "mustardy" chicken. I looked through The Book for a recipe that fit the bill, and came up empty. So, I modified the recipe for Pork Chops with Mustard Crumbs by cooking it with chicken breasts. I'm not sure how I missed this recipe in my search, but I'm glad I found it now.

The "Gourmet twist" in this recipe is the use of English muffin crumbs as the coating. This is one of those little tricks that seems odd at first, but in the finished dish, it makes perfect sense. The crumbs were crispy and moist at the same time, and they were a nice compliment to the mustard and cheese flavors.

The recipe is pretty easy. First you coat boneless, skinless chicken breasts with Dijon mustard, vinegar, salt and pepper. Then you dredge the chicken in the English muffin crumbs, patting them into the surface to make a nice crust. Finally, the chicken goes onto a parchment-lined baking sheet and bake. That's it. As you can see from this picture, I set up a little assembly line for the chicken, crumbs, and baking sheet. Aren't I efficient?



The Book says to bake for 15 to 20 minutes, but that's probably because the Gourmet test kitchen doesn't use the genetically-altered, giant chicken breasts that they sell at my local mega-mart. If I had it to do over again, I'd pound them out a little bit to make them flatter.

The flavor of this dish was great. The chicken was very moist with a nice crispy coating and a good parmesan-mustard flavor. It was nice an light. Nothing dramatic. Just really good, week-night chicken.

One last thing. If you make this recipe, you might not want to make more than you can eat at once. I was less than impressed with the leftovers. The crumb coating got a little soggy in the microwave. I suppose that I could have kept the crispiness if I reheated it in the oven. But who's got time for that?

Date Cooked: August 3, 2008
Degree of Difficulty: Medium
Rating: B+

33. Udon Noodle Salad with Grilled Chicken and Asian Dressing (p. 247)

This tasty noodle dish starts with the chicken. First, you marinate four skinless, boneless chicken breast halves in soy sauce, garlic, grated fresh ginger, and rice wine vinegar. I had to make the marinade twice, though, because I threw in the entire "1/3 cup plus 1 tablespoon" of the vinegar before I realized that I was only supposed to put one tablespoon into the marinade. For a second, I thought about leaving it, but I was a little worried that I'd end up pickling the chicken (can you make chicken ceviche?). I figured that it would be better to do it over correctly, rather than risk it. After marinating for about an hour in the fridge, the chicken breasts go onto the grill. After that, you let them cool a bit, slice them into strips and set them aside for the final dish.

Then there were the noodles. The Book calls for 3/4 pound dried udon. I'd never heard of such a thing. I've only seen udon in shrink-wrapped shelf-stable packages like those pictured here. I suppose I could have found them at an Asian specialty market, but I decided to go with what was available at the mega-mart. The result was good, but as I'll explain later, I think that I needed more noodles. (I should have figured that dried udon weighs less than the "fresh" noodles that I got.)

The dressing consists of chicken stock (my own homemade stock from my freezer! hooray for me!) simmered together with an obscene amount of cilantro and parsley. This is transfered into the blender to be pureed until smooth. Now, I've heard all of the warnings about putting hot things in a blender. I read and followed The Book's instructions on the topic on page 97. But, nevertheless, once I flipped the switch on my Oster-izer, a geyser of hot, green soupy liquid shot into the air and sprayed all over my counter and cabinets. It didn't look as bad as this ...

... but it was shocking just the same, and a pain in the butt to clean up.

The Book says to "Toss noodles with dressing in a large bowl." At this point, I knew I had done something wrong. I had so much dressing and so little noodles, that it was more like broth than dressing. I really needed about twice as much noodles, but, oh well, I'm learning as I go, here.

The finished dish was really good. The huge amounts of cilantro and parsley gave the noodles a very fresh, almost grassy taste (I mean that in a good way). It was vinegary, but not too, vinegary. The chicken was very moist and tender with a very mild and enjoyable soy, ginger flavor.

Date Cooked: July 27, 2008
Degree of Difficulty: Medium
Rating: B

18. "La Brea Tar Pit" Chicken Wings (p. 55)

When I decided to do a cook-through project, I considered a few different books for the project. I chose The Gourmet Cookbook in part because there were already three other people working on The Project, and I could learn from their mistakes benefit from their accumulated wisdom. If I had only checked Kevin's blog before making these wings, I would have known what I was getting myself into and I could have planned ahead to deal with the temperature and cooking time (I know, cooking time again!) problems in this recipe. But instead, I winged it. Get it? Winged it? OK, you can stop groaning now.


The title of this recipe conjures visions of chicken wings smothered in a thick, sticky, rich sauce. That's exactly what these wings are. However, the name of the recipe is not a description of the wings, it's a warning about what your roasting pan will look like after you're done cooking. That's right, the burnt, crusty, inky surface of the La Brea Tar Pits in Los Angeles (see photo at left) is an apt analogy for what you, and your scrubber sponge, will face when the wings come out of the oven (see photo below).

Now, don't get me wrong, these were the best chicken wings I've ever had, and I'm already thinking of making them again soon (knowing now what I wish I'd known then). The preparation is very easy. Heat up some soy sauce, sugar, red wine and a little ginger on the stovetop. Pour it over the wings and pop them in the oven. That's where it gets complicated. The Book says to cook the wings at 400 degrees for 45 minutes, turn them over and cook for another hour to hour and 10 minutes. That's a total of 115 minutes! Now, cooking times in wing recipes are all over the board. This recipe from Southern Living calls for a total of 30 minutes of cooking time. Alton Brown, who knows a thing or two about cooking times, cooks his wings for 40 minutes (he steams them for 10 minutes first). Martha Stewart's wings cook for 25 minutes (under a broiler). Emril's wings are cooked for 80 minutes. But, The Book's 115 minutes is by far the longest.

After the first 45 minutes, I turned the wings, set the timer for another 60 minutes and went upstairs to get ready for our family's Fourth of July cookout. After about ten minutes, the sauce turned pitch black and started to smoke. My wife was afraid that the house would burn down, or worse, that the wings would be ruined, so she took them out of the oven. And not a moment too soon! The sauce in the bottom of the pan was a burned, ashen mess, but the wings were perfectly cooked.

The next time I make these wings, I'll try the cooking instructions from the creator of the recipe, Metta Miller of Boston, as told in the comments on epicurious.com (hat tip to Kevin for pointing me to Metta's comments):

If you follow my original instructions (Gourmet altered the recipe) they will be delicious every time .... To the salt sensitive: Use low-sodium soy sauce. To those concerned about burnt pans/sauce: Bake at 375 degrees for 45 minutes; turn and check after another 30-45 minutes. I've been making these wings this way for years and haven't ended up with a single ruined pan — or a single complaint — yet. Good luck!

One last note. When I first looked at this recipe, four pounds of chicken wings and a yield of 48 pieces seemed like an awful lot of wings for a smallish family cookout. So, I made two pounds of wings. Big mistake. The wings were gobbled up in a couple of minutes, and everyone was left licking their fingers and asking for more. Next time, I'll make the full four pounds of this crowd-pleasing recipe.

Date Cooked: July 4, 2008
Degree of Difficulty: Medium (due to scrubbing)
Rating: A (despite the recipe flaws)

4. Pork Chops (and Chicken Breasts) with Mustard Crumbs (p. 482)

I'm not sure how she did it. There are more than 1,000 recipes in The Book, but when I asked my wife what she wanted for dinner last night, she managed to come up with the two dishes that The Book has no recipe for.

"I'm in the mood for mustardy chicken and minty potatoes." (Give her a break, she's pregnant. Specific and peculiar food cravings come with the territory.)

I couldn't believe it. Not a single recipe with chicken and mustard. Nothing with potatoes and mint either. So we settled on chicken breasts cooked using the recipe for Pork Chops with Mustard Crumbs, and this recipe for Herbed Potato Salad from Cooking Light (I substituted mint for the dill and parsley in the CL recipe).

Now's as good a time as any to mention a special challenge facing me as I work on this project. My wife doesn't eat beef, pork or lamb. Not ever. With the exception of a cheesesteak at Pat's King of Steaks in Philly, occasional inadvertent bacon consumption in restaurants, and possible pork consumption during a dim sum outing in Boston's Chinatown, my wife hasn't eaten animal flesh other than poultry and fish since she was a teenager.

So, as I go through the project, I'll sometimes make substitutions in the meat dishes where appropriate. In other cases, I'll have to find carnivorous friends to share some of the dishes with. (You can't exactly make Chicken Wellington, can you?).

For this recipe, I decided to try it with both chicken and pork. Of course, the chicken and pork had to be segregated during cooking (note the aluminum foil DMZ in the photo to the left).

This was a great recipe. It was not too difficult. The Book calls for the chops to be seared on the stovetop, with the cooking finished in the oven. It is an extra step, and extra pans, but it's worth the extra effort.

The mustardy, crumby crust was excellent. I had some misgivings at the outset, however, because my local supermarket bakery department didn't have any fresh-baked rye bread, and so I had to use mass-produced, packaged sliced rye bread. I used Beefsteak brand rye, and I was pleasantly surprised that it produced nice flavorful, chunchy breadcrumbs once they were toasted on the stovetop with the oil, garlic and sage.

The pork was excellent. It was cooked perfectly (it tasted more like veal than pork, it was so good). And the mustard crust was a really nice flavor to accompany it. The chicken breasts worked well with this recipe too. They were very moist, even though I cooked the heck out of them. My wife and I are paranoid about undercooked chicken, and because I don't have a good instant-read thermometer, I usually err on the side of overcooking. This dish satisfied my wife's "mustardy chicken" craving (she even said that it was better than one of our favorite "everyday" restaurant dishes, Not Your Average Joe's Mustard Crusted Chicken), so, I'd say that it was a great success.


Date Cooked: June 19, 2008
Degree of Difficulty: Medium
Rating: A