Category: Poultry

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Poultry The Book

64. Coq au Vin p.368

No recipe for this one.

Coq au Vin is such a classic it’s practically drowning in preconception and expectation. This recipe doesn’t throw any wild experiments or out of the play book ingredients in, but it tries to simplify the process a bit too much. The biggest twist in this recipe is that it calls for white instead of red wine. It also doesn’t call for much of it. Most recipes seem to call for about a bottle of wine, this one asks for only 1 1/2 cups. The traditional method usually involves soaking the chicken in wine with a bouquet garni overnight, or for a couple of days. Sometimes the giblets are used to flavour the sauce as well. This version skips all that and just browns the chicken in bacon fat, then braises it in a wine and stock mixture with a bouquet garni, bacon, and onions. Sautéed mushrooms with cognac are stirred in near the end, and then the sauce is thickened with a beurre manié.

The result is pretty good, but the extra little touches in the more traditional versions do make a difference. I prefer the taste of red to white wine, and I definitely missed it here. The Book suggests using white because the final dish will look nicer, but even there I disagree. Yes, the purple tinge red wine gives the chicken is a bit weird, but this white wine version was an unrelieved beige. I can’t necessarily say that it looked any better. As a concession to ease of finding ingredients the recipe calls for a standard supermarket chicken. The traditional version is made with a stewing hen, which is an egg laying hen that’s grown too old to keep around the farm. These birds are tough, but loaded with flavour, i.e. the perfect subject for a long slow tenderizing braise. I bought a good quality chicken, but there’s no way it can compare in flavour. Admittedly tracking down a real stewing hen would be a major pain, and if the recipe had called for one I probably would have complained about that instead.

Coq au Vin in an international success because the flavours in the dish work so well together, chicken, wine, bacon, mushroom, onions, and the oh so French bouquet garni (celery, thyme, parsley, bay leaf). This version didn’t do everything that could be done with those flavours, but it only took 2 hours to prepare. If you’ve got the time or the inclination seek out a battle hardened old chicken, and the forethought to give the bird a wine bath the day before you’ll be rewarded with a better dish than this one. However, this version is easy enough to do as a Tuesday night supper, and tasty enough to serve at your next dinner party.

Categories
Poultry The Book

52. Corriander and Mustard Seed Chicken p.367

the recipe

I made this dish for friends in Brooklyn. I chose it because it looked simple, and didn’t seem to call for any hard to find ingredients, so I was fairly confident I could make it in an unfamiliar kitchen. Unfortunately I struck out looking for whole mustard and coriander seeds at the mega mart. I’m sure I was within a six block radius of some really great food shops, but I had no clue where they were. If I’d thought ahead I would have picked things up at Zabar’s that morning, but I didn’t so I had to make do with powdered mustard, and ground coriander. That meant that amounts I used were guesswork, and the texture of the sauce was quite different from the intended result. Powdered mustard can’t hold a candle to the flavour of whole mustard seed either.

In this dish the chicken legs are browned, and the sauce / poaching liquid of shallots, wine, water, and the seeds is built in the pan. The chicken is added back in and cooked through, then apple jelly and fresh cilantro are whisked into the sauce. The jelly did a good job of balancing the bitter / sour flavours of the mustard and coriander, but the sauce could have been thickened or reduced before serving.

My main issue with the recipe was the chicken skin. The legs are well browned and the skin contributes flavour, but then they’re poached and the lovely crispy skin gets water logged and washed out. I didn’t find the skin very appealing in the final dish, and I think if I were to make it again I’d remove the skin before browning. If the final texture of the skin is unappetizing, and all it’s doing is adding fat to the dish, why not remove it?

Overall, it was simple to prepare, and relied on easy to find ingredients and pantry staples (despite my particular issues). The flavours in the sauce worked really well together, and they penetrated the chicken during the poaching. Using skinless legs, and thickening the sauce would have made a world of difference. Using whole seeds instead of ground would have been even better. In the end it was good but not spectacular, some of that was my fault, and some of it was The Book’s.

Categories
Poultry The Book

43. Rabbit With Mustard Sauce p.408

The recipe is very similar to this Epicurious version. Except that both Dijon and Whole grain mustard are used, and 2/3 cups shallots are browned in the pan before deglazing the fond.

Rabbit with… wait for it…. wait for it…. mustard sauce! yawn. It’s good, don’t get me wrong. But it seems like people hardly eat rabbit at all, and most of them will never have tasted it without a mustard sauce. This recipe follows three or four variations each for squab, poussin, and quail. Beyond the question of why the lone rabbit recipe in the book is tacked on to the end of the poultry section, why did it only get one rendition? I know a lot of people are uncomfortable eating cute little bunny rabbits, but they’re delicious. Similarly the book is devoid of recipes for venison, wild boar, or horse, all of which are on the menus around Montreal. Horse is probably just a Quebec thing, and Canada is developing it’s culinary identity around a lot of game meats, but those ingredients are much more familiar to me than any of those little birds.

Anyway, the recipe itself was pretty good. It’s simple, and it’s a classic for a reason. I found a beautiful rabbit for this one, probably closer to 4 pounds than the recommended 3. I liked the textural addition of whole grain mustard as well. It’s a very simple and unpretentious dish. The rabbit is browned, the shallot – white wine – mustard sauce is brought together, and the rabbit goes back in to cook through. Afterwards the rabbit is removed, the sauce thickened, and some parsley is stirred in at the end.

I’ve complained many times about parsley, and all of my objections stand. Also, stirring parsley into hot dishes doesn’t do anything for it. It’s only use in my mind is for a bright green punch of colour, heating it so it turns limp and grey sort of defeats the purpose.

It’s not the recipes fault, but it felt like something was missing. That something is tarragon. My father often made rabbit with mustard sauce growing up, particularly while he was living in Belgium. His version always added tarragon to the mix, and it was absolutely delicious. Taragon and mustard are natural buddies, and mustard with rabbit is a classic. It’s such a natural fit, but a quick search for tarragon mustard sauce recipes didn’t turn much up. The anise flavour adds it’s own dimension, and compliments what’s already going on in this dish. I’d highly recommend trying it.

This dish tasted good, was easy to prepare, and at least rabbit made the book in some fashion. It wasn’t inspired, but it was a solid basic. If you’re unfamiliar with rabbit this is a great introduction.

Categories
Poultry The Book

7. Colombian Chicken, Corn, and Potato Stew p. 370

the recipe

This is a stew is thick and rich. I made it in the middle of July. What was I thinking? It may have gone something like:

me: I feel like chicken.
ME: But it’s hot out, and your apartment is already 35 degrees.
me: Don’t people in hot countries eat chicken?
ME: You’re right, it’s hot in Columbia… make this stew.
me: Stew? it’s hot I don’t want stew!
ME: What do you know about hot weather eating? If it’s good enough for Columbians it’s good enough for you.
me: OK, let’s do it.

By the time I finished cooking my apartment was up to about 40 degrees, and I was ready to pass out. I ate a few obligatory spoonfuls and decided that the rest should be frozen ’till the fall. Unfortunately I didn’t retrieve it ’till a couple of weeks ago, and the freezer burn didn’t do anything to improve it.

Despite my foolish timing for this dish, it was actually fairly good. It had great chicken flavour, and grating half the potatoes left the sauce nicely thickened with some potato chunks to bite into. The stew itself is bland, so I’d top it with a healthy dose of the capers and cilantro. The flavour in the stew mostly comes from the chicken, so don’t skimp on browning it.