Plum Delicious

I just got my shipment of small-batch Stuck-Up Jams, which are AWESOME and made by my chef cousin, Klee. There are just a few jars left on Etsy, which would make great hostess gifts for the holidays. My very favorite is the tart Santa Rosa Red Plum jam, which I like to spread on whole grain toast with butter and a sprinkling of salt.

For apricot jam lovers, the Apricot Clove is divine. Tonight I’m riffing off an old technique that my butcher taught me when I lived in Paris in my early 20s. I used to mix marmalade with a dollop of spicy dijon mustard, and spread over a small roasting chicken. I’m thinking the apricot clove will be a delicious stand-in for the marmalade. Chef Klee says he also uses the tart plum jam for a glaze on duck or pork, which sounds like a perfect plan for dinner tomorrow night.

 

Lemon-Roasted Chicken with Fava Beans, Radishes and Pecorino

On Saturday night I tried a great roast chicken recipe, and was reminded that fava beans are a royal pain in the neck. I mean, seriously: shell, blanch, drain, ice, drain, shell again. Talk about high maintenance. But even so, fava beans are worth it. Almost. I used this excellent recipe for Fava Beans, Radishes and Pecorino from chef Ryan Hardy of the Little Nell in Aspen, Co., as inspiration, though my proportions were wildly different based on the fact that I ended up with a fraction of the favas I thought my haul would yield. That is soooo fava. To make salad, just tear up some mint, Italian parsely, celery leaves and toss herbs and shelled/blanched/drained/iced/drained/shelled fava beans with some arugula, sliced radishes, grated pecorino, and drizzle with a little lemon juice and olive oil.

Hardy’s method for the accompanying lemon-roasted chicken is fabulous, and while I wouldn’t roast a chicken this way every time, I’ll certainly be adding this citrusy bird into rotation—particularly during springtime. For this juicy and zesty version, stuff lemon slices between the skin and the breast. Then, after seasoning cavity with some salt + pepper, place a chopped lemon, some fresh rosemary and oregano in the cavity of the bird.

The bird then gets brushed with olive oil, sprinkled with a little more s&p, and then put into a 400-degree oven to roast for about 55 minutes, or until skin is crispy. We all loved this bird, and will be inviting it back to the table very soon. Favas? Perhaps next year, after I will have once more forgotten how much work they are.

Braised Shallots

With temperatures in the high 70s this week in Los Angeles, it feels a little silly to be talking about braising. But since it’s sub-freezing in New York, I’m going to look at the larger meteorological picture and share this sublime recipe for braising shallots in red wine. I can think of many ways to serve these—with cote du boeuf, bruschetta with burrata, lamb shanks, duck or stew—but perhaps they are best enjoyed alongside that ultimate comfort food: roast chicken. You won’t believe how tender and flavorful these are. I’m thinking these are a relatively pious (and easy) re-entry into weeknight cooking after the past fortnight of decadence.

Braised Shallot Confit

Adapted from Molly Stevens’ All About Braising

Serves 4

Note: Stevens recommends looking for shallots that are all the same size so that they’ll braise evenly.

3/4 pound shallots

1 1/2 tablespoons unsalted butter

Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper

2 tablespoons Cognac

1/2 cup dry red wine, or more

1 1/2 teaspoons chopped fresh thyme

Peel shallots, trimming off any bits of root end that remain. Divide any larger shallots in two. Melt butter in medium skillet over medium-high heat. Add shallots, season with salt and pepper, and toss to coat. Sauté, tossing frequently until shallots are brown in spots, about 5 minutes. Add Cognac. If you’re cooking over gas, carefully tilt pan and let flame ignite Cognac. Stand back as flame flares up, then swirl pan around and let flame burn down. (Foodinista note: flame barely caught and frankly, I just didn’t want to mess around with it so I forewent this touch of drama.) Simmer until there is only a glaze left in bottom of pan.

Add wine and 1 teaspoon of thyme and bring to simmer, then reduce heat to medium-low and cover the pan. Simmer until the shallots are completely soft and falling apart, 40-45 minutes. After first 15 minutes, check to make sure that the pan is not dry, and add a few tablespoons of water if necessary. Check again 2 or 3 times as shallots braise. (Foodinista’s note: mine were drying out so I added more wine.)

When shallots are done, remove lid and over medium heat boil down any liquid, shaking and stirring a few times, until a glaze forms on the shallots. Add remaining 1/2 teaspoon thyme, gently stir (expect shallots to fall apart some) and season with salt/pepper.

First Tomato of Summer!

Here is the first of our ‘Big Zebra’ tomatoes in the garden. There are several more nearing imperfect perfection, as well as some ‘Black Cherry’ tomatoes. But for this big beauty, we simply cracked a little salt and pepper, some chopped purple basil from the garden, and drizzled just a splash of aged balsamic. And then enjoyed alongside a roasted chicken dipped in a little dijon. Summer simplicity at its best.

Perfect Roast Chicken

A couple weeks ago my friend Hugh blogged about Mary’s Free-Range California Bronze Heritage Chickens on GastroKid. They are, as Hugh says, “the best danged whole chicken you can buy in a supermarket.” They’re available at Whole Foods, and the fantastic news is that they’ve lowered their prices yet again to $2.69/lb! (Not so long ago, they fetched double the price and were worth it then.)

For the past few years I’ve been roasting chickens à la Zuni Café, which involves salting the hell out of them and letting them sit under plastic wrap in the fridge for 24-48 hours before roasting at high heat. It’s a great go-to method, and produces deliciously crispy skin.

But last night I discovered an even better method. I have to attribute the ridiculous success of this chicken as much to the simplicity of technique from—who else?—Thomas Keller, as to the bird itself. Keller has famously said that his last meal would be a roast chicken, and his Bouchon cookbook features a somewhat involved version that requires a six-hour brine, but epicurious.com has Keller’s abbreviated method that requires nothing but a lot of salt, a little pepper and a bit of fresh thyme and twine. 

Crank up the oven to 450 degrees. Rinse the bird and thoroughly pat dry inside and out. Salt and pepper the inside, and then truss the bird with kitchen twine. Then sprinkle a generous amount of salt over the bird and a few twists of pepper. No butter. No herbs. Just salt and pepper. 

Roast the chicken without basting for 50-60 minutes, until the oven gets kinda smoky and the skin is golden brown and crispy. Remove from oven (careful of spattering hot fat) and add chopped fresh thyme to the pan, then baste with all those lovely fatty, thyme-scented juices. Let rest on a cutting board for 15 minutes, and then slather with a pat of good butter and serve with a healthy dollop of spicy dijon mustard. The flavor of this bird was mind-blowing—my husband swore, and then asked if we could roast a chicken every week (note: we do). But I know what he means. It was like tasting something new and intoxicating for the very first time. It was that good.