Yet another one from Sophie's place, I'm afraid. Usual attributes: quick and easy, not particularly photogenic, and this time I'll tell you how a salad should be made.
First of all, get some chicken. Leg + thigh. As many as you think you'll need, plus extra if you have adolescent boys. This is the easy part. Put them, skin side down, into whatever you have that'll hold them and go into your oven, then actually put them into your oven. for about twenty minutes. (Did I mention that you need to turn the oven on? To "HOT"? No, thought not. Do it, otherwise the results will be, inevitably, disappointing.)
The chicken skin is now crisping, and it's time to take a small bowl down from wherever you keep such things and stick into it about a tablespoon (or two) of honey, ditto wholegrain mustard. Mix them. (Quantities may vary. How many adolescent boys do you have?)
At the end of the twenty minutes or so, pull the chicken legs out of the oven and turn them over so that the (hopefully) crispy skin is on top. Use your trusty couteau d'office to slash it a bit, then spread with half the honey/mustard mix from the bowl (see above). Back in the oven again, lower the heat a bit, get a drink.
Check from time to time that the honey mixture isn't burning onto the bottom of the baking dish: add water if necessary. Unless you really like cleaning your baking dishes with a jackhammer.
It should take you about 20 minutes to finish the bottle, which is good because that's when you'll need to operate on the chicken again. Luckily it's not too complicated: pour over the juice of an orange, slather with the rest of the honey/mustard mix (no, I hadn't forgotten it), and put it back into the oven for yet another 20 minutes.
Once again, you will have to watch it to make sure it doesn't burn, add more water (or orange juice) if it looks like getting uppity.
You now have all this time to drink and get the salad ready (for once). Luckily enough, the recipe for the dressing isn't that far off what went onto the chicken, so you should be able to keep it in mind.
Take a tablespoon of honey and another of wholegrain mustard (see?) and put them in a salad bowl. Mix well. Now, go into the darker recesses of the pantry and find the bottle of vinaigre au piment, which is nowt more than cider vinegar into which you've stuck a tablespoon or two of piments d'oiseau (bird peppers? I can't believe that) or any other small, really hot pepper, and left to marinate for a month or so in the dark.
Whatever, whether you've bought it or made it (Sophie bought me a bottle on a trip down to the Languedoc, but I've used it all and thus had to make my own), add a tablespoon to the honey and mustard and mix it some more. (But if you don't have any, just use cider vinegar. Then make some. The peppery kick is worth it.)
Now take a neutral oil like sunflower and start adding it - slowly - whilst whipping hell out of it. You should be able to add quite a bit: honey is a great emulsifier. When it goes thick and starts to turn whiteish, you're right. Just one thing: don't use olive oil. It'd be a waste. You just won't taste it, so why bother?
We call this Magali-dressing, after the friend who first introduced us to it. Mind you, she also puts pine-nuts into it, which is something I'd pass on, personally. But then again, I add chives, so who am I to criticize?
Check on the chicken again, add more water or orange juice.
Now get out the lettuce that you plucked from the garden (or bought at the market, wherever) but please don't let it be a batavia or yer bog-standard laitue. These are lettuce that are floppy and have neither flavour, crispness nor self-respect. A feuille-de-chêne (oak-leaf?) is good, a rougette (no idea) is even better.
Tear the leaves into bite-sized bits (whilst cursing the old ladies at the market with their frikkin' shopping trolleys with knives on the wheels that always take half your ankles off when they run into you, as they always will - who knew cooking was so good for anger-management?) and fling them onto the dressing. Toss - or turn, whatever - just make sure that it's all nicely coated in sauce. Add whatever else you want, but I'd keep it simple. Although a tablespoon or two of sour cream in the dressing and a quarter-cup of sweetcorn kernels make a nice addition from time to time.
You are now clear to eat. The salad is ready, the chicken bits should be cooked through and caramelised on top with a sort of orange caramel sauce around, what more could you want? Ah yes, you did remember to buy some bread? You'll need it, for the sauce.
This is France, after all.
Showing posts with label menu. Show all posts
Showing posts with label menu. Show all posts
Thursday, 28 May 2009
Monday, 25 May 2009
Quick & cold Oriental-style meal
A heat wave hit the Alps, with the effect that I literally can't take the heat in the kitchen. Yesterday we had a BBQ, so technically I was away from the cooker. A few left over porkchops gave me the idea for tonight's dinner. These are quick adaptations of recipes from different Asian countries for when you have leftovers & don't feel like cooking ( or have friends show up unannounced-a frequent situation chez nous).
The porkchops were marinated in an Oriental type sauce, then expertly BBQd by hubby (he has his culinary contributions, greatly encouraged & appreciated!). The marinade is simple: soy sauce, sesame oil, rice vinegar, rice wine, sugar, tamarind (optional-can't always find it).
Thai style cold satay noodles
7 oz wide rice noodles
chives or green onions
fresh coriander
sesame seeds or peanuts
lime or lemon slices
Satay sauce: cocunut milk, peanut paste, sesame paste (tahini), soy sauce, vinegar & sugar
Put water to boil & prepre ingredients for all the salads. All the sauces can be made ahead of time & stored in the refrigerator.
Cook noodles, rincse, drain, sprinkle with oil & set aside to cool.
Add satay & garnish.
Refrigerate until ready to serve.
Cold pork salad with bamboo shoots
3 leftover chops
1 cup bamboo shoots
3 red chilis
fresh mint
fresh chives
Sauce: rice vinegar, soy sauce, sugar
Debone pork. Slice as thinly as possible. Add other ingredients. Mix together. Refrigerate until ready to serve.
Mushrooms & waterchestnuts (hot or cold)
2 oz dried mushrooms (any kind)
2 oz waterchestnuts
1 carrot
chives
Same sauce as above.
Bring water to boil. Place mushrooms in a bowl, cover with boiling water. Cover & let sit.
When mushrooms absorb water (about 20 min), let cool.
Add sliced waterchestnuts.
Peel carrot and shave onto mushrooms.
Add other ingredients.
Put aside until ready to eat.
Cucumber salad
Slice cucumber thinly. Sprinkle on the same sauce. Add sesame seeds & thin slivers of ginger. Refrigerate until ready to serve.
Monday, 18 May 2009
A Light Saturday Lunch, redux ... scallops
Another one from Sophie's kitchen: quick, easy, delicious and, in this case, probably aphrodisiac as well, which definitely pushes all my buttons.
Just in case you're wondering, on Saturday mornings I head off to the market in Chambéry to pick up a week's supply of freshly-killed fruit and vegetables, and once the poor Alfa is groaning under the weight of all that plus the grocery shopping (do you know just how many packets of chocolate cereal a 14-year old goes through every week?) I stop off on the way home for lunch with Sophie. Who is a good friend - for the past 20 years or so - and my business partner's recently ex-wife. Which I suppose could make life complicated. I try not to think about that.
Whatever, after 15 or so years of Saturday lunches there, I occasionally try to push the karmic balance (or whatever) back in my favour by making lunch for the two of us, and as I don't always have that much time they tend to be simple, and this is one of them.
I did it a couple of months back, when coquilles St-Jacques were in season and even semi-affordable: on the other hand, given that they're about 20€/kg and for two of you 300gm is plenty, it's not really going to break the bank. Come to that, you can even use frozen scallops if that's what you've got. I've done it, and I'm still alive to tell the tale.
On the other hand, when I picked up these particular scallops from Carrefour*, someone very nearly did not get away alive, because the woman just ahead of me in the queue was asking loudly for scallops WITHOUT CORAL! I mean, how insane is that? You want to eat shellfish without their sex organs? Really odd. I thought vaguely of asking for my scallops with all the coral she didn't want thrown in for free, but realised that this was unlikely to come true so I just wandered off with my big packet of squishy molluscs under my arm and reflected on human frailty. And wondered what a Dalek would do in my place, but the answer to that one is pretty unspeakable.
Anyway, once you've arrived back with your bag of gastropods - or whatever they are, technically speaking - the fun begins. Carefully cut the coral off and put it aside - in the cat's bowl, for example. (No, don't do that. Not a good idea.) If your scallops are nice big ones, cut them in half - against the grain, you idiot - you should have disks about 1cm thick. Now take out your trusty frying pan and put it on to heat.
When it's nice and hot, add a good knob of butter (yeah, salted, not the devil's-spawn stuff) and when it's sizzling, stick in the scallops. After about a minute, turn them over, retrieve the coral from the cat's bowl and add that too. Then, after 30 seconds or so, add a half shot-glass of whisky and flambé the suckers. (This is optional, but I find it adds a smoky-sweet flavour which I personally rather like. Your call.) When the flames have subsided and you've convinced the fire brigade that it was a false alarm (you have to be quick, you do not want to overcook them or you will regret it, they should have started to turn opaque), slide everything into a bowl and go off and open the bottle of white.
A chardonnay is nice, muscat sec - if you can find it - is even better. So have a drink. Leave some, at least a large glass, you'll need it later. You may not be that hungry yet, in any case things can wait now, whilst you get the salad and the rice ready.
Don't rinse out the frying pan - we're not yet done with it.
I like Chinese-style steamed rice, which basically involves sticking about 120gm (for the two of you) rice into a saucepan and rinsing it repeatedly to get rid of the starch on the grains. Once that's done, add water until there's about an inch of water above the rice, and boil hell out of it. At some point you'll start to get great pits opening up in the rice - like volcanoes, or acne: turn the heat down low, stick a sheet of tinfoil over the top of the saucepan and fold it down around the edges, and put the lid on. In twenty minutes, you will have nice rice. Have another drink while you're waiting.
Oh, and make the salad. Or get your lunch date to do it. Whichever, I'll leave that to your discretion.
When the rice is done, it's time to finish the scallops. Put the frying pan back on really hot and stick the leftover glass of wine in: you may need to open another bottle for this. When it's reduced by half, add all the liquid from the scallops - there will be quite a bit - and reduce some more. Then - the good part - turn the heat down low, add some chives and garlic, and a good quarter-cup of sour cream. Let that reduce too. You probably do not want to let it boil at this point, or you will have a curdled mess which is pretty unappetising. If this happens, order in a pizza. And chuck away the rice.
(Since I discovered l'ail lyophilisé, I use that all the time. It saves a lot of bother. But you can always finely chop a few cloves of garlic and then crush them with the flat of your knife; it does as good a job as a garlic press and there's less washing-up - and a garlic press is a bitch to clean. Whatever.)
When the sauce has thickened, fling the scallops and coral back in there just to reheat for a minute (that's about 60 seconds, if you were wondering). Serve it right now, with the rice, bread (of course) and the salad - which you were supposed to make while the rice was cooking.
(No photos - again - sorry. Didn't have my camera with me that time either. Piss-poor effort, I know. Try to do better next time.)
*Big supermarket chain in France
Just in case you're wondering, on Saturday mornings I head off to the market in Chambéry to pick up a week's supply of freshly-killed fruit and vegetables, and once the poor Alfa is groaning under the weight of all that plus the grocery shopping (do you know just how many packets of chocolate cereal a 14-year old goes through every week?) I stop off on the way home for lunch with Sophie. Who is a good friend - for the past 20 years or so - and my business partner's recently ex-wife. Which I suppose could make life complicated. I try not to think about that.
Whatever, after 15 or so years of Saturday lunches there, I occasionally try to push the karmic balance (or whatever) back in my favour by making lunch for the two of us, and as I don't always have that much time they tend to be simple, and this is one of them.
I did it a couple of months back, when coquilles St-Jacques were in season and even semi-affordable: on the other hand, given that they're about 20€/kg and for two of you 300gm is plenty, it's not really going to break the bank. Come to that, you can even use frozen scallops if that's what you've got. I've done it, and I'm still alive to tell the tale.
On the other hand, when I picked up these particular scallops from Carrefour*, someone very nearly did not get away alive, because the woman just ahead of me in the queue was asking loudly for scallops WITHOUT CORAL! I mean, how insane is that? You want to eat shellfish without their sex organs? Really odd. I thought vaguely of asking for my scallops with all the coral she didn't want thrown in for free, but realised that this was unlikely to come true so I just wandered off with my big packet of squishy molluscs under my arm and reflected on human frailty. And wondered what a Dalek would do in my place, but the answer to that one is pretty unspeakable.
Anyway, once you've arrived back with your bag of gastropods - or whatever they are, technically speaking - the fun begins. Carefully cut the coral off and put it aside - in the cat's bowl, for example. (No, don't do that. Not a good idea.) If your scallops are nice big ones, cut them in half - against the grain, you idiot - you should have disks about 1cm thick. Now take out your trusty frying pan and put it on to heat.
When it's nice and hot, add a good knob of butter (yeah, salted, not the devil's-spawn stuff) and when it's sizzling, stick in the scallops. After about a minute, turn them over, retrieve the coral from the cat's bowl and add that too. Then, after 30 seconds or so, add a half shot-glass of whisky and flambé the suckers. (This is optional, but I find it adds a smoky-sweet flavour which I personally rather like. Your call.) When the flames have subsided and you've convinced the fire brigade that it was a false alarm (you have to be quick, you do not want to overcook them or you will regret it, they should have started to turn opaque), slide everything into a bowl and go off and open the bottle of white.
A chardonnay is nice, muscat sec - if you can find it - is even better. So have a drink. Leave some, at least a large glass, you'll need it later. You may not be that hungry yet, in any case things can wait now, whilst you get the salad and the rice ready.
Don't rinse out the frying pan - we're not yet done with it.
I like Chinese-style steamed rice, which basically involves sticking about 120gm (for the two of you) rice into a saucepan and rinsing it repeatedly to get rid of the starch on the grains. Once that's done, add water until there's about an inch of water above the rice, and boil hell out of it. At some point you'll start to get great pits opening up in the rice - like volcanoes, or acne: turn the heat down low, stick a sheet of tinfoil over the top of the saucepan and fold it down around the edges, and put the lid on. In twenty minutes, you will have nice rice. Have another drink while you're waiting.
Oh, and make the salad. Or get your lunch date to do it. Whichever, I'll leave that to your discretion.
When the rice is done, it's time to finish the scallops. Put the frying pan back on really hot and stick the leftover glass of wine in: you may need to open another bottle for this. When it's reduced by half, add all the liquid from the scallops - there will be quite a bit - and reduce some more. Then - the good part - turn the heat down low, add some chives and garlic, and a good quarter-cup of sour cream. Let that reduce too. You probably do not want to let it boil at this point, or you will have a curdled mess which is pretty unappetising. If this happens, order in a pizza. And chuck away the rice.
(Since I discovered l'ail lyophilisé, I use that all the time. It saves a lot of bother. But you can always finely chop a few cloves of garlic and then crush them with the flat of your knife; it does as good a job as a garlic press and there's less washing-up - and a garlic press is a bitch to clean. Whatever.)
When the sauce has thickened, fling the scallops and coral back in there just to reheat for a minute (that's about 60 seconds, if you were wondering). Serve it right now, with the rice, bread (of course) and the salad - which you were supposed to make while the rice was cooking.
(No photos - again - sorry. Didn't have my camera with me that time either. Piss-poor effort, I know. Try to do better next time.)
*Big supermarket chain in France
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