WELL FED

ROAST CHICKEN WITH MEYER LEMON & ROASTED SHALLOT GRAVY

Mark was gone.  Visiting his mother.  I opted not to go.  Since we moved in together, sometimes I like to take opportunities to be by myself since those opportunities tend to be rare.  I mean, I am an only child.  Although soon after he left, I felt aimless and bored and couldn't wait for him to get back.  When mealtimes came, the idea of cooking for one person felt like an ordeal.  The first night I just grazed in the refrigerator on a hodgepodge of foods and flavors that didn't really go together.  It somehow seemed sadder than making a meal for one.  The next day I decided that even though it was just me, I was going to make a proper dinner.

Sunday morning I went to the Melrose Place Farmers' Market, and perused the stands.  I picked up a bundle of fresh thyme, a pound of fat little shallots, a bag of pink potatoes and a handful of Meyer lemons.  I must confess that I wasn't exactly just spotting beautiful, seasonal ingredients and suddenly making up a recipe in my head of how they'd deliciously fit together.  I actually had a dish in mind, one that I'd seen in an issue of Sunset magazine a year ago while sitting in the waiting room of my dermatologist, Dr. Van Dyke.  I'm not quite at that level yet.  Hopefully one day.

Later that afternoon, I got busy prepping my roast chicken for one.  Just because one is dining alone, doesn't mean one can't be civilized.  No more refrigerator grazing.

INGREDIENTS

1 4-to-5 pound organic chicken

1 1/2 tablespoons kosher salt

freshly ground black pepper

zest of 2 Meyer lemons

juice of 1/2 of one of the lemons

the remaining 1 1/2 lemons quartered

1 tablespoon fresh thyme, chopped plus 4 whole sprigs

extra virgin olive oil

1 pound shallots, unpeeled

1 cup reduced-sodium chicken stock

1/3 cup dry white wine

METHOD

Rinse the chicken inside and out and then pat dry with paper towels.  Gently loosen the skin of the breast and the thighs and work some of the salt under the skin.  Rub the remaining salt all over the chicken and in the cavity.  Chill uncovered at least 3 hours or up to overnight.

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.  Remove chicken from refrigerator and let come to room temperature.

Pat the chicken dry inside and out.  Work half the zest under the skin covering the breast and thighs and then rub the rest all over the outside.  Then rub the skin with the chopped thyme and season with pepper.  Place the quartered lemons in the cavity along with the thyme sprigs.  Drizzle the chicken with olive oil, gently rub to completely coat.

Toss the unpeeled shallots in a heavy roasting pan and drizzle with a little more olive oil, tossing to coat.  Set a V-shaped baking rack in the pan and then place the chicken in the rack, breast side up.  If you'd like, you can truss the chicken, but I opted not to.  Slide the chicken in the oven and roast for 1 1/2 to 1 3/4 hours, basting with chicken stock, every 30 minutes (you should use about half the stock).

When the chicken is golden brown and the internal temperature reads between 160 and 170 degrees F, remove from the oven.  Using a pair of tongs, tip the chicken to let the juices run out into the roasting pan.  Remove the chicken from the pan, set on a plate, and cover loosely with a square of tin foil.

Using a slotted spoon, remove the roasted shallots and reserve in a bowl to let cool slightly.

Meanwhile pour the pan drippings into a measuring cup or fat separator.  Either spoon off or pour off all about about a tablespoon of fat.  Pour the drippings into a food processor or blender.

When the shallots are cool enough to handle, slice off the top and root end and then squeeze out the soft insides into the food processor or blender.  

Add the white wine, the remaining 1/2 cup of broth, and pulse until smooth.

Return the sauce to the roasting pan and cook, scrapping any brown bits, over medium-high heat until the sauce turns a nutty brown, about 10 minutes.  Stir in 1 tablespoon of the reserved Meyer lemon juice, or more to taste.  Taste and season with salt and pepper is need be.

If you like, you can pour the sauce through a fine-mesh strainer to make the sauce silky smooth.

Finally, carve the chicken, discarding the lemon wedges and thyme, and serve with a bowl of the sauce.  Don't forget to save and freeze the carcass to make chicken stock.  If you feel the skin on the wings and thighs are kind of pale and flabby from being roasted on the underside, just toss them onto a pan and stuck them under the broiler for about 2 minutes to crisp them up.  That's what I did.

 

My first observation about this recipe is that it dirties up kind of a lot of dishes, pots, pans and utensils.  Or maybe I'm just a messy cook.  Regardless, finally having a dishwasher and counter space makes me not care.  Plus the resulting chicken is that good, it'll make you not care about dirty dishes and I think this might be due to the salting.  I can't be positive, but I think it made the chicken really really juicy.  I've never made a chicken with such juicy white meat, and I've made a lot of really great chickens.  I think form now on, if I have the time, I'll be salting my chicken.  

Next observation - nestling the flavoring (in this case the Meyer lemon zest) under the skin, is a much more effective use of said flavoring.  I have done this before and really like the results.  It comes in direct contact with the meat and really has a chance to impart flavor.  You don't have to do it, but it's better if you do.  The zest really gives the meat a bright, fresh taste.  Very clean and slightly sweet and perfumey.

And then there's the roasted shallot gravy.  Roasting the shallots intensifies their flavor and brings out the sweetness, which is mirrored by the sweetness of the Meyer lemon juice.  Unlike some flour and butter based gravies that have a rich, heavy consistency, this one is nicely thick but still feels light and fresh.  As I mentioned before, you don't have to strain the sauce.  I did and it just made more things to clean, however, straining it makes the sauce more elegant, so if that's the tone you are going for then do it.  I almost think the next Thanksgiving turkey I make, I'm going to include a bunch of shallots in the roasting pan and use that as the basis for the gravy.

To go along with the chicken, I made another recipe from the Sunset magazine article about Meyer lemons - crispy olive oil slicked roasted potatoes that get tossed with parsley and more of the sweet Meyer lemon zest.  But really you could serve anything.  That's the great thing about roast chicken.  Versatility.

Serves 4 to 6

CORNMEAL-FRIED ONION RINGS

So I love how when January rolls around all the food magazines and cooking shows are all suddenly promoting "heathy eating."  This past Saturday, Food Network was devoted to it.  Both Anne Burrel and Tyler Florence made steamed fish tucked away in a cozy little pocket made of parchment paper (although at the end, Tyler still put about 4 tablespoons of a compound butter on his fish.  I'm kind of making fun of it, but I totally get it.  From Halloween through New Years Eve, it becomes two months of non-stop indulgence and I am no different.  I ate lots of chocolate, I couldn't GET enough bread, and my drinking was putting me on a fast track to needing a liver transplant.  Come New Years day I vowed to turn my life around.  However not even a week went by and I was soon heating up a dutch oven full of oil to deep fry myself some onion rings.

Listen you guys, I'm sort of obsessed with deep frying.  As I mentioned before, for New Years Eve I fried some olives that were stuffed with Italian sausage and coated in Panko.  And then a few nights later, I fried up some fontina stuffed risotto balls, also coated with Panko.  And on a recent episode of Jamie at Home, Jamie braised rabbit in white wine until it was almost but not quite falling apart and then fried it.  I so want to give that a try.  But I wasn't always like this.  In my old apartment I once tried to make fried chicken but in the end, the whole thing seemed like such an ordeal and it felt like the entire kitchen was slicked with grease that I had little to no interest in revisiting frying.

However, a while ago I was reading in one of my cookbooks (I can't remember which one, but it might have been either Sunday Suppers at Lucques or maybe The Zuni Cafe Cookbook) and the author was wistfully remembering back to one of his or her culinary influences.  This person apparently was fearless in the kitchen and an example of it was that she would fry things at the drop of a hat.  For some reason, that idea has stuck with me.  I liked the idea of that sort of spontaneity with out concern about cleanup.  I wanted to be like that.  After reading it I pictured casual gatherings of friends all hanging out drinking wine or beer and suddenly I'd call out, "Hey! Let's make some pomme frites!"  One friend would peel and slice potatoes.  I'd be manning the dutch oven full of oil, bringing it up to temperature, WITHOUT a thermometer (I'd just know when it was hot enough).  Another friend would be whipping up a bowl of aioli to dip the frittes in and yet another friend would be refilling all of our wine glasses.  Perhaps outside, someone else would be grilling up steaks using a stem of rosemary plucked from the garden to brush them with good olive oil.  I mean, doesn't that sound so fun?  Of course in my head, all of this took place in my rustic farmhouse surrounded my by own vineyard.

As romantic as the idea of careless spontaneity is, my frying obsession is also prompted a great deal by frugality.  I just hate to throw things away and I'd only fried a couple handfuls of olives in six cups of oil.  I wanted to get my money's worth out if it before I ditched it.  As long as you strain the oil through cheese cloth or paper towels to remove any particles, you can reuse the oil several times - just store the oil in a cool dark place.  After the olives and risotto balls I kept wondering, "What can I fry next?"  I looked around my kitchen and my eyes landed on a bowl of onions.  Bingo!

This recipe mostly comes from Ina Garten, but the seasoning of the flour and cornmeal mixture was inspired by some of the flavors I used when I made blackened catfish.

INGREDIENTS

1 large yellow or Spanish onion

1 1/2 cups buttermilk

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Tabasco (or other hot sauce) to taste, but at least a teaspoon

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1/4 cup (medium) yellow cornmeal

1/2 to 1 teaspoon cayenne pepper

1 tablespoon fresh thyme leaves, finely chopped

4 to 6 cups vegetable or peanut oil

METHOD

Slice off the top and root ends of the onion or onions and carefully peel off the brown skin, then slice into 1/2 to 3/4 inch thick slices and then separate them into rings.

In a large bowl, combine the buttermilk, 1 1/2 teaspoons of salt, 1 teaspoons of pepper and the Tabasco.  Add the onions and using your hands toss well to make sure everything is coated.  

Place the in the refrigerator and let marinate for 20 minutes, up to several hours.

In a separate, wide and shallow bowl, combine the flour, corn meal, 1 teaspoon salt, 1/2 teaspoon pepper, the cayenne and the thyme.  Set aside.

When you are ready to fry the onion rings, preheat the oven to 200 degrees F and line a large baking sheet with paper towels.

Pour the oil into a dutch oven and attach a candy thermometer to the side.  Heat until the oil is 350 degrees F, adjusting the heat level to maintain a constant temperature. 

One at a time, lift a ring out of the buttermilk and place in the seasoned flour and cornmeal mixture.  Gently dredge them and then place on a rimmed baking sheet.  

Continue until all the onion rings have been coated.

Working in batches, drop some of the onion rings into the hot oil, being careful not to overcrowd the pot.  Fry until golden brown, flipping every so often with a pair of tongs.  

Once the onion rings are cooked, remove from the oil and place on the baking sheet lined with paper towels and place in the oven to stay way while you continue cooking the rest.  They should remain crisp in the oven for 30 minutes.  Serve hot with lots of ketchup!

I tend not to care for the types of onion rings that have a heavy, poofy batter enveloping them.  I much prefer something more delicate and crisp, and that is exactly what these are.  The coating is so light and crunchy (not tempura light, but not far) and just really well seasoned.   When adding the Tabasco and cayenne, don't be shy.  It would really take a lot to make these onion rings what would be considered spicy spicy.  In fact, since I really like the heat, I even add a healthy dose of Tabasco to the ketchup I'm dipping them in.  One thing to note is that since the onions shrink down while cooking, it might be wise not to separate every single layer of rings before marinating and then dredging them.  Maybe try to keep two layers of onion for each ring.  Or mix it up, keep some think and some thin.

As we ate these I remarked to Mark that these would be (obviously) great alongside a thick steak or a big burger.  Or a few rings topping a burger.  It is football season (so my sports enthusiast friends tell me) and a big mountain of these would be perfect to serve some friends while watching the game.  Now I wish I had a burger.

1 very large onion serves 2 very generously and more likely 4

KITCHEN UPDATE: Tile, lighting and paint

Somehow the entire month of December slipped by without one post.  I am very sorry.  I neglected to acknowledge Well Fed's three year anniversary.  I didn't do one post about my own birthday (mid-thirties for those who are wondering).  Nothing about Christmas and nothing about New Years Eve.  It's not that I haven't been cooking.  I have.  In fact, I've had some time off between projects and my goal was to cook up a storm and blog the hell out of it.  And yet, nothing.  I do have an excuse, be it a feeble one.  The battery in my camera died.  It's kind of a blog equivalent of "the dog ate my homework" isn't it?  But it did.  I'll go get one tomorrow, I promise.  

I also promise to recreate some of the meals I've made, the results of which I was very pleased with.  There's a really great curry from Nigel Slater that I've made several times.  I had my first dinner party (spiced pork stew with pan-roasted root vegetables from Sunday Suppers at Lucques) as well as my second (chicken tagine with kabocha squash and chickpeas and a carrot and coriander salad from a fantastic new cookbook called A Plater of Figs).  I made a great rice pudding with flavored with orange flower water.  I baked chocolate thumbprint cookies with a vanilla and honey chocolate ganache filling that I saw Martha make one day with special guest star, Paula Abdul.  I used stock that I made from the Thanksgiving turkey carcass to make risotto and then used the leftover risotto to make aracini - little risotto balls stuffed with fontina cheese, which are then rolled and breadcrumbs and then fried.  Heaven.  Seriously.  And then there was the big New Years Eve party Mark and I hosted with the unbelievable help of Annie, Heather and her professional chef boyfriend, Timothy.  We counted down till midnight nibbling on roasted shrimp cocktail (Barefoot Contessa), fontina and truffle oil fondue (New York Times), creamy balls of goat cheese seasoned with smoked paprika and then rolled in strips of roasted red and yellow peppers (Anne Burrel).  There was also a warm crab dip as well as sausage stuffed, fried olives.  Oh yes.

With all this entertaining, I was frantic to get the kitchen done.  Unfortunately it still isn't.  But it's very. very close.  

The subway tile backsplash was installed and looks amazing.  (And for anyone in the Los Angeles area who might be interested, my tile guy is fantastic)

That would be a framed photo of Jane Fonda as Barbarella in her trailer on a break making soup or pasta or something while still in costume.  A little reminder that just because we're cooking doesn't mean we can't also look fabulous.

The gorgeous brushed nickel industrial style hanging fixtures for over the sink and in the breakfast room (which Mark thinks looks like something out of The City of Lost Children) have been hung.  Let there be light.  (I would also highly recommend my brilliant electrician)

And after weeks and weeks of priming, wet sanding, painting, more wet sanding and yet more painting, the cupboards, doors, drawers and also walls are finally done.  

Well, almost - there's still all the baseboards and the bookcases and walls in the breakfast room.  I'm still not sure about the color - are they the same as the cupboards, are they white like in the rest of the house, or something different still?  I'm really liking the idea of black woodwork.  

And then there has been some issues with the hardware for the cabinets.  As I install them, I keep breaking screws off in the wood.  While I figure out how to rectify the situation and make sure it doesn't keep happening, my drawer pulls are little tags made from painters' tape.  So classy.  But as far as a functioning kitchen goes, I couldn't be happier.