Cooking For Ms. Right!!

Chicken Poulet Supreme!I met her at my first barbeque. I don’t mean my actual first barbeque;  as in a baby with a brontosaurus bone, sipping from dad’s PBR first barbeque. I mean my first movie barbeque, where I worked on a real, live film set.  First barbeque, you see, is a term employed, by those-in-the-know, with both pride and derision.  As in, “This isn’t my first barbeque.” versus “Is this your first barbeque??”

Returning from a whirlwind auto tour of Europe with my best friend Dale, me a recent graduate of culinary school, I got a call from one of my former chef instructors.

“So, how was Europe?” Chef Patty Hart inquired. 

“Great, what’s up?” I wittily replied. 

“Got a job yet,”   “Not yet,” says me.

“Meet me at so & so at 5:30. I’ve got something for you.”

5:30 came and I found myself smack dab in the middle of what was to become my first barbeque: The film set for ‘So I Married An Axe Murderer.’  After a quick meeting with the producer we were off to the production office to meet with – Ms. Right.  Now when I say Ms. Right I mean it in all the best possible ways.  She is beautiful, smart, kind, witty, humble, and unavailable.  Sigh . . .

It was Ms. Right who hired me to cook for Mike Myers, of SNL and Wayne’s World fame, on the set of this new movie.  To answer the question forming on your tongue, Mike is brilliant, funny, considerate, and extremely talented.  It was a privilege to cook for him.

Back to Ms. Right, since she is of a rare breed in the motion picture industry, not a seeker of fame, I have chosen not to use her real name. So Ms. Right she will remain.  I will openly admit to having a crush on her from the first time we met; unfortunately our lives spin in different circles never allowing us more than the odd telephone call,  chance meeting-for-dinner, and  the too few and far between email exchanges.  FYI: She is happily partnered with a charming man and both currently reside in Jolly Old. That being said, Ms. Right and I have maintained a strong bond around food.  We loooooove to talk about it and have shared great fun and laughter over the few meals we have inhaled together. My favorite line of hers is, “This is going to cost me an extra 20 minutes on the treadmill tomorrow but I don’t care!”  Hence the Ms. Right scale of decadence was born.

One recent email exchange brought up the topic of her discovering a local French bistro and she raved about the Cod with fresh lentils.  Positively made my mouth water and think of all things French.  She and her date enjoyed not only the expertly prepare meal, they wisely complimented it with a tasty French Sauvignon. They were happy.  Made me happy just reading about it!  It also put me in the mind to try a few items French and so my foray in to the world of crepes began.  Now the strawberry crepes I wrote about recently were certainly fabulous but honestly, they were just an excuse to prepare a plate of plain ole’ crepes to cook with later.  Then inspiration struck!  A welcome home meal for Ms. Right, the next time she flies through town.  Crepe Poulet Supreme!

Inspired is the right term ‘cuz those little buggers were amazing.  Crispy browned slices of chicken, sautéed mushrooms, caramelized onions and golden bell peppers simmered in a sauce of rich chicken stock and heavy cream.  After a few minutes on the stove, using a slotted spoon, I filled and rolled 2 crepes with the chicken and vegetable mixture and set them aside. Returning to the stove I reheated the sauce and whisked in 3 tablespoons of soft, sweet butter. It made it glisten, it made it shine and boy did it make me smile.  Sauce on the plate, crepes on the sauce, quick photo and then in to my belly they went.

For those of you notice the lack of a green vegetable I offer this:

1.  I garnished with lemon thyme making my mouth very happy.

2.  I stood next to the fresh little plant-lings in my garden while enjoying my fork-to-mouth     exercise.

3. YES, 1 and 2 DO count.)

Thanks for another inspired meal Ms. Right.

 

Eat well and Smile Often,

tj

p.s. This dish would be a 45 on the Ms. Right scale of decadence . . . just saying.

Tastes Like Chicken . . . Really!?

Did you know that alligator tastes like chicken? Bullfrogs and rabbits tastes like chicken. Snake, iguana, snapping turtle? Yep, yep and yep; all taste like chicken. Or so says Joe Staton in his Annals of Improbable Research. As do quail, goose and pigeon! Even kangaroos, I’m assured, tastes like chicken. (Sorry, roo, for my friends down under.) Now I can’t speak to Iguana or snapping turtle or roos for that matter but there is one thing, I can tell you, that absolutely does not taste like chicken . . . and that is chicken!

Chickens from Sun and Water Farms don’t taste like chickens. At least not any of the ones I’ve eaten. Tish Tomlinson, of Sun and Water Farms, takes great pride, and goes to great pains to raise her chickens in a method pioneered by Joe Salatin of Polyface Farms in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley. This is as close to free range as a farmer can get and still protect his investment. Joe Salatin’s method involves raising a flock in a large movable pen which provides protection from both the elements and predators.

Once the chicks are old enough to be moved from the brooder, they are placed in these movable pens located in lush pasture land. Here they are allowed to move about freely, scratch, peck and generally be obnoxious. Once every day or two, depending on the condition of the pasture beneath their pen, the flock gets moved over to next next patch of fresh grass and their lives continue stress free. Here they live out their lives protected from the elements; fed healthy, wholesome food at regular intervals; and given room to ‘run chicken run.’ Ah, the farm life.

To my point: These chickens don’t taste like chicken. They taste way better. When cutting open a cleaned bird, just prior to cooking, the first thing you will notice is the color of the fat. Grocery store chickens have loose, pale colored fat. The chickens from Sun and Water Farms have warm yellow fat lines and man I believe it: the flavor is in the fat. This doesn’t mean a skinless breast of Tish’s chicken will be flavorless, quite the opposite, the meat has this wonderful rich savor to it. It is hard to describe really ‘cuz . . . wait for it . . . it don’t taste like chicken!

It just so happens I had one of Tish’s chicken’s in the freezer, which did it no harm at all. I placed it in the refrigerator the night before to thaw and set about cooking it last night. Now even though I studied classic French technique, and the French are world renowned for their sauces, I went light and lean with this fine birdy. Here’s what I did.

Preheated the oven to 450 F degrees

Removed the gizzard and rinsed the chicken well

Patted the bird dry and rubbed inside and out with kosher salt

Placed the salty bird on a roasting rack in a pan
and slid it in to the oven.

(Here’s the French part)

I waited until the bird started talking to me (??)

When I heard the bird start to sizzle and pop, about 30 minutes into it,
I turned the oven temp down to 350 F degrees and continued roasting
for about 30 minutes more.

I checked the internal temperature until I it was about 160 F degrees
(The best place to check temp is not in the plump of the breast but in it alongside the thigh.
Be careful not to touch bone as this will throw your reading off.)

I removed the bird from the oven and inverted it onto a plate
allowing the juices to drain down into the breasts.

Throw that down on a plate with some mashed taters and greens and MMMM . . . mmm
you got some good cooking there.

Eat Well and Smile Often!

tj

Please pass the . . . never mind.