If there’s one old lady I have a huge food crush on, it’s Marcella Hazan, and she has this incredible recipe for lemon roasted chicken that you may or may not have encountered before. It’s by far my favorite roasted chicken of all time.
First, it’s easy – stupid easy. Second, it’s impossible to screw up. And third, it tastes like a charm. The chicken bakes in its own juices inside the oven, and the lemon gives off an aroma that makes your whole house smell savory, warm, and inviting. Heaven – if there is one – certainly smells like Marcella Hazan’s lemon roasted chicken.
I made this chicken for the umpteenth time on Sunday, and it turned out perfectly moist, as always. It brought me back to the moment when Kelly Alexander, a James Beard award-winning journalist and Duke professor, made this chicken in front of our culinary class. I still can’t forget the beautiful chicken skin puffing up and her explaining that poking the lemons 20 times is an absolute must. Any more or any less will jinx the perfection of this recipe.
I hope you enjoy this as much as I have.
I want you to know that I am struggling. The need within me to to make some sort of god-awful pun, relating jam (the food) to jam sessions or getting in a jam or Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis or jambalaya (which doesn’t even make sense) or whatever, is consuming me.
I should’ve called this recipe jelly instead of jam. Damn you, hindsight.4 Comments »
I’m writing about pizza again because, well, I can. And because lately I can’t shut up about pizza. Internet me is just following real life me’s lead.
More and more, I find myself engaging in these conversations about pizza making and… they’re not even conversations, really. It’s just me, impassioned, bathed in self-righteousness, and raving with the conviction of a true believer about how easy it is to make pizzas at home and how you have to try it. By the time I get to the ingredients, people are usually either genuinely afraid that I’ll never stop talking, or they’re nodding along, politely undressing me with their eyes instead of listening.2 Comments »
Today, Chef Kenny Bowers appeared on DLiving. He shared his ideas for game day appetizers and how to make cheesesteak sliders. Recipes below. Continue reading "Kenny Bowers Cooks on D Living"
Janice Provost urges you all to attend “A Community Cooks” at Paul Quinn College Farm. She’ll be there, we’ll be there, everyone will be there. Including you.
Continue reading "Janice Provost of Parigi Cooks Pan Seared Scallops on D Television"
Yesterday, Jeffery Hobbs (previously of Sissy’s, now of The Porch) put his muscles to work by making mussels. Jump for the recipe!
The first time I heard of scotch eggs, I thought ‘scotch and eggs don’t sound like they go together.’ But that’s also what I said about whiskey salad and the tursammock (turkey sandwich hammock), and we all know the genius of those… wait. Those were dreams. Scratch that. So what did I know about scotch eggs? Not much, turns out. Scotch eggs have nothing to do with scotch (whew!), and everything to do with wrapping hard boiled eggs in sausage and frying them. OK then. As a friend put it to me recently, ‘I like (expletive) wrapped in different (expletive). And fried.’
Me too.8 Comments »
This week’s post may as well be the sequel to last week‘s. At least in the sense that both recipes feature tomatoes and dried chilies prominently, and both of their names end with an appropriately festive ‘ole.’
But mole, if more common than posole, seems the more shrouded in mystery of the two. I mean there’s no real leap of faith involved in enjoying the various flavors of posole getting together, but chocolate in a savory sauce? WEIRD. (It’s not weird, I’m making a point) At some point, all of us – whether you’re a dainty food sophisticate or you have a hobo gutter palate – thought of chocolate as strictly the turf of sweets and, as such, the notion of chocolate serving as the linchpin of a pan-savory extravaganza probably seemed at first…off-putting. Not gum-mixed-with-popcorn off-putting, but still, like I said, weird.2 Comments »
Everyday lately, it’s warm, it’s cold. It’s cold, it’s warm. Get it together, nature. There have been so many cloudless days the last few weeks that look so inviting, but it’ll be like 50 out, with a wind that charges directly through your soul. Then it’s hot in the sun, arctic in the shade. I don’t know whether to wear a parka or jorts (probably both).
Weather as ambivalent as this calls for a dish that works no matter what it’s like outside, so this week it’s all about posole. Posole is a classic, traditionally pork (but in this case chicken) and hominy soup/stew. How classic is it? According to wikipedia, pre-Columbian* classic. In other words, it’s an old dish.** It’s kinda crazy that, given it’s extensive history on this continent, I didn’t get the memo about it’s existence until 3 or 4 years ago. No matter, I have made up for lost time since then.4 Comments »
D-TV launched this morning at 9 a.m. with The Broadcast, and Tim Rogers wrote a totally biased view of it. I can’t say I agree (yet), since I’m kicking up my feet and watching it tonight. DVR is man’s best friend. I did catch a glimpse of what Dean Fearing was making, and it looked pretty spectacular to someone who hadn’t eaten breakfast yet. Here’s the recipe. Happy Monday afternoon.
UPDATE: You can taste The Broadcast Dish and it will be available at Fearing’s in the at The Ritz Carlton through this Sunday, Feb.24.
Halibut with Toasted Fennel/Basil Crust on Potato Gnocchi with Wild Mushrooms, English Peas and Pancetta
4 each, 6oz Halibut
4 tablespoons, Olive Oil
Salt, to taste
Basil Aioli, recipe to follow
Fennel Crust, recipe to follow
1/2 cup Pancetta, small dice
Potato Gnocchi, recipe to follow
1 each Shallots, minced
2 cloves Garlic, minced
1/2 pound Wild Mushrooms, cleaned, sliced thin
1/2 cup Carrots, peeled, medium dice, blanched
1/2 cup English Peas, blanched
Coarse Ground Black Pepper, to taste
Red Pepper Flakes, to taste
1 cup (packed tight) Baby Arugula
Preheat Oven to 400 degrees.4 Comments »
It’s a tricky thing, writing about Valentine’s Day. There isn’t a whole lot to be said that isn’t well-worn territory at this point. Which makes sense, I guess, because Valentine’s Day, from the little candy hearts that say ‘be mine’ to the ubiquitous red cupids and heart-shaped boxes of chocolate, seems not to have changed much in aesthetic sensibility or theme since I was a kid (minus the Mr. T Valentines, unfortunately). See, Valentine’s Day is not about originality*; so why would writing about it be different? And Valentine’s Day certainly isn’t about subtlety either. If love itself is a metaphoric ballet, Valentine’s Day is a metaphoric lap dance. With ‘Pour Some Sugar on Me’ playing in the background. Loudly. You can’t ignore Valentine’s Day. Tricky or not, I can’t just not write about Valentine’s Day on Valentine’s Day.
Um, this @#$% is good. Alarmingly good.
I’m trying to write up an intro for this recipe and all I can think of are interjections and superlatives (where are you when I need you, other parts of speech?), so a few quick thoughts, then on to the recipe…
Continue reading "Look What I Made: Vegan Pistachio Ice Cream"
You can tell a lot about a person based on how they react to unfamiliar meats at the grocery store. There are those that purse their lips at the sight, quickly corralling anyone in tow away to the safety of boneless skinless chicken breasts, as if chased by a drifter. There are the moderates who are less judgey – maybe they do some medium-heat Thai food on occasion, no big deal – but still not that adventurous. At the other end, there are those that hyperventilate at the sight of random meats, grab as much as they can and head for the exit, all along muttering in a paranoid growl about meats and ‘the man.’
Do I have to say it? I’m in the third group. Hell, I think I may be the ringleader. Rabbit, wild boar, sweetbreads, beef cheeks*, tripe, you name it… where do I sign? And I would like to sign something, it would feel more official that way.2 Comments »
I’m not a New Year’s resolution kind of gal. And you won’t be seeing me sign up for a juice cleanse anytime soon. Mother Nature gave me her own version of the juice cleanse over the holidays that left me with my head in the toilet for four days. By the time January 1 came around, I was ready to give up my Gatorade and chicken broth diet for real food.
I was all too excited to cook the recipes I had earmarked over the break in Burma, Naomi Duguid’s hot new cookbook that so many people have been praising. As a self-proclaimed adventurous eater, I take pride in the fact that I prefer ‘authentic’ cuisine over the watered-down American fusion version and can handle a serious amount of spicy heat. I have built up my sense of pride only to show you how far the mighty fell last week. I did make a multi-course meal’s worth of recipes from Burma, in the hopes of sharing a Burmese dinner party idea with you. A few bites in, I threw it all away. The flavors were way too much for me. This is not Duguid’s fault — I’m convinced I was just not strong enough for it.4 Comments »
Football season is nearly over. In a couple of weeks, we’ll have had all the big hits, wild finishes and exhaustive periods of waiting around while every scoring play gets reviewed over and over. Gone, too: the tailgating, the lighthearted Sunday binge drinking, and the wings.
Buffalo wings are as integral a part of the culinary fabric of gridiron fandom as nachos or dogs are a part of baseball’s. Same goes for hockey and, well, I whatever it is hockey fans like. Molson’s? Sushi? No idea. But there is little doubting the supremacy of the humble buffalo wing as a preferred snack of the couch-bound Sunday masses.1 Comment »
I almost didn’t do this post. Making my own bacon was a learning experience. And not the cool kind. I’m into learning experiences where I either learn that I’m immediately good at something or I learn because documentaries are educational.* This wasn’t like that.
I figured bacon makin’ would be a challenge, of course, but I also assumed that there would be a vision-quest type of aspect to it. I mean, seeing a pork belly transform into bacon – how can that not be a spiritual enterprise? I thought that through the bacon, I would connect with my spirit animal** and learn some universal truth about life. No dice. I did learn some things – many of which could safely be filed under the header “How Not to Make Bacon at Home Properly.” If only an emoticon existed to express my feelings.5 Comments »
I was traveling when John Tesar was booted off of Top Chef for his risotto. I learned of the tragedy in an airport in Nicaragua. I overheard two Nicaraguan women in the airport talking in the ladies room. “Oh, senor Tesar conseguido un trato malo!” cried one. “Es el peor momento jamás para un jefe de cocina en esta exposición,” said another. The two gals then started an intense conversation on the techniques of cooking risotto. I wondered how an accomplished chef, like Tesar, could get kicked off a nationally televised cooking show by blowing a risotto preparation. Hell, I can make risotto. I mean, I have made risotto and people ate it. Anyway, I dropped my leisure plans and went looking for answers.
What? Tony Bourdain changed cell phone numbers? Again? I texted the tight-lipped Tesar. He wouldn’t “say” a word. Mind you, each text costs me 50 cents! That buys a lot of risotto in Nicaragua.
So, I tricked him. I texted, “Hey, “chef,” I’m in Nicaragua for some meetings and I have some folks coming to my villa on the beach tomorrow and I’d like a great risotto recipe. Got any fresh ideas? He texted back. What a sucker!
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the recipe (with a few comments from me) for the most hated risotto recipe in America determined by the judges (don’t get me started) of Top Chef.
You will have to jump off the risotto cliff: GO.
Continue reading "The Most Hated Risotto in America: John Tesar’s Losing Recipe"
Our resident voracious eater, Matthew Shelley, usually takes pretty pictures and writes pretty words about other peoples’ food, but this time he’s showing you what he can do in a kitchen. I’m sorry to report that he’s off the market, ladies. Mr. Shelley is engaged.
I am no chef. I am no baker. Now that I am absolved, let me say this, I do love to make food. I like to think of myself of a practitioner of love in the kitchen. I want my home to be a place of production, not just consumption. So I found this recipe on the Whole Food’s recipe website, but I decided to make some minor changes. I will share this with you, as well as a recipe for nut milk, which goes well with this savory and sweet loaf of banana bread.
Happy early part of January to all. I’m going to cut to the chase: I got a new waffle iron. I know; I’m as giddy as you are. Good riddance Year of Gangnam Style*, bring on the Year of the Waffle!
See, my parents, my siblings, my nephews, me, my dog – we’re a waffle eating people**. Several years ago, my brother gave me a waffle maker for Christmas. We lived together at the time, so the waffle maker was a kind of symbiotic gift. Made a lot of sense for both of us. And for awhile there, it was what academic-types often refer to as a ‘waffle bonanza.’5 Comments »
So last week, Lesley Mann Lynch wrote an amazing post about hosting a Christmas dinner, and it looked so good I’m just not even gonna go there. Instead, I’m tackling Christmas Eve dinner.
I like the idea of cassoulet for Christmas Eve for a couple of reasons. First, it has a French name, so even though it’s basically beans and meat, people will be like, “This sounds fancy, I should write this person into my will!” And second, you can feed a lot of people out of basically one large dish. People are impressed, well fed, and there’s not a ton to clean up. High-five handshakes all around.3 Comments »