Xan: Roast Chicken with Spaghetti Squash. It's magically delicious!

Wouldn't it be amazing if we lived in a world where you could cut a squash in half and find this:

Unfortunately, plants haven't quite mastered pseudo-meat yet.  Even when they're trying to be eaten, at best they are sweet, not meat.  Or maybe nature is just messing with us.  Maybe the carrion flower is nature's way of saying, "Well...we can make meat grow on trees...but instead we're just going to torture you."

Well if nature won't lend a hand, we'll just have to do it ourselves.

Or not.  It really depends who you are.

Like Maru box cat, Catherine loves the white meat.  And like Maru, she doesn't have to lift a paw to get it.  From her perspective, this world is observationally equivalent to one in which you could cut open a squash and magically find chicken.

What magic is this?

Actually, that's not quite true.  Catherine doesn't even have to cut the squash. In fact, I would go so far as to say that she can't cut the squash.  For this mighty task requires a mighty tool.  Behold, Mewlnir the Mouse Hammer!

Take heed, for I am called many things.  The Bane of Bones.  The Crusher of Cutting Boards. The Squasher of Squashes. The cabinets will quake when I am unsheathed. Lo, my gleam will slice through the air and you will know that I am come.  You will know me then by my One True Name.  Fear me!  I am Mewlnir the Mouse Hammer,  the Destroyer of All Things.

With a name such as Mewlnir, you will surely want a backstory, and here at Vongsafood we sure do love our utterly foodless and completely superfluous Vongsatangents!

A Tale of Two Tangents.  

It was the best of tangents, it was the worst of tangents.  Depending who you ask, it was either a really good or a really bad idea for Kathleen to get a cat.  Is there a Schroedinger joke in there somewhere, or not?  Two things are known: first, that Dad would prefer the cat dead and nameless, and second, that Kathleen would prefer the cat alive and, well, named, but not necessarily well-named.  

When Kathleen got a cat, she solicited name suggestions.  Dad's only comment was:

It doesn't deserve to be named, but in order to avoid the whole Love
Symbol: "Cat formerly known as It" awkwordity, I will refer to it as
Scrod.

I, on the other hand, offered literally dozens of excellent suggestions for cat names.  From the Periodic Table alone, I generated so many good ones: Fluoraline. Chloraline. Mrs. Iodine! Mrs. Dr. Iodine! Beryllia. Zinc.

Yet somehow she rejected those.  So I looked to my pantry and Greek mythology.  Parslephone!  Shallothalia!  Thymelpomene! Paprikat!  All rejected.  It seems that Kathleen has no taste, although in retrospect I clearly should have suggested something spicy.  Death Stalker? Ghost in the Darkness?

Next I tried dinosaurs (because...dinosaurs!), but to no avail.  Deinonycat, Pterodacatyl, Quetzalcatlus, and more, all extinct before they even had a proper chance.

What about candy?  Everyone likes candy!  I know Kathleen likes candy.  Kitkat?  Snickers? Mrs. Goodpurr?? Jaffa Cat?!?

Alas, no dice.  It was time to weaponize.  Cats are always trying to stick people with their claws, so...Felis Cactus!  Come on, that's great!  Or might she prefer a karate cat?  I know Kathleen likes Harry Potter, so what about Mrs. Chuck Norris?  Such a cat would even come equipped with Mrs. Chuck Norris facts.  Mrs. Chuck Norris is the reason Waldo is hiding.  When the Boogeyman goes to sleep every night, he checks his closet for Mrs. Chuck Norris.  There is no Theory of Evolution; just a list of animals Mrs. Chuck Norris allows to live.

No?  Why ever not?!?

And so we come to my last, best, and most desperate suggestion.  A name never to be used lightly.  A name so powerful that time seems to slow whenever it is uttered.  I am referring, of course, to Mewlnir the Mouse Hammer.  The power! The glory!  Can you hear it?  Can you hear the sound of all the world's mice collectively squeaking in terror?

And so, naturally, she named her cat Grace.  

I think we can agree that "Grace" is what you name your cat if you want it to throw little mouse tea parties and ice cream socials.

Anyway, how Kathleen rejected this frankly awesome cat name, I will never know.  What I do know is that after she did, I was free to claim it for my meat cleaver.  And I don't know how "Grace" is working out for her, but I can tell you that Mewlnir is doing a fine job in my kitchen.

Though my kitchen is a black box from which delicious dinners magically emerge, it is nevertheless full of Catherine's Mickey Mouse plates and Mickey Mouse hot pads and Mickey Mouse pizza cutters.  

So. Many. Mickeys.

But in this sea of Mickeys, one tool rises above the rest.  When the Mouse Hammer comes out to play, the pantry rattles with the fear of all things.  The mice go into hiding, and sanity is restored, if only for a time.

A mighty tool requires a mighty wielder, and only I am mighty enough to wield Mewlnir.  Which is why, as I said 2 hours ago, Catherine cannot cut squash.

[A cleaver is excellent for cutting big things like squash, because it can be halfway through and the top of the cleaver is still sticking well out of the squash.  That means you can whack it right on top, right in the center, and keep driving it through.  A thinner knife gets a couple inches into the squash and then what do you do?  Apply force from the handle?  Good luck.  Maybe put another hand on tip of the knife, sticking out the other side of the squash?  Have fun with that.  By the way, your knife is now stuck in a giant, dense squash.  Furthermore, the deeper you are able to cut, the more stuck it will be, when you eventually have to give up and try a different angle.  Whatever you do, it will not be safe.  Anyway, I'm sure even you, a devoted tiny-print-reader, are tired of hearing about Mewlnir.  Which is a shame, because Mewlnir is awesome.  Mewlnir Mewlnir Mewlnir.]

Nevertheless, though Catherine cannot cut squash, she can still eat this:

Technically this one is mine, as our contract specifies that Catherine gets all the white meat.

Because, as we have established, magic.  It's just chicken, spaghetti squash, carrots, and sweet potatoes.  The chicken has paprika, chili powder, brown sugar, salt, and pepper, and everything else has...chicken. I mean, pan drippings.  Yep, that's about it.  Nothing fancy, but magically delicious!  You can't really go wrong here, which is a lie, but I like the way it sounds.

Using sophisticated econometric methods, I estimate that our relationship is at least 80% magic, of which only about 10% falls in the kitchen.  It's fortunate there is so much magic to go around, because there are Mickeys in all the other rooms as well. Aaaaaaaaaah!

Goodnight everyone!  And see you at the wedding!  I'm going to bed now, which is a lie, but I like the way it sounds...

Xan: Chicken, and family! (allegedly)

We had Melanie, Kelvin, Chelsea and Nick over this summer, and I did chicken on the grill with my rotisserie-style rub.  It was a hit!  I thoroughly regret that we did not take a single picture for Vongsafood, given that it was a family food occasion, but I guess we were too distracted by our hosting duties.  It happened, I promise!  

Maybe we can all just pretend this is a picture of the chicken we ate?  Wait, let me try that again.   

Maybe we can all just pretend this is a picture of the chicken that Nick ate?  There was a second chicken too, for those of us who don't play football, but I'm sure it's just out of the frame...

Did I post this recipe before?

For the rub, mix together 1 TBS brown sugar, 1 TBS paprika, 1 TBS chili powder, 1 TBS kosher salt (or 2 tsp table salt), and some ground pepper.

Coat the surface of the chicken with a little oil, and sprinkle the rub on all surfaces. 

Roast chicken in the oven at 400 degrees until done. (I use a thermometer and take it out when the breast reaches 147 degrees and the thigh reaches 165).

 

Xan: Pollo a la Brasa!

Well I did some searching and found a few recipes for the Peruvian-style chicken we ate growing up at Crisp & Juicy.  I did not know it was Peruvian before, only that it was delicious.

Tonight I tried out a baby recipe which required no special ingredients. The results were excellent!  It's going on the menu!

It did have something in common, flavorwise, with the Crisp & Juicy chicken.  The next step is to go to a latin american grocer to get the right ingredients.

No fried plantains but we do have broccoli and delicious coconut rice of greatest whiteness.  Mix 1/3 cup sugar with a can of coconut milk and 2 cups of water in a saucepan, bring to a boil, add 1.5 cups rice, cover and simmer, stirring periodically, until liquid is absorbed and rice is tender (may need to add more water), about 20 minutes.

Xan's guide to roasting a chicken

Summary:  Here is a roast chicken for people who are having trouble achieving browning without simultaneously drying out the chicken.  Salt a chicken with 1 TBS kosher salt, place on a plate uncovered in the fridge for 1-2 days.  Stuff with a quartered lemon and a halved head of garlic.  Coat with 1 TBS melted butter, sprinkle with pepper and thyme, surround with vegetables, and roast at 425 F (or, Lin, as close as you can get in your oven) until breast is 150 and thigh is 170. Let rest 15 minutes, continuing to cook the vegetables.  Carve and serve.

*

I have lately been roasting a chicken at least once a week, refining my approach to the point where I'm pretty happy with the results.

My personal criteria are as follows: The chicken should be impressive yet easy.  It should be flavorful, not at all dry, and have browned, crispy skin.  The chicken should not be too much work to prepare or clean up, although I don't mind if it takes some foresight.  The approach should ideally scale up from a 2-3 lb bird to a 7 lb bird so I can use it for feeding 2 to 6 people.

And here is a chicken that satisfies all of those criteria:

If you would like to achieve this, I will dispense my secrets now.


Here is the same chicken moments before going in the oven:

This is a regular 6.5 lb unfancy supermarket roasting chicken, which I bought two days earlier for about $12.

Step 1: Salt.  Brining is a great way to keep a chicken moist and give it flavor.  But in my opinion, it's a pain in the neck.  You need to make the brine, find a container big enough to hold the brining chicken, and find a space in the fridge big enough to hold the brining container!  So instead, I will salt (or "dry brine") a chicken by sprinkling a tablespoon of kosher salt (or 1/2 TBS table salt) all over the chicken, and setting it on a plate in the fridge for 1-2 days.  The salt will initially draw out moisture, dissolve, and then migrate inside the chicken, drawn continually inward by the magic of osmotic pressure.  You'll know it worked because the meat will taste salty; of course, you can adjust the amount of salt to your liking.

It couldn't be easier, and furthermore this method produces superior results to wet brining.  Both dry and wet brining will solve the problem of dry chicken meat, but for crispy browned skin, we actually want the outside of the chicken to be dry.  As the dry brining chicken sits uncovered in the fridge, the surface of the chicken has a chance to dry out.

If you are roasting a chicken and you don't have time for the above, consider at least patting down your chicken with paper towels.  In fact, if you are cooking any meat and you're having trouble browning it, the problem can often be solved by drying it as much as possible with paper towels before cooking.

Step 2: Once the chicken is brined, I stick it in a roasting pan and coat it with 1 TBS melted butter.  I ate my way through many inferior chickens on the path to perfection, and a few weeks ago I did a not-particularly-well-controlled experiment and found that butter browned much better than olive oil or nothing:

The right (from our POV) breast had butter, the left breast and leg had olive oil, and the right leg had nothing.

Butter also tastes good.  And 1 TBS is not an unhealthy amount of butter on a 6 lb chicken.

From this point, you can do whatever you like. I like to sprinkle the buttered chicken with pepper and thyme.  I will stuff the cavity with a quartered lemon and a head of garlic cut in half (so that each clove is cut in half).  It surprises me, but somehow this actually does get garlic and lemon flavor into the chicken.  Once I used two large heads of garlic and it was almost overpowering.

Then scatter whatever vegetables around the chicken -- potatoes, carrots, onions, butternut squash -- with some salt and pepper, and roast the whole thing at 425 F.  Stir the veggies occasionally, and cook till the breast is about 150 and the thigh about 170.  It should take about 1.5 hours.  Depending on the cooking time and your veggies, you will probably need to put them back in for another 15 minutes, which is great since the chicken should rest for at least that long before being carved anyway.

The result will be a moist and flavorful and beautiful chicken!  How To Carve It!

The brining keeps the chicken moist whatever the size and cooking time.  And the veggies make this a one-pot meal, which covers easy clean up.  My only problem is the unfortunate tradeoff between number of vegetables and how well they brown.

mega-veg = poor browning

semi-veg=excellent browning

But truth be told, it is impossible for chickeny vegetables not to be delicious, so I'm happy.


If you are still having trouble with browning and your oven doesn't go up any farther, another thing you can do is sprinkle a little baking powder over the chicken.  This raises the pH and will help the skin get shatteringly crisp.

Xan et al: Creole Everything + Turducken!!!

The long-awaited Christmas Eve Eve turducken recap!  Sorry for taking so long...

Back before Christmas, mom pitched the possibility of buying a Costco turducken.  What a great idea!  We never did that before...

But this gave me an even better idea: why not make a turducken ourselves?  To make a turducken, you debone a turkey, a duck, and a chicken, and lay them flat on top of each other with a layer of stuffing between each.  Then you roll the whole thing up and tie it back into the shape of a turkey.

The hard part of this is supposed to be deboning the birds.  But loyal readers will recall that before Christmas I was practicing on chickens!  (umm, dead ones, mostly).  According to Jacques these birds are all pretty much the same inside, so why not?  Let's get to it!

This was a team effort.  Our photographers were not always paying attention, so you will just have to fill in the gaps with your imagination.

A 13.7 lb turkey, 2.5 lb chicken and 4.3 lb duck 

Deboning the chicken first:

Cutting the skin of the back

Pulling out the backbone.

That took about 15 minutes.  Next, the duck (his name is Charlie):

Charlie came from the Asian supermarket so he still had his head and feet!  This did not please the photographer and indeed may explain why there are no pictures of actually deboning the duck.  Sorry, Charlie!  The photographer has left the building.

She did return, however, to see Charlie dressed smartly in his duxedo: 

Charlie was dispatched in about 20 minutes.  There were some differences, like his rounded wishbone (good for approximate wishes) and almost negligible tenderloins, but overall he was pretty much the same inside.

The turkey, on the other hand, was quite difficult to work with, if only for his size.  Deboning this guy was a 45 minute workout:

Pulling out the backbone.  The drumstick bones are left in the turkey.

The backbone, with tenderloins still attached.

Incidentally, we ate the turkey, duck, and chicken tenderloins for a late-night snack; the bones were used for stock.

These deboned birds were then brined overnight.  Sadly, our photographers were not present for the next part, so you'll just have to imagine laying the turkey skin-side down, putting a layer of creole cornbread/sausage stuffing (which we had made) on top, then laying the duck down, then more stuffing, then the chicken, then more stuffing, and then rolling it up.

We used metal skewers to secure each rolled-up bird:

Thanks, linden's arm!

I think mom was really enjoying herself.

Next, flipped it over, and sewed up the neck and tail to keep the stuffing inside:

It looks like a turkey, except with a giant duck tail sticking out.

Finally it was time for the oven.  Are you ready for the payoff?




...are you sure?




I hope you can handle it...

No photoshop!  It actually looked like this!

Chicken, in duck, in turkey, oh my!

Sorry, I did not mean to channel Pioneer Woman there.



Okay, maybe a little.



No seriously that's quite enough.  I will not make you wade through any more step-by-step photos.  In any case, as you can see, a nice thing about deboned things is they're easy to carve!  Just slice and serve!  Everyone gets some of everything.

The whole meal was creole-themed, in fact.  We were trying to get as far as possible away from the traditional Christmas meal that would be following shortly after this one.

Final thoughts?  It was really fun to make this turducken, and totally worth it for the adventure and the novelty.  However, I'm not sure that I'd do it again.  It tasted good but what a waste of a duck!  Not only do the turkey and chicken bring down the average, but furthermore there's no way to cook a duck optimally when it's sandwiched between two other birds.  The skin doesn't get crispy.  The fat mostly just sits there (you can see a thick layer of fat in the picture) instead of rendering.  And I'm not sure I want a creole duck either.

Coming soon: how to really cook a duck.

Linden's First Roast Bird, and Leftovers

Well I have finally gotten moved in and settled down and internetted up in my new flat, and I am starting to get to do some cooking, for the first time in a while!

Now, I'm living with Chris, and as we all know he is a little bit English. Which means, different food his entire life! I mean, there's the similar things, like sandwiches and pasta with tomato sauce, but much of his diet has consisted of shepherds' pies and cock on the van and beef barging on and of course roast dinners, some of which I had never heard of, and none of which I have ever made.

But compromises must be made, and so I have started cooking other foods - last weekend I roasted my first chicken! It was very delicious, and I didn't really take any pictures, so you will have to settle for this dark and close up picture of the already-plated meal.

Then, with the leftovers, I made tortilla soup! Which went very well and was very colorful.

Yum yum.

Xan: Chicken and cucumber?

This was prettier than it was delicious:

I think the proportions were just wrong.

Xan: Experiments with Chicken

Q: If a spineless person is a chicken, what do you call a spineless chicken?
A: Dinner for four.

I've butterflied quite a few chickens lately (cutting out the backbone with kitchen shears, squashing flat).  If you stick the legs out toward the edge of the roasting pan where it's hotter, they will cook in about the same time as the white meat.  Seems to work.  This guy's name is Colin:

A little olive oil, salt, pepper, and thyme.

Easily cut into serving pieces.

Seen here with some focaccia bread from Cook's Illustrated's The New Best Recipes which, frankly, didn't come out well enough to justify the effort:

Butterflying has been my go-to method for roasting chicken. But yesterday I tried something different.  I ran into this awesome video for how to debone a chicken (while leaving it all in one piece) and I had to try it:



By the way, I may have to make an exception to my anti-French bias for Jacques Pepin, because this is just too awesome.  He certainly makes it look easy, huh?  Careful, the wishbone is very pwinted!

Somehow, some way, I will master this skill.  I will probably never be able to do this in a minute, but if I could get under 5 that would be pretty awesome.  My first attempt took closer to half an hour, of course...but I did it! (and obviously that's a lot of figuring-it-out time).  Here's my boneless chicken in its birthday suit tuxedo...I think we should name him Bones:

"Bones?  Whaddayamean, Bones?!? Dammit Jim, I'm a chicken, not a doctor!" 

Now, we also wanted to try this farro stuff that Anne got us the other day.  "What is this farro stuff, anyway?" we wondered.  Well, when life gives you stuff, make stuffing-ade!  Or at least stuffing.

So with Bones in hand, I created an impromptu stuffing: a mixture of farro, diced fire roasted tomatoes, onions, and a small army of spices in approximately (and I stress approximately) the ratios of ras el hanout.  And smoked paprika.  Yes.  Lots of smoked paprika.

I then rolled Bones up and tied everything together with some string all fancy-like:

And here are the results!

"lollipops," yum

"Looking tanned, Bones!"

Hmm, Bones is missing something besides his bones. Quick, what do you call a leg that runs away?

Leg of lam!

Farro=good!  Needless to say, I was pretty stuffed after stuffing myself with chicken stuffed with stuffing with all the stuff in it.  And Catherine liked it too, because she's knife-impaired and bones trouble her.

Linden's Panang Curry

If you go to www.oed.com - that would be the Oxford English Dictionary's website, for those of you not in the know - and search "potato effect", you will find three entries. The first is spelling-related, pertaining to the 'e' introduced when pluralizing the word. The second has to do with Ireland, and thus is of little interest here, as their cuisine is not predominantly what you would call photogenic. Our family has a historic, if tense, relationship with the third.

When Papa cooks plain baked potatoes, his thoughts go something like this: There are five of us, and these are big baking potatoes, so reckon 3/4 each (maybe a whole one for me), better make four and hope someone isn't hungry. There are usually two left.

When he roasts potatoes, he can cook the same amount and only have one or two little potatoe eighths remaining (the runts of the litter). When he makes french fries - which, I would like to point out, he hasn't done in years, a major failing of his kitchining - he uses the same number and we all complain that he didn't cook enough.

His response is always to retaliate with baked potatoes, and then complain that we aren't eating them. He says, "I don't know how you expect me to estimate how many potatoes people will eat when one night you want more than a whole one each and the next all of you together barely manage one", and feels very righteous about his own consistent intake.

However, this is easily explained by what is commonly known as the potato effect, which refers to the phenomenomenon whereby delicious food is less filling.

I have found that chicken experiences the potato effect when cooked in the form of Panang Curry. I will cook enough raw chicken that I expect enough leftovers for another full meal, and there will be absolutely nothing left, or maybe enough for a small snack the following day. Unlike Papa, however, I am an adapter. I just double my quantities.

Full of Goodness: Linden's Tart, Wegetables, and Pasta Casserole

To continue posting food cooked months ago, here are dinners from mid-may. We have a cauliflower and caramelized onion tart, which is both delicious and not new to my repetoire. This time I did change the crust though - instead of trimming the edges and being left with (1) pie scraps and (2) a cooked tart whose edges have receded (like Papa's ... is this too mean? I think it might be.), I folded the extra back down over the crust, so the edges are double-layered. This has two benefits - leaving it overhanging a bit is okay, since there's more holding up the extra crust, so you can get a less shrunken crust, and, more crust per slice.  Other delicious highlights of this meal are that you roast the cauliflower beforehand (roasted cauliflower is delicious) and caramelize the onions. Everything that goes into this tart is delicious on its own! And they go really well together.

I submit that this fulfills half the requirements of goodness, since it is vegetarian and has cauliflower, and that we can round up and call this goodness. (I know this is sort of cheating, since it also has enough cheese to kill a wild Xanbeast, but I use skim milk.) Plus, we ate it with asparagus and salad, because I believe in wegetables (and because knowledge is beliefs that are true, I also knowledge wegetables):

Concurrent to this, since there's some occasional waiting with this recipe (even once you've made the crust and it's chilling, you have cauliflower roasting in the oven, and onion caremelizing on the stove, neither of which require much attention. So, I made a second dinner, which I divided up into meal-sized portions and froze, because the life of a student sometimes calls for freezing.

So, because I was feeling slightly bad about the whole tart thing, I made a pasta casserole with a higher goodness-cheese ratio. This one features spinach and almonds. I know, you say, spinach? and almonds? with pasta? how could this work? How could it possibly taste good? Like this, gentle readers:

You add cheese (fresh mozzarella, because that's how we roll here and studentchez-Linden). It was slightly bland, but the addition of pepper and fresh basil post-thawing whenever I ate some improved matters, and it made me feel very virtuous, which is almost as good as feeling decadent.

Linden: The Good Old Days

I have these pictures from a few weeks ago, when I was still allowed to eat what normal people would call "a healthy varied diet". (Right now, the most exciting bit of variation in my diet is the decision between broccoli and cauliflower.) I made a ricotta and courgette gallete, sprinkled with fresh basil, and it was delicious. I have figured out both my oven and pie crust (I have taken to using the fingers method), and I cleverly brushed some egg yolk on top to make the crust deliciously golden brown.


Now this was also was during the golden weekend when I was not eating anything artificial, and thus baking my own bread. So dinner included my underbaked, soggy version of Xan's no-effort-a-caveman-could-do-it-but-Linden-can't bread.

And, because I didn't want to feed people on pie and bread alone, I threw together a delicious pasta dish with caramelized onions, diced chicken cut small enough that it tends to hide within the shells, any peas or green beans to hand (also cut small), pasta shells, the extra ricotta and basil, and lemon and pepper.

Delicious! On a sidenote, the pasta could probably be done without the ricotta, and it would turn into a lemon-pepper-basil pasta, and it would still be delicious. And, the cheese can be the last thing thrown in, so conceivably you could cook a batch, take out half of it, and then add cheese to the rest. I also suggest throwing some parmesan on top for added deliciousness.