Easy braised chicken

SELFEats: The Braised Chicken Recipe That Will Make You Feel Like a Master Chef

Whether you call yourself a "chef" or a simply a "cook," this decadent chicken recipe will instantly upgrade your status in the kitchen.

 

I once had a ridiculous argument with my husband about whether I could call myself a home chef. I was a cook, Max said, not a chef, even with the qualifier of “home.” I had never spent time in a professional kitchen or attended an accredited program, ergo I could lay claim to neither toque nor title. Our friend Gina, who is a real chef and a whiz in any kitchen, happened to bare witness to our ridiculous exchange, and when pressed (by Max, not me), took his side.

 I was annoyed. Mostly because I hate being wrong—who doesn’t?— but also because calling me a cook seemed to devalue both my talents in the kitchen and my efforts to keep our family healthy with home-cooked, wholesome meals day in, day out. Plus, I had taken a handful of cooking classes, obsessively watched cooking shows since I was a teenager (back then they only aired on PBS, imagine my delight when the Food Network launched) and had a shelf stocked with cookbooks to attest to my culinarian ambitions, if not status.

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The newest cookbook to land on my shelf is 12 Recipes, by Cal Peternell, a chef at the legendary Berkley, Calif.-based restaurant Chez Panisse. The book purports to be the ideal beginner’s cookbook—a great gift or starting point for any one of my kitchen-averse friends. I disagree. 12 Recipes is a book even the experienced cook can enjoy—and learn from.

It’s also unlike any other cookbook I’ve ever seen. The title—12 Recipes— refers to the 12 things every home cook should know how to make: toast, eggs, beans, and so on. Think of it as a culinary core curriculum, with Peternell as your esteemed yet affable professor.

I decided to cook from his chapter on braising, a technique I don’t usually use. To braise, in general, means to cook meat (or vegetables) at a high temperature for a short time, then at a low temperature for a long time, often in a liquid. The chapter starts with a few paragraphs on why Peternell loves the technique—you use one pan so there’s low-level clean up and it’s economical since it works best on cheaper cuts of meat—then continues with a recipe for braised chicken legs. Finally he offers a handful of variations on the dish. You can, for example, use lamb, beef or pork instead of chicken, different spices and a plethora of liquids in which to cook your chosen protein.

I decided to make a braised pork shoulder (one of Peternell’s suggested cuts) with Moroccan spices and beer. I seasoned the pork with pinches of salt, pepper, cumin, coriander, paprika, cinnamon and caraway (no measuring spoons needed!) and dumped in a full bottle of pale ale—minus the glug I took.

While the meat cooked, and in need of a veggie side, I decided to make use of the abundant CSA Kholrabi in my fridge. I looked online for a recipe, but finding none that appealed to me, I made up my own: Curried Kholrabi French Fries. I peeled off the green outer layers, sliced the white insides into skinny rectangles and tossed them in curry powder and salt. Then I arranged them in a single layer on a lightly oiled baking sheet. I pulled the meat out of the oven to rest, turned up the heat to 400 degrees, and cooked the fries for about 30-35 minutes, until they were tender and crisped at the edges. The result? Imagine a cross between roasted cauliflower and sweet potato fries—addictive and delicious.

As for the pork, it came out fork tender, with a spicy, caramelized crust and rich vegetable-scented gravy. I served it with rice (a concession to my kids), the fries and a Mache salad dressed with Peternell’s shallot and sherry vinaigrette (so mind-blowing it deserves a shout-out—see below).
It’s been several years since Max and I argued about my non-chef status. Since then, I’ve learned that there is no shame in being “just a cook”—unless, perhaps, you are a terrible one. And even then, with a cookbook like 12 Recipes on hand, it’s unlikely you’ll be terrible for long.

Braised Chicken Legs

 

There are two steps in the braising process: the tasty browning and the tender cooking. Here the chicken is browned in a skillet first, then cooked to tenderness either in the oven or on the stovetop. Dusting the seasoned meat with all-purpose flour thickens the braising liquid and results in a rich, gravy-like sauce. Using stock will give you the most flavorful dish, but water really does work well, especially if you help it out with plenty of flavor from spices and fresh herbs. Wine gives the stew roundness, complexity, and welcome acidity. Beer-cooked chicken has roots in Europe as well as in China and the Americas and renders an earthy, grainy, bitter/fruity flavor, depending on the type of beer used.

The onion can stand alone if you don’t have the carrots and celery, but get some for next time—they are so good in so many things and when in the sweet midst of their individual seasons, each can step forward from the trio and take their solo.

• 5 chicken legs (drumstick and thigh together)
• 1 1/2 teaspoons salt
• Freshly ground black pepper
• All-purpose flour, for dredging
• 4 tablespoons vegetable oil or butter
• 3/4 cup white or red wine, beer, chicken stock (page 206), or water
• 1 yellow onion, diced
• 1 large carrot, diced
• 2 celery stalks, diced
• 2 garlic cloves, chunked, chopped, or sliced
• Roughly chopped leaves from 3 thyme, rosemary, or sage sprigs
• 1 bay leaf
• 3 cups chicken stock (page 206) or water
• Finely chopped leaves from
• 6 parsley sprigs

Season the chicken legs well with 1 teaspoon each of the salt and pepper and let them sit for a while, 15 minutes to an hour (or, best, overnight in the refrigerator to absorb the seasoning). Unless you’re cooking in the tropics or there’s a hungry, ill-trained dog capable of counter jumping, they need not be refrigerated. Leash that dog and dredge the chicken legs: Put the flour into a bowl or, better, a deep cake pan (the high sides make for less flour-dusting of the kitchen floor), add the chicken legs, and tumble them around so they get completely coated. Shake off all excess flour or it will burn in the skillet and that greasy burned-toast smell will stick. Don’t flour more than you can fry at a go, so depending on the size of your skillet, you may have to work in batches.

Heat a skillet over high and when it’s nice and hot but not smoking, add 2 tablespoons of the oil and then, pretty quickly, the legs. This is an important part: if you leave the oil alone in the hot skillet for long, it will burn and give the braise an off taste. So carefully but swiftly place the floured legs in the hot oil and adjust the heat so that they’re sizzling nicely, not ferociously. Leave them in place; don’t move them any more than needed to make them fit snugly in the skillet. Add more oil if it looks dry. When you can see them getting brown around the edges, after about 5 minutes, turn them over. You’re not trying to cook them through at this stage, so when they are browned all over, about 3 minutes more, set the legs aside. Turn off the heat under the skillet and turn the oven on to 450˚F.
Unless it looks too dark and burned, it’s time to add some liquid to simmer up all the sweet and flavorful bits that are sticking to the skillet.

First pour off all the grease and then return the skillet to medium heat and deglaze by adding the wine and scraping with a wooden spoon as it bubbles. When it’s all dissolved and dislodged, pour the deglazing liquid into a bowl and set aside. (If the skillet is in fact too burned, just wash it out and skip the deglazing step, adding the wine later when the legs go back in.) Add the remaining 2 tablespoons oil, the onion, carrot, and celery, and the remaining 1/2 teaspoon salt. Cook for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add the garlic, thyme, and bay leaf and cook for a minute, and then return the chicken to the pan, skin side up, along with the reserved deglazing liquid and stock or water. Bring to a simmer and put the skillet in the oven. After 5 minutes, lower the heat to 325˚F. (Or you can skip the oven and simmer, covered loosely, on a low burner.) Cook until very tender, 30 to 40 minutes.

Test for doneness by inserting a slender-bladed knife into the meat. It should pull out easily with very little grab. If the knife sticks, cook for 10 minutes more. Check again, and when done, remove from the oven, lift the legs from the skillet, and set them aside. Pour the contents of the skillet into a small, deep-sided bowl to allow the fat to rise for 5 minutes. With a small ladle, skim off the floating grease layer. Recombine the braising liquid and vegetables with the chicken skin side up, bring back to a simmer, and pop back into the oven for 5 minutes. Sprinkle with the chopped parsley, and eat right away, or save to reheat later.

Shallot and Sherry Vinaigrette

We love to eat well-dressed salads of hearty greens on the same plate as roasted chicken (Chapter 9) or braised pork (page 222) or duck legs (page 219). This simple vinaigrette makes especially good company for meats of all sorts, the sherry vinegar mixing politely with the juices while the pickle-y shallots contribute pungent and acidic asides.

• 1 small shallot
• Good pinch of salt (about 1⁄8 teaspoon)
• 1 teaspoon red wine vinegar
• 1 teaspoon sherry vinegar
• 1/2 teaspoon Dijon mustard
• Freshly ground black pepper
• 3 tablespoons olive oil

Peel and mince the shallot in a tiny imitation of dicing an onion (page 12). Mix with the salt, vinegars, mustard, and pepper and let sit for 5 minutes to marinate and temper the shallot. Stir in the olive oil with a fork or a whisk: if it thickens and emulsifies, fine; if not, also fine—just stir before using.

And voila! A gorgeous meal for everyone!

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Ed Anderson; Tatiana Boncompagni