A Simple Chicken Paella

April 11, 2012 in Mains, Poultry

Paella, paella, paella.  This ranks pretty high on my list of favorite Spanish foods.  One of these days I’m going to get a true paella pan, and then bring it on a camping trip so I can prepare it over an open fire.  Its presentation is as beautiful as the melding of saffron flavor with everything in the pan.  Mmm.

My experience with paella has been limited to restaurants and the one time appearance of the dish on a friend’s table when her boyfriend (now fiancé) made a great Spanish feast (Did I mention he’s a legit Spaniard?).  Ordering out, I always opt for either the paella marisco (read “seafood paella”) or paella mixta (read “mixed paella,” a paella with both meat and seafood).  The seafood flavor in the dish does it for me.  It’s this layer of umami that’s distinctly “fresh ocean” romance.

In the version of paella I attempted, you will find no seafood.  The only reason this happened is because I didn’t have any on hand and it was terribly windy outside.

I don’t like driving in crazy winds.

I also had four defrosted chicken thighs sitting in my fridge.  Chicken it was!

I based my paella off of an “authentic” recipe I found doing some google-ing for Chicken Paella, which you will find here.  I honestly have no idea about the level of authenticity, but the ingredient list is simple, similar to other recipes, and I had everything on hand without having to make a trip to the store.

My rendition of Paella de Pollo, serves 4 (or more, with leftovers):

  • 4 skin-on, bone-in chicken thighs (or drumsticks, or enough chicken pieces to feed 4 people)
  • 1 yellow onion, diced
  • 1-2 cloves of garlic (however garlicky you want it)
  • 1-2 cups diced tomatoes (I used the rest of my heirloom cherry tomatoes. I’m estimating how much there actually was.)
  • 1 1/2 cups white rice (I used 2 cups, and ended up having way too much rice to fit in my pan comfortably.)
  • 3 1/2 cups chicken broth (I had used 5 cups, relative to my rice, and because my pan was filled to the brim, I didn’t get to boil off as much as I wanted in the beginning for fear of creating an epic mess.)
  • pinch of saffron
  • 1 T of paprika (because I felt it made it feel more Spanish)
  • 1/2 cup of flat leaf parsley
  • 3/4 cup peas (I used frozen.)
  • 1 red bell pepper sliced into “sticks”
  • salt, to taste
  • pepper, if you must
  • good tasting extra virgin olive oil (I used the lovely Spanish olive oil I received from a friend.)

 

First, cook the chicken.  If you are using, chicken thighs, I recommend viewing my previous post for pan-roasted chicken thighs.  Instead of finishing them in the oven, I fried them in the pan for about 12 minutes on both sides, until the juice was almost clear.  Set the chicken aside.

Drain the leftover fat, leaving about a tablespoon or two left in the pan.  Keeping the heat at a medium-high, sauté the onion, garlic, and tomatoes until the onion is translucent and the whole mess is fragrant.  Remember to season with salt!  I actually focused too much on getting pictures and not letting things burn that I completely forgot to salt the food throughout the entire process!

Add in the rice and sauté until the rice is opaque. (See my bit on sautéing rice in my Mexi-feast.)

Add in your paprika and parsley and stir.  Pour in your broth and add the saffron.  Stir.  Even out the surface of the rice and place the chicken on top.  The chicken should be partially submerged in the liquid.  This allows the pieces to finish cooking in a bit of a braise.

Bring to a boil and turn the heat down so it’s at a rapid simmer, almost boiling.  Let it go until the liquid reduces and the rice breaks through.  At this point, the rice should be about halfway cooked.  Add in your peas and CAREFULLY mix them into the rice.  It doesn’t have to be perfect, just get them mixed in so they’re not sitting on top all willy-nilly.

After a few minutes, add the red bell pepper sticks on top of everything. It’s your edible garnish, so arrange it so it also cooks evenly.  I cheated and covered this for a while, until the rice was completely done and the peppers were tender-crisp.

Since I made a total amateur mistake and forgot to salt as I went, I added generous pinches of salt at the end, and when serving.  Since I didn’t use the olive oil during the cooking process, I used it as a garnish when serving.  Just a drizzle packs a lot of flavor.

¡El fin!

 

Mexi-feast! Guacamole, Beans, Rice, and Carnitas

April 9, 2012 in Mains, Pork, Sides, Starters, Vegetable

The amount of Mexican food I ingest has increased exponentially ever since I relocated to the west coast.  I’ll take a burrito over a sandwich any day, and I’ll take carnitas over anything else to stuff into a warm tortilla.  When I make a mexi-feast at home, I’ll go for the typical plate of rice, beans, guacamole salad, and meat served with tortillas on the side.  I’ll take you through my average mexi-feast preparations that curb that craving for more bang to the buck.

Guacamole!

West coast living has spoiled me with the availability of avocados.  I remember ordering guacamole at a non-chain Mexican restaurant in Ohio for the first time since I had moved west.  It was truly one of the most disgusting things I had tasted called guacamole.  For this travesty, I didn’t blame the maker/restaurant too much, but mostly on the fact that it was December.  In Ohio.  Avocados aren’t as widely available as the sunnier states, and it definitely showed.  Word to the wise: only order guacamole in the Midwest if you see tons of avocados in your local grocery.

For this extremely simple guacamole you’ll need:

  • two or three ripe avocados
  • a clove or two of garlic
  • 1/4 cup chopped onion
  • lime juice (1-2 limes)
  • salt, to taste

Scrap out the flesh of the avocado into a bowl, and start mashing it with a fork.  When it looks mostly broken down, mix in everything else.  Adjust lime juice and add salt to taste.

To my final product, I actually added 1/4 cup of plain yogurt to stretch it out a little bit and to also experiment with the tangy taste.  It ended up being creamier and the yogurt tang added to the sourness of the lime, which was an OK move in my mind.

Voila!

Beans!

Budgeting has made me a dried bean believer!  Canned beans are small compact tins of highway robbery, so I try to keep a stock of dried pinto beans, chickpeas, and lentils in my cupboard at all times, ESPECIALLY lentils. (Lentils can be a cheap, healthy, and quick meal fix, like my Lentil Soup.)

With a little planning (one day before you plan to eat them) you can have homemade low sodium legumes to go in a soup, stew, or on their own.  Essentially, before you go to bed, soak your beans in the fridge.  When you get up the next morning, put them in a slow cooker and cook on low all day while you’re out and about.

For soaking, you’ll need:

  • beans
  • water (enough to cover your amount of beans by 3 inches)

First, rinse your beans.  You don’t really want to cook them with the dirt or dust that follows them wherever they go prior to your purchase.  Pick out any that look irregular.  Or just leave them.  I do.

Put then in a bowl and cover with enough water to put them under about 3 inches of water.  Set the beans  in the fridge overnight.

The next day, take your beans out and drain.  You don’t want to cook the beans in their soaking liquid.  Soaking actually helps remove the gassy properties of the beans.  True story.

The actual cooking of beans, you’ll need:

  • your soaked beans
  • water or broth
  • yellow onion
  • a couple of garlic cloves
  • a few bay leaves
  • 1/4 teaspoon cumin (optional)
  • bacon, salt pork, ham hock, something porky (optional, but highly recommended)

Slice your onion thinly, crush your garlic, chop your bacon, and toss them into the crock pot.  Add your bay leaves and dump in your beans.  Add your cumin, salt, whatever other seasonings.  Pour in enough liquid (water or broth) to cover your beans by about an inch or two.  Plug in your slow cooker and set it to low.  After about 8-10 hours, your beans will be cooked!

I added too much water when I cooked this batch, so I transferred them to a saucepan to reduce the liquid.

Rice!

Mexican rice is ridiculously easy.  Years ago, the fluffy loose texture was a tough nut to crack.  I always ended up with something along the lines of tomato steamed rice.  Then I discovered if I treated it like a rice pilaf, then my ideal would be much more attainable, and it was!

You’ll need:

  • 1 1/2 cups long grain white rice (I use jasmine for everything because I buy it 25 pounds at a time.)
  • olive oil
  • 2 cups chicken broth
  • 1 cup water + 3-4 tablespoons tomato paste*
  • oregano (optional)
  • cilantro (optional)

*Can be substituted with one cup of tomato sauce.

Heat about 2 (chef’s) tablespoons of olive oil in a skillet (with a tight fitting lid) on medium-high heat. While that is heating up, thin your tomato paste in the cup of water and set aside. When the oil is hot, pour in the rice and give it a stir to coat the grains with oil.

Every minute or so, give it a stir.  I personally like to do the shake, dip, and flip, because it makes me feel like a pro.  Sauté the rice until it looks opaque.

Pour in the chicken broth and thinned tomato paste.  Pour it over the rice, and NOT directly on the pan.  This will most likely immediately boil and steam and be loud, so it may or may not scare you.  Stir it around.

If you’re using dried herbs, toss them in now, if not, ignore.  Bring the rice to a boil, cover, then set to low to simmer for about 20-30 minutes or until the rice is cooked through.  After it’s finished, I normally let it keep going until some rice sticks to the bottom and I have to scrape up some lightly crisped rice.  Then I know that all of the liquid has been absorbed.

If you’re using fresh herbs, chop them finely, and stir them in as soon as the rice is finished.

The main event: carnitas!

Carnitas are like a gift from heaven.  A once mystifying delicacy that is, well, I guess, still mystifying, but in a different way.  Instead of “how do they?” it’s more like “how does it?”  Pork + salt + water + citrus + low and slow braise + unknown supernatural occurrence (which is probably frying in fat) = Carnitas!

You’ll need:

  • 3-4 pound boneless pork shoulder, fat NOT trimmed
  • salt
  • lime juice
  • water

Feel free to salt and marinade the shoulder overnight in lime juice.  Feel free to not.  If you don’t, DO rub the shoulder with a generous amount of salt and fresh squeezed lime juice.

The method of cooking is braising, the means is up to you.  If you want to do it in a slow cooker, put the meat in the pot and add enough liquid to just come up the side of the meat by an inch.  Use water, more lime juice, or orange juice.  Cook it on low for 8-10 hours or high for 4-6.  When it’s done (falling apart at the slightest touch of a fork), transfer to a deep skillet.  If you want to do it in a dutch oven, put the meat in the pot and add enough liquid to just come up the side of the meat by an inch.  Preheat your oven to 300.  On the stove, heat is up until you have an almost boiling, put the lid on, then turn the heat down so it simmers.  As soon as your oven is preheated, VERY CAREFULLY pick up the heavy pot and transfer it to the middle rack of the oven (or whatever rack so that it fits).  Set a timer for 2 1/2-3 hours.  When the meat is fall apart tender, take it out an put it back on the stove.

Depending on how much liquid is still there, you can either dump out most of it, or let it simmer, lid off, until it evaporates out.  It’s up to you.  I let it evaporate out until it looks like all that is left is melted fat.

Then let it keep cooking until all the liquid is fat.  Then turn the heat up to medium and start the frying process.

Getting some crispiness and color!

I start to see more smoke than I’d like and decide to call it done.

Eat!

After all of these things are prepared, it’s time to put them together and feast!

Sticky Sweet Biko!

March 29, 2012 in Desserts

Sometimes I get these cravings that come from what seems like no real rational place. Maybe it’s like scent memory, but working in the opposite direction where something subconsciously triggers a desire for a particular foodstuff.  This time around I was stunned by a deep hunger pang that could only be satisfied by that sticky and sweet Filipino rice dessert, BIKO.

This is something that’s I’ve grown up with.  Always on the lengthy buffet table at pretty much any gathering where the ratio of Filipinos to everybody else is at least 1:1, it’s usually in some circular bamboo basket lined with banana leaves.  Often times it will be in tandem with ube (we’ll get to that some other time) or leche flan (a.k.a. leche plan).  Growing up, whenever my mom made it, it was usually one of two versions.  The one I saw most of was a layer of sticky rice cooked in coconut milk, covered by a layer of condensed milk that browned when baked in the oven.  The second one was a rare occurrence; it was a little more involved.  My mom had to make sure the whole thing didn’t burn by constantly stirring as the rice cooked on the stovetop resulting in a stiff viscous ball.  The molten mass (it is extremely hot sugar we’re talking about here) is then transferred to a dish or mold, pressed, and left to cool.  This is the rendition I took a stab at this time around.

I used the biko recipe from a fantastic Filipino cuisine site Panlasang Pinoy.  In my version, I halved it, and used slightly less sugar overall, as well as part brown sugar and part cane sugar.

Biko!

  • 1 cup sticky/glutinous/sweet rice
  • 1 1/4 cup water
  • 1/2 cup dark brown sugar
  • 1/4 cup regular sugar (I recommend using an unbleached sugar)
  • 1 14 oz. can of light coconut milk
  • A few pinches of sea salt
  • butter or cooking oil (for greasing)

Put the water and rice in a rice cooker and let cook until cycle is finished.  If you don’t have a rice cooker, then pour the rice and water in an accommodating sauce pan. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, then turn the flame to low-medium, cover and let simmer for about 15-20 minutes, or until the water looks like it is completely absorbed.

Lightly grease a dish or mold, whatever you have on hand that is about the size of a pie dish.

In a second pan (I used a skillet with 3 inch walls) pour in the coconut milk and sugars and heat on medium-high to get the sugar melted.  I recommend stirring with a wooden spoon to avoid burning the sugar that’s resting on the bottom of the pan.  I emphasize a wooden spoon because plastic can actually melt from the heat of the sugar.

Once it starts to bubble, turn the heat to medium. When it looks fully incorporated, it will look like a mocha color and be of a slightly thicker consistency.  Add the salt.

Add the semi-cooked rice and break up the rice if necessary.  Now comes the fun part.  Stir, stir, stir!  Don’t let the bottom sit still for too long or it will burn.  Burned sugar is great for some things, but not this.  Cook it until the liquid is evaporated/absorbed by the rice.  This will be stiff and almost form a ball when you stir it.

Pour it into your prepared dish and press the rice into it.  Let it cool on the counter.  When it’s a tolerable temperature, either warm or room temperature, eat it!