What do I do with this chicken?

 

Rotisserie chicken is one of the modern conveniences I’ve really come to appreciate. For a while, I was a bit resistant—yes, it tasted good, but it was such a chore to skin and bone it. I’d bring it home from the grocery, stash it in the fridge, and try to ignore it for a few days. Then Jordan taught me a hack—bone it while it’s still warm from the store. Meat slides right off the bone. So much easier! Now we keep one or two baggies of chicken, boned, skinned, and diced, in the freezer. Want to make a casserole? Just whip it out and defrost.

One night recently I was expecting a dinner guest from out of town, not one of the regulars on my patio happy hours or dinners. I wanted to make a good impression, but it wasn’t a steak-and-twice-baked potato kind of an evening. So, I decided on a chicken casserole. Then I had to choose between two favorites. Here’s what I did:

Baked chicken salad casserole – serves four to six

2 c. chopped chicken

3 hard-boiled eggs, grated or sliced (your choice—I prefer sliced, because I like getting chunks of hard-boiled white)

2 cans cream of mushroom soup

½ Tbsp. lemon juice

¾ c. mayonnaise

2 tsp. salt

2 c. chopped celery

4 tsp. minced onion (I used green onion)

Potato chips, crushed

Layer the chicken and eggs in a 9x13 pan. Mix everything else separately and pour over the meat and eggs. Top with crushed potato chips and bake at 375^o for 30 minutes. Watch and don’t let the chips burn.

I halved this—sort of guessing on the generous side at the mayo and lemon juice. It served two for dinner and gave me enough leftovers for two lunches.

Strangely enough, the other recipe on my mind was also a baked chicken salad, but this with curry. I used to fix it frequently when I had teenagers and have more recently used it as a company dish.

Curried chicken salad with broiled topping – serves four to six

3 c. cooked chicken, diced

2 c. celery, diced

½ c. thinly sliced green onions

1/3 c. vinaigrette dressing

2 tsp. curry powder

¾ c. mayo

½ c. sour cream

Salt and pepper

2 c. finely crushed potato chips

1 c. coarsely shredded sharp cheddar

Combine first chicken, celery, and onions, and marinate in salad dressing, refrigerated, one hour. Blend curry powder, mayonnaise, sour cream, salt and pepper and combine with chicken, celery, scallions. Cover loosely and chill. Put in shallow broiler-proof baking dish. Cover salad with mixed chips and cheese and broil about three minutes until cheese melts. The goal is to have a cold salad topped with melted cheese and chips. If you happen to be so lucky as to have a Corningware dish in an appropriate size, you can use it and go straight from fridge to broiler. Otherwise, it’s best to spoon the chilled salad into an ovenproof dish before adding the topping.

Serve with a green vegetable, such as broccoli, asparagus, or green beans, and bread if you wish.

Enjoy!

 

 

How to build your own deli sandwich

 

Recently, I came across directions for building a six-foot sub (or call it a hoagie or a deli sandwich or whatever you want). I cannot imagine I’d ever need a six-foot sub, feeding thirty or more, but just in case…. Recipes come with a warning you need a van or truck to get the special-order six-foot loaf home and a six-foot table to work on. And it takes two people to flip the top layer onto the sandwich. You begin to get an inkling of why ready-made these things cost upward of $175.

Fortunately, you can make a smaller version at home pretty cheaply and without a lot of cooking or dirty dishes. Last night a friend was coming for an overdue visit—and a bit of business over a piece of writing she was helping me with. I offered dinner; she declined until I told her how I make sandwiches. Then she said, “That sounds wonderful,” and showed up at my door at five o’clock.

Reading those recipes gave me some good tips. The great thing about these sandwiches is that you can use whatever ingredients you want, leave out the things you don’t want, tailor it to your taste. Here’s a basic outline of what you need:

Bread or bun (I used sliders a lot, but the filling tends to spill out; a conventional hamburger bun might work better; of course you can always use Italian bread, but don’t use a baguette—too skinny, no room for filling.

Condiments – mustard, mayo, ketchup, whatever

Assorted cold cuts—ham, roast beef, turkey, chicken, salami, pastrami, bologna, corned beef; try to use two or three

Assorted cheeses—again use two or three, cheddar, American, Swiss, provolone, etc.

Tomato

Lettuce – head lettuce, shredded

Parmesan or pecorino, grated

Vinaigrette (see recipe below)

Oregano – just a sprinkling, dried

Optional: pickles, relish, olives, olive salad, whatever (if you add olives, you are entitled to call it a muffuletta)

My choices are pretty conventional, and I don’t always follow my own advice about two or three meats and cheeses. Instead, I pile on several slices of ham and at least two of provolone.

It’s important to begin by putting a layer of mayo or mustard on both sides of your bread or bun. Some people use mustard on one side and mayo on the other. This layer acts as a barrier and keeps the bread from getting soggy (not completely, especially if you use vinaigrette, but it does help). Then pile on in the order above. Be sure to chop the lettuce finely; works much better than a couple of floppy, big, old pieces. And slice the tomato thin, so it says in place.

This sandwich is standard—until you get to oregano, Parmesan or pecorino, and vinaigrette, but they make all the difference. Sprinkle dried oregano lightly—you want to taste it but not be overwhelmed. Be a bit generous with the grated cheese and careful with the vinaigrette which you pour over last. It will still make your sandwich a bit soggy. Here’s the vinaigrette my family likes on everything, from grilled salmon to sandwiches (I may have posted it recently; if so, forgive the duplication).

¼ c. olive oil

2 Tbsp. red wine vinegar

2 Tbsp. lemon juice

1 clove garlic, pressed

1 tsp. Dijon mustard

½ tsp. salt

¼ tsp. pepper

My family loves these sandwiches and sometimes requests them for supper.

 

 

 

Another retro dinner

 

You may remember, if you read this blog frequently, that a few months ago I cooked dinner for Christian’s friend (and mine), Gary. Like me, Gary holds in his heart some of the dishes his mom cooked when he was young. He particularly liked tuna casserole, so that’s what we had. I think the Burtons ordered in Mexican. Christian does not eat tuna in any shape or form, and Jordan has announced that tuna belongs in salad, cold. She will not eat any dish with cooked tuna. Gary and I had a lovely dinner. (I can’t speak for what Christian’s mother fixed, apparently not tuna, but I do know that Jordan was raised eating tuna casserole.)

A bit later I fixed myself Chicken Divan from a recipe I’ve had for years. When I was a single parent, I saved this dish for nights the children were out of the house, and I was cooking for a male friend. When I mentioned how good it was, Gary said he loves Chicken Divan—it had to be our next dinner. So it’s on the menu this Sunday night. Jordan has declined, and Christian does not eat broccoli. He asked if we could substitute for the broccoli, like maybe potatoes. I explained color, taste, and texture would all be off. Nope, Chicken Divan needs the broccoli. Maybe you could do spinach but never even green beans (which he only likes canned). I suggested that he could eat the chicken without the broccoli, but I think they are eating turkey burgers. Jacob may well like the main dish. He loves broccoli.

This is a recipe I got from a neighbor, handwritten, so I have no idea about the origin. But it’s delicious and not difficult. One problem though is that back in the eighties things came packaged differently than they do today. The recipe calls for two 10-oz. packages of frozen broccoli spears. I cannot find them on the Central Market web site, so I used a broccoli crown, though my mom would frown at me not getting the stems. (Mom believed in waste not, want not. She used to slice the stem, sauté quickly in butter and splash with soy; they were delicious.) I tell myself it’s always better to use fresh when you can instead of frozen or canned.

The picture above is not mine, but you get the idea of the dish and it satisfies the algorithms.

Chicken Divan

2 10-oz. pkgs. frozen broccoli spears

¼ c. butter or margarine

6 Tbsp. flour

½ tsp. salt

Dash of pepper

2 c. chicken broth

½ c. whipping cream

3 Tbsp. white wine

3 chicken breasts, halved and cooked

¼ c. Parmesan cheese

 Cook broccoli and drain. Melt butter and blend in the flour, along with salt and pepper. Add chicken broth and cook until mixture thickens and bubbles. Stir in cream and wine. Place broccoli crosswise in a 12x7½x2 dish. Pour half the sauce over. Top with chicken and pour remaining sauce over it. Top with Parmesan.

An elegant company dish. Wonder if I can interest Gary in Tuna Florentine next?

 

Company-perfect pork

 

I’m having fun revisiting some dishes that I used to make when I was feeding four teenagers. Is thirty years old enough to make a recipe retro? Not too long ago I did a tuna casserole for a friend who had fond memories of that dish from his childhood. Now he wants chicken divan, and I’m looking forward to fixing that. But both dishes have ingredients that are not on the Burton-approved list—tuna for all, and broccoli for Christian.

On the other hand, the other night I fixed pork medallions in a creamy tarragon sauce—everyone cleaned their plates and, far as I could tell, liked it. But what was most fun was that as I was cooking, Jordan said, “That smells familiar.” I think it was the tarragon, which is not an herb we use often.

I can’t even tell how old this recipe is. The original was so fragile that I photocopied it—and lost the source and date. But not the headline that bills it as quick! and company perfect! The recipe calls for one and a quarter lbs. of pork tenderloin—and right there we have a problem. For this family of four, with a teenage boy who grows daily before our eyes, one is not enough. And two is too much. The other night, I cooked two, and we had six pieces left over—great for lunch the next day.

Here’s what I did:

Pork medallions with tarragon sauce

1-1/4 lbs. pork tenderloin

1 Tbsp. Dijon mustard

2 Tbsp. butter

Salt

½ c. beef broth

½ tsp. dried tarragon

½ c. half-and-half

Pepper

           First, slice the tenderloin into medallions. I didn’t do this, but I think if you could start with them slightly frozen, they would be easier to slice. The silver “skin” on tenderloins is particularly difficult and may require scissors. Cut the tenderloin into 1-1/2 inch pieces and flatten slightly.

Coat one side of each piece lightly with the mustard (best to put that Tbsp. of mustard into a small dish so that you are not dipping a knife, fresh from raw meat, back into the jar and contaminating all the mustard).

Melt 2 Tbsp. butter in skillet and add medallions, mustard-side down. Sprinkle meat with salt. Reduce heat to medium and cook five minutes. Using tongs, turn each piece and cook another five minutes. Remove meat from skillet and keep warm.

Add beef broth and tarragon to drippings in the pan. Scrape to loosen all the brown bits from the bottom of the pan. Cook until broth is reduced by about half. Add half-and-half. Recipe says simmer until slightly thickened, but it never will thicken much. Next time I think I’ll dissolve ½ tsp. corn starch in a tiny bit of cold water and add to the sauce, stirring over low heat until it thickens. The flavor as we had It was great, but I prefer a more gravy-like sauce with the meat. Return meat to skillet, add pepper to taste, and heat gently. Do NOT let it boil or your sauce will curdle.

We served this with noodles and salad, but it would also be good with Christian’s green beans.

Christian’s green beans

4 slices bacon – reserve grease

2 cans cut green beans, or equal amount of fresh, washed and trimmed of ends and strings

Cider vinegar to taste

Fry the bacon until crisp. Drain on paper towel. Leave the grease in the skillet. Dump in the drained green beans and heat. Splash with cider vinegar—about a Tbsp. Taste and add more if needed. Crumble bacon over beans, stir and serve.

Confession: I forgot to take a picture—and the medallions looked so good in the skillet. The picture above is for the algorithms and approximates what our dinner looked like but without the sauce.

Lock your car doors!

 

We have what I call “night visitors” in my neighborhood—people who visit driveways in the wee hours of the morning, testing car doors to see if they’re locked. So when I read a warning about locking car doors and telling your neighbors to do so, I took it seriously—at first. But it morphed into that old joke that if you don’t lock your car this time of year, your neighbors will slip in zucchini and squash from their over-abundant gardens. It’s true. This is the time of year when the supply is inexhaustible. So here are two more recipes that I really like, these for side dishes rather than the main entrée.

If you remember eating at a Black-eyed Pea restaurant, you no doubt remember the squash casserole. (I used to love the vegetable plate at those restaurants and was really sad to see the last one disappear from Fort Worth—there are apparently still two in Arlington TX.) The squash casserole is one of those dishes I tried too many times to make without a recipe, overly confident that I could achieve the same results. It was always too soupy or had too much bread filling. I finally gave up and followed a recipe. This may not be the Pea version, but it’s close.

Summer Squash casserole

1 lb. yellow summer squash, chopped

¼ c. water

¼ c. diced onion

2 Tbsp. butter, divided use

½ tsp. salt

1 egg, beaten

¼ c. dry breadcrumbs

Pepper to taste

½ c. shredded cheddar cheese

Bring squash and water to boil in a saucepan. Simmer, covered, for about fifteen minutes. Remove from heat and set aside. Drain if necessary. Meantime, sauté onion in one Tbsp. butter until soft and slightly caramelized. Add to squash. When the squash is cool, stir in the egg, breadcrumbs, remaining Tbsp. of butter (melted) and pepper. Spoon mixture into a small baking pan and cover with grated cheese. Bake, uncovered, at 350 for 20-30 minutes until heated through and cheese is melted.

This zucchini casserole could almost be called a variation of the same recipe. Although it calls for Parmesan, I’m confident you could substitute cheddar if you wished.

Zucchini casserole

3 c. sliced zucchini

¼ c. sour cream

1 Tbsp. butter, melted

1 Tbsp. grated Parmesan

¼ tsp. each salt and paprika

1 beaten egg yolk

1 Tbsp. chives or finely chopped tops of green onions

Topping:

2 Tbsp. breadcrumbs

3 Tbsp. Parmesan

½ Tbsp. melted butter

Steam squash to the degree of tenderness you want, remembering it will cook more when baked. (If you like crunchy slices, you might want to leave it raw.) Mix sour cream. Melted butter, Parmesan, salt and paprika and heat until cheese melts. Let mixture cool a bit and then stir in beaten egg yolk and chives or green onion. Mix with zucchini slices. Spoon into buttered baking dish

Mix topping ingredients and spread evenly over the casserole. Bake uncovered at 350 for 30 minutes or until topping is browned.

Share with the neighbor who gave you the zucchini!

Those ubiquitous summer squashes

Stuffed half zucchini
That was one big squash!

My family was out of town most of last week, so of course I planned to cook the things they won’t eat. And high on that list are summer squash and zucchini. Personally, I think they haven’t explored the many possibilities of this summer bounty. They say it’s a texture matter, and if all they’ve ever tasted is steamed squash, I’m with them. (I don’t really think they’ve tasted at all—they’re just assuming they won’t like them; winter squash gets the same scorn, so I pass up all those good recipe for butternut and acorn squash.)

I had found a recipe online for zucchini stuffed with a tuna mixture. Since I had recently ordered a case of tuna—yep, twenty-four cans—I saw this as a win/win situation and included one large zucchini on my grocery order.

When I started to work with the recipe, I realized amounts were given in the metric system, mostly grams. I didn’t feel like spending an hour or more translating grams into cups and spoons, etc. So I scrapped the recipe and stuffed the zucchini the way I have always done it, but added tuna for more protein. Here’s what I did:

Ingredients

1 large zucchini

1 stalk celery, diced

3 green onions, diced

1 Tbsp butter

One 6 oz. can tuna in water

2 or 3 anchovy filets, (optional)

Salt and pepper to taste

½ tsp. thyme (optional)

One egg, beaten

1/4 cup grated sharp cheddar, plus more for topping

Panko

Ritz cracker crumbs

Parboil the zucchini. The one I had was so large, I used a deep skillet with a lid, because it wouldn’t fit whole in a saucepan. Do not trim the ends—keep all those good vitamins by cooking it whole. Leave it a bit firm as it will soften more during baking. Remove from water with tongs and let cool.

Meanwhile, sauté celery and onion in butter until soft. Remove from heat and stir in anchovy, mashing it into a paté. Add to tuna.

When zucchini is cool enough to handle, cut in half lengthwise and scoop out the meat in the center. This is easiest done by running a knife along the edge of the meat and then scooping it up with either a flat knife or a teaspoon. Dice the meat and add to tuna mixture.

Season to taste with salt and pepper and thyme, if using. Stir into tuna. Add egg and cheese. Stir to mix thoroughly and then add enough panko to hold the mixture together and give it body. Stuff into zucchini shells and top with more grated cheese and cracker crumbs. I prefer Ritz because they crumble so easily in a baggie, and they are so rich and good. Watching calories? You might prefer crushed saltines or more breadcrumbs.

Two hints: The zucchini halves will be overflowing with stuffing, and you’ll have to press the cheese and crumbs on to get them to stay. And you’ll have filling—just put it in a ramekin. It’s delicious, even outside the zucchini shells.

This will make a generous entrée for two with that ramekin left over for lunch.

If you’re a gardener and growing zucchini, this is the time of year when you leave anonymous bags of the vegetable on the neighbors’ porch or in their unlocked car. You’re probably tired of zucchini bread and zucchini fritters may not appeal. Try sautéing it, either sliced or grated, in butter with a good glug of soy sauce. Or look on the internet for zucchini bites or crisps—they’re a bit labor intensive but so good.

Those happy summer days of eating from the garden—or the farmers’ market—are almost over. Enjoy them while you can!

Something’s fishy

 

An embarrassingly amateurish photo
of filet of sole with asparagus

My family recently announced that they were ready to widen their menu horizons with the addition of some fish other than salmon, which we love and eat often. They mentioned halibut, which is expensive, and I’ve never successfully cooked. I think I have an awful memory of my mother poaching halibut in milk, but then, she would have been first to tell you she was not a good fish cook.

Tilapia is popular, but I will not cook it—and I am surprised to see it on upscale restaurant menus, where I feel the owner/chef should know better. Plain and simple: tilapia is bad for you. Because it is bottom-feeder and will eat any refuse, it causes inflammation and is particularly dangerous for patients with any of the auto-immune diseases, which seem to be more common every day. Tilapia is generally farm-raised, contains more toxic chemicals, is fed a synthetic diet, sometimes artificially colored.

A filet of sole is one of my favorite fish—mild with a delicate flavor. But it is also fragile. I’ve sauteed it for the family, trying for a nice crust, and more often than not ended with fish hash. So they said, “No more.” But one night recently it was to be dinner on your own, so I got a half pound of sole. About the same time, I saw a recipe for parmesan-crusted, lemon pepper tilapia. Great, I could just substitute sole. But the more I thought about it, the less appealing that recipe was. I don’t use lemon pepper—plain salt and pepper and a squeeze of lemon for me, thank you. Lemon pepper, again, is full of preservatives and things I don’t want to know about. And the idea of pressing parmesan into that delicate fish was challenging.

Two things I took away from the recipe: Bake the fish rather than sautéing it, and spread with a thin layer of mayonnaise to keep the fish moist and fix the parmesan to it. I decided against the mayo because I like the flavor of sole so much (but I will try the mayo trick with cod, and I hear it works on pork chops). So here’s what I did;

Baked filet of sole

Sole filets, about 1/3 lb. per person

Salt and pepper

Buttered panko or other breadcrumbs

Parmesan cheese

Line baking pan with foil and lay the fish out on it. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Top with breadcrumbs and some parmesan. Bake at 350 for 8-10 minutes (the filets are quite thin, and you don’t want to dry them out). Serve with lemon wedges. For a side, I sauteed some tiny, fresh asparagus in butter with a splash of soy.

Jordan came along and ate one of the four pieces I cooked. I ate two and had one for lunch today—it was just as good as last night, maybe better. In retrospect, though, I think I’d leave out the parmesan and just use the breadcrumbs.

So what fish will I cook for the family? I’m not sure. Cod and ocean perch are reasonably priced choices, though I’d probably stick with cod. It’s versatile, and you can do a lot with it. Branzino, or sea bass, is another good choice—hmmm, wonder if I could sell them on a whole roasted fish? If it has the head on, Jordan will have nothing to do with it, but I could have the fishmonger trim head and tail. I’ll watch for sales on halibut or red snapper or trout. And I bet more salmon will appear on our table—Christian loves to grill it.

Don’t be afraid of cooking fish. Remember one cardinal rule: overcooking it is a sin.