Deconstructed Chicken - Thighs

The last time I wrote about chicken, I'd bought some to cure my hypochondria and there were leftovers. I'm glad to report that, through the wonders on medical science (read: a good nap), I now feel fine. There was still chicken leftover in the freezer last night and I thought I'd try to get rid of some. I've been buying a lot of food recently, without any sort of plan. It's time to clear out the stuff I can still use. Those cucumbers, on the other hand - time to send them to cucumber heaven.

My plan was simple: throw frozen thighs in oven, turn oven on, walk away. I think this kind of thing works better with a Crock-Pot. Well, 2 hours later, it still seemed OK. There was a little bit of liquid I needed to reduce, so I am skeptical about any sort of time-saving my plan provided but, at least I was able to do other stuff in the meantime. I could have just as easily done that other stuff while I was defrosting things, but this is something we don't like to speak about.

Miso Frozen Chicken
2 Chicken Thighs, straight from the freezer
2 Tbsp red miso
1 tsp minced garlic
1 tsp minced ginger
1 c water

Mix miso paste with garlic & ginger.
Place chicken thighs in a 180° oven, add water. After ca. 1 hour, add miso mix. After a further hour, take chicken out of oven. Reduce sauce on stove. Serve with sauce.

I served everything with some steamed asparagus with soy sauce, and some mashed sweet potatoes, flavoured with sesame oil & scallions. I think that was one of the last "oven dishes" for a while. I'm going to start 1) defrosting things in a timely manner & 2) start using the grill now that the weather is better.

Weekend Fritatta

I love the smell of fritattas in the morning. Smells like... the weekend! My weekends usually start with sleeping in, eggs, and a trip to the weekly farmers market. My fallback weekend breakfast is the fritatta. I've never been able to fold an omlette and they always turn out as "scrambled eggs with stuff in them". The fritatta is much easier - no folding, normally finished off in the oven but for lazy souls like myself, can even be flipped with a plate, and finished on the stove.

I came across the fritatta about 18 months ago, which you can read about here. Since then, I have read 2 very convincing pieces on the benefits of eggs, one from a dermatologist & general expert for beauty magazines, Dr. Graf; the other from what I deemed a more convincing source, the Health section of the NY Times. The 2 sources both had recipes for healthy fritattas, which led me to the dish I look forward to all week, my weekend fritatta - the collection of everything I can find in my fridge.

Weekend Fritatta
1 small potato
1 tsp miced garlic
3 Tbsp prepared kale
3 Tbsp prepared spinach (can be substiuted by fresh baby leaves, if in season)
5 free range or organic eggs
4 seeded, chopped cherry tomatoes
3 sundried tomatoes
1 Tbsp capers, roughly chopped
1 Tbsp black olives, roughly chopped.
pecorino cheese
grilled red peppers for garnish

Wash potoato, do not peel it. Chop potato into pieces, place in pan with cold, salted water. Bring to a boil, drain. Potatoes should still be hard.
Sautee garlic, as well as prepared kale and spinach. If using fresh spinach, do not sautee - reserve for later.
Mix sauteed ingredients with eggs, potatoes, tomatoes, olives, capers. Pour into frying pan & cook, covered on low heat. If using fresh spinach, add spinach too the top of the egg mixture. After 10-15 minutes, small bubbles should form & the surface should look more solid. Slide fritatta onto plate, flip & continue to cook for a few more minutes, or until fritatta slides around the pan easily.
Grate pecorin cheese on top, garnish with roasted red peppers.

This is my fallback, but I make it on Saturday mornings before I get to the market, using whatever I have around. I often use frozen greens, sometimes I throw in some peas, sometimes some sauteed onions - it's breakfast, not rocket science. And it keeps me going for hours.

I'll be BlOgging this Omelet (see BlOg yOur Omelet). The prize is Iberian Ham, and even though I already have some, you can never have too much ham.

Let Me Tell You About My Ham

It all started on the beach of Castelldefels, outside of Barcelona. I was in one of the restaurant/containers on the promenade & I wanted lunch. When in Spain, one does not eat sandwiches. One eats bocadillos - crispy baguette-like rolls with 1 - 2 fillings (ham or cheese). I saw the bocadillos with Serrano ham, as well as Jamon Iberico. I went for the Jamon Iberico, even though I didn't know what it was; "Iberian Ham" - when in Iberia... It was a 9€ sandwich, and completely worth it. Ever since then, I have scoffed at Jamon Serrano, even though it is much easier to find. Jamon Iberico, the more elusive ham, is a different variety of pig, it is feed a different diet, and is aged longer. In the last 6 months, I have bought 2 hams (one shoulder, one rear leg) and my life seems to revolve around it - making sure it doesn't melt in the morning sun, worrying about it while I'm on vacation - I'm into my ham.

Last night, I needed to cook the monster asparagus I bought from the farm. They were giant stalks, at least 1 1/2 " in diameter. I wasn't all that into making a soup or crepes or anything phenomenally out of the world. I just wanted to use the asparagus as long as it was still good. I opted for a variation of a German classic: boiled asparagus, boiled potatoes and cooked ham, all with Hollandaise sauce. Instead of a hollandaise, I used the wild leek pistou I have kicking around, and tossed the potatoes in that. And instead of cooked ham, I used my Jamon Iberico, which has been drying on my kitchen table for the last 3 weeks.

A little bit of lemon juice for the potatoes and the asparagus - Mucho yummy!

Snail-Speed Ahead!

Last year, on a rainy evening, I was walking down a country road. My companion, a city-boy with a softspot for animals, saw something on the side of the road, in the grass. It didn't look like a worm. "What is that?"
"Oh my God, it's a tasty!"
"A tasty?"
"An escargot. A Weinbergschnecke. A snail. Put them in garlicy butter & Mmmm!"

Later on that same walk, we found an abundance of escargots. If we'd had a bag (or a clue) we would have picked up all the snails we saw & eaten them. Later, at home, of course.

We sat down and thought about farming our own snails. There are not too many relevant online resources available, unless you are in Nigeria & want to do it for financial reasons. I am in Germany and I want to do it for gastronomic reasons. Or because I like to have my own little experiments, I'm not sure which.

Until the day that I can harvest my own snails (or at least feel confident enough in my knowledge to cook the snails I find in the springtime on my own) I will make do with the frozen ones I find in the freezer section of the supermarket. They're kind of cute - they come in a little wooden basket & are in the shells.

The only thing that I have of my own which is worth sharing is the pseudo-snail-pan I create out of tin foil to prevent the snails from rolling around while in the oven. I just wrap foil around the shells in a labyrinthine manner to lend them a bit of stability. The garlic butter stays put, and it's all a little treat with a crusty bread, a salad and a bottle of white wine. The sort of special-casual meal that invites you to sit a while, snack & exchange agriculture ideas.

Codes, Rules, Instructions

I finally got around to reading The Code, a set of ethical rules/regulations/recommendations for food bloggers. While I think this is a good idea, it amazes me that there is a necessity for such a code.

The princinples of the code are as follows:

1. Be accountable
2. Be nice
3. Be honest

Aren't there certain things that are just understood? While I am new to blogging, I am not new to writing, and I believe that most bloggers, foodies or otherwise, have been taught to do all of these things. It may have been a lesson in Kindergarten including sharing or something. Maybe it's another one of my overestimations of humanity that will cause me to be crushed and disappointed when I see that this is not the case.

I decided that tonight, I will actually follow a "code". Recipes are models, which you have to be able to read, that is, you have to be able to decipher the code.
While I can come to terms with rules of writing, I still have issues with following instructions. Nonetheless, I tried my best to follow this recipe for Stir-Fried Snow Peas With Soba.

Here is photographic evidence of the fact that I can't follow directions. The gustatory evidence can only be described as: I put in more hot red pepper oil to my taste than suits most other people's taste. I still thought the peanut sauce was awesome, and I have been asked to do it again, just "tone it down a little".

This kind of writing code I can deal with very easily. What I have difficulties dealing with is the code of recipes. OK - it's more like my inability to follow directions. But the code? Being a responsible writer? This is easy.

Chicken - Dissected

This has nothing to do with the H1N1 virus, I assure you. I'm fairly confident it has nothing to do with my hypochondria either. I either have a leftover of my allergies, or I'm getting a cold. Just to be safe, I am taking my vitamins and eating chicken noodle soup.

The chicken was a completely unnecessary purchase, I admit. I already went back out to the goat farm to get another kilo of baby goat (don't ask me when I plan on eating it - the main thing is that the baby goats will grow up soon so they must stock my freezer now), as well as shrimp, lamb and escargot, ready whenever I am. I do not need chicken. I do not have room for chicken. But I want chicken, and this is the important thing.

At the local supermarket, I planned on buying about 1 pound of meat, making a soup out of half of it and putting the other half in the freezer. The problem with my plan is, if you wait until 15 minutes before the supermarket closes, they often do not have the fresh items you want. The veggie selection looked picked over and the fruit all looked sad. The only chicken I could find was either premarinated & ready to grill (don't ask me what they marinate it in, I don't want to think about it), and whole chickens.

Full of hypochondria, I selected the whole chicken and make my way back home. I imagined that one could cut the bird into breasts, legs, wings & rest. Somehow, thanks to my amazing Zwilling knives and in spite of my skills, I managed to separate the bird into exactly these parts.

Spicy Chicken Noodle Soup
For the soup, I used the wings & "rest" (back) of chicken.
I heated these parts in a large pot until the fat melted.
I added garlic, ginger, lemongrass, chillies and galagant (all minced), sautéing the spices.
I added about 2 litres of water, 2 lime leaves, put the lid on & walked away for an hour or so.
I took the chicken out of the broth, let it cool for a bit, pulled off them meat, added it back to the soup, discarding the bones.
While cooking 100g of mie noodles, I then added about 1 cup of coconut milk and a bit of fish sauce to the soup.
I then added the noodles, the juice of 1/2 lemon & served with cilantro & bean sprouts.

It's been a while since I've been stuffed on soup. I love light Asian broths that have you slurping and splashing and constantly refilling your bowl. I feel a lot better, less coughing, no stuffy sinuses. The only thing is, I have to figure out what to do with the rest of the chicken.

Kid Goat, Taken from Mom

Through a series of unfortuntate events, I tried to escape work early after work before a long weekend, and instead found myself at the local goat farm. All I can say is that Deutsche Bahn (German Rail) was not working well yesterday.

Normally, I visit the goat farm's stand at my local farmer's market, but while I was out in the middle of nowhere, why not pop by the farm itself? As coincidence would have it, I was at the farm exactly 1 year ago for a wine & cheese tasting, where I got a tour of the farm. As a life-long city girl, I never really thought about where my cheese comes from. I know that goat cheese comes from goat milk and that mammals produce milk after children are born. Well, in order to ensure that the milk ends up as my cheese, and not as the food for some young kid, the "excess" kids are slaughtered, usually the males, as the females will produce more milk in later years. It all makes so much sense, and had I ever bothered to think about it, I would have figured if out on my own, I'm sure. Really.

Springtime is the time to get the young male kids. I did not grow up in a household with goat, but I have fond childhood memories involving my mother's excitement upon finding goat dishes in the most unusal places. Against my jeuvenile judgement, I tried the goat, and although I never insisted that my mom make it at home, I wasn't turned off by it. My mom is a picky eater, and if it's good enough for her, then it must be good.

The first thing I did after I bought my 600g rack of goat was call my mom. When I was at the farm, I told Stefanie (the lady of the farm) that my mom would be jealous. My mom wasn't exactly jealous, but she had more ideas then I knew what to do with. Ideally, I'll be buying meat exclusivly from the goat farm for the rest of the season. I never really listened to my mom in the first place, but she did give me some good ideas. And I think the next time she'll visit will be in springtime for goat season. If she cooks, I'll certainly welcome her visit.

Roasted Kid Goat
600g piece of kid goat back (loin with ribs - bone in)
1 lemon
1 Tbsp chopped thyme
1 tsp chopped rosemary
2 bay leaves
salt & pepper
1 tbsp minced garlic
1 c french apple cidre (or substitute water + 1 Tbsp honey)
2 bay leaves
4 sprigs fresh thyme

Grate zest off of lemon & set aside. Clean meat, if necessary. Squeeze lemon & wash meat in juice. Salt & pepper meat. Place meat, along with thyme, rosemary, lemon zest, garlic and2 bay leaves in ziploc bag and allow to marinate overnight, or at least 4 hours.

Put goat in pan, add a splash of cidre, along with 2 bay leaves and 4 spigs of fresh thyme. Roast goat at 220° for 10 minutes, then turn the heat to 180°. Add more cidre. After ca. 45 minutes, turn heat down to 150°, and continue to roast. Baste continually (or whenever you remember). Keep the thing in the oven for a total of 2 hours.

I was thrilled with the tenderness of the meat, as well as the slightly sweet sauce I got out of it. To accompany my springtime treat, I made some simple quinoa, tossed in the wild leek pistou my friend gave me. Right now, I'm so content that I've forgotten about yesterday's traffic troubles. I might even pop by the farm again on the way home from work. And, yes, I'll call my mom to tell her how to cook goat.