Flat Roasted Chicken with Lemon and Herbs

I rarely cook chicken. No, wait, scratch that. I almost never cook chicken. I'm afraid of it. And with good reason, might I add. It's a culinary minefield. If it's underdone, there's the danger of life-threatening illness. If it's overdone, it's dry and horrible. For years I have found every conceivable way of cooking sans chicken. But finally, that period is long long gone. For I present to you not only the easiest chicken recipe that you will ever find, it's also amazingly delicious. Oh yes.

The recipe, from February's Delicious magazine, advocated a meat-based way of having a good yet healthy dinner. Well, it might be healthy, but what won points was its ease of preparation. The recipe advocated butterflying the chicken. Hell no. Why turn a perfectly nice recipe that takes little to no time to prepare and ruin it with a horribly complex butchery instruction? No way jose.

Anyway, there's little else to say except that it's delicious and if you eat meat, you'll want to eat this.  Serve it with leeks and you have yourself one fine looking dinner, if I don't mind saying so myself.


Ingredients
1.6kg chicken, boned and butterflied (bah! I bought bone-in chicken pieces from the store and never noticed the difference)
1 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp lemon juice, plus 1 lemon, sliced
2 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
1 red chili, deseeded and thinly sliced
1 tbsp oregano
1 tbsp thyme (if you have sprigs, use them)
8 artichoke hearts, tinned in water, rinsed and drained
200 ml dry white wine


Method
Preheat the oil to 220C. Put the chicken in an oiled roasting tin. Drizzle with the rest of the oil and the lemon juice. Scatter with the lemon slices, garlic, chili, and herbs.
Season, then add the artichokes and wine.

Roast for 30-35 minutes until the skin is golden and the juices run clear when you pierce the meat in the thickest part (turn the oven down to 200C if the skin browns too soon)

Transfer the chicken to a board, then cut into pieces. Tip the juices from the tin into a jug. Serve the chicken pieces with the artichokes, drizzled with the cooking juices.

Serves 4-6

Roquefort and Red Cabbage Salad

Ok, so the title might be a tad misleading. Technically this salad is supposed to be made with red cabbage, which is sweet and wonderful and photographs beautifully. Sadly, the local Tesco has not stocked red cabbage in months, if not years. So, alas, white/green cabbage it was.

Now, this is not to say that this wasn't delicious. I dare you to find me any salad that isn't made infinitely better with the addition of either bacon or cheese, but still, I feel a bit of the fraud by posting a red cabbage recipe which prominently features nothing of the kind. But ah well. If you are so lucky to live in a region with the rich bounty of red cabbage, please, do partake, and think of me when you do.


Roquefort and Red (ahem, white) Cabbage Salad

Ingredients
1/4 red (or white) cabbage, central core removed, thinly sliced
4 tbsp red wine vinegar
50g caster sugar
600ml water
100g streaky bacon (normal bacon for the Americans out there), cut into 2cm dice
2 slices of white bread, cut into 1cm cubes
1 garlic clove, crushed
2 heads of chicory (endive)
1 small head of radicchio
150g Roquefort (or any blue cheese) crumbled

for the Vinaigrette 
4 tbsp red wine vinegar
1 tsp Dijon mustard
4 tbsp walnut oil
4 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp walnuts, roasted and broken into chunks
salt and pepper

Method

Put the cabbage in a bowl. Bring the vinegar to the boil, add the sugar and, once dissolved, pour it over the cabbage and stir well. Boil the water and pour that over the cabbage too. Leave to soak for 5 minutes, then drain in a colander and leave to cool.

Heat a frying pan over a high heat, add the bacon and cook it until it is crisp and the fat has been released. Add the bread and fry until golden, then stir in the garlic and fry for 1 minute.
Remove from heat.
Put the red cabbage in a salad bowl with the chicory and radicchio leaves, scatter over the bacon and croutons and the Roquefort cheese.
Whisk together all the ingredients for the vinaigrette and pour it over the salad.
Toss well, adjust the seasoning and serve.

Braised Leeks with Goat's Cheese

I know, I know, this is the second braised leeks recipe I have posted. And since I swore that the first one was so delicious, why on earth would I try another one? Because this is just as delicious, that's why. I happened upon this recipe on the Guardian website, created by Yotam Ottolenghi (and no, I have no idea how that's pronounced) who is known for doing all sorts of good and right things with food.

I was intrigued by this recipe because it seems to do the exact opposite of the other braised leeks recipe: simmering the leeks in liquid before braising them. The result is a softer, much sweeter leek. The sauce that is made from all the leftover juices is decadent and makes the dish. Unfortunately, the nice charred taste you get from roasting the leeks first before simmering them is lost, but still, this recipe is wonderful as a chicken side dish (see next post) and hey, who are you to turn down anything with goat's cheese? I certainly can't.

Note: The original recipe called for goat's curd. Now, you may live on a farm and have easy access to this. I don't. So goat's cheese it was, and it scrumptious. The curd will just have to wait.

Ingredients

8 long, thin leeks
2 bay leaves
2 garlic cloves, peeled and thinly sliced
200ml dry white wine
3 tbsp olive oil
250ml water
Salt and black pepper
½ small red onion, peeled and finely chopped
20g currants
1 tbsp cider vinegar
2½ tsp sugar
3 tbsp sunflower oil
100g goat's cheese

Method

First prepare the leeks. Discard the green part, then cut each leek widthways into two, each about 10cm long, and wash.

Lay the leeks in a large, shallow pan, add the bay leaves and garlic, and pour in the wine, olive oil and water, so the leeks are half-covered in liquid.

Season, then simmer gently for anywhere between 30 minutes and an hour (I did this for no longer than 30 minutes), turning the leeks a few times during cooking, until a knife can be inserted through the middle without any resistance.

Once tender, use a slotted spoon to transfer the leeks to a plate and set aside. Strain the liquid into a small pan and reduce over a high heat until you are left with two tablespoons of sauce. Remove from the heat, add the onion, currants, vinegar and sugar, and season. Set aside so the onion and currants soften in the residual heat while you finish off the leeks.

Heat the sunflower oil in a large frying pan and fry the leek pieces for a couple of minutes a side, until lightly golden. Place on a plate and leave to cool to room temperature.

To serve, divide the leeks between four plates. Top with small chunks of goat's curd, followed by the onion and currant dressing.

Root Vegetable Gratin

Another slightly horrific picture of a gratin, I apologize. There's just not other appropriate way for me to display the cheesy glory that is this recipe (similar to, I imagine, any gratin dish). Again, I have to cite the "Recipes for Health" section of The New York Times as my inspiration.
It's cold here in England. Very cold. January cold.
Which makes it the perfect time of year to celebrate the perhaps coldest section of the United Kingdom: Scotland.
Yes, that's right, once a year, the Brits pay homage to that most indecipherable of poets, Robbie Burns, Scotland's national hero. Perhaps because this is the time of year when most of Britain resembles Scotland: cold, dark, and slightly tipsy.
But, as only the Scots can, they make a merry night of it. Burns' Night, as it's called, involves a great feast and Scottish dancing (called a ceilidh, though just try to say that phonetically). 
And what better way to celebrate Scotland than to sample some of Scotland's most famous fare? That's right. Haggis. As Robin Williams says, I'm pretty sure that most Scottish cuisine was based on a dare. Innards and oats, you say? Sign me up!
But seriously, it's delicious. It's warming, it's filling, perfect for cold, dark, slightly tipsy nights such as these. And while haggis is traditionally served with "nips and tatties" (no, not that. I mean, roasted parsnips and cabbage. Get your mind out of the gutter!), I thought we could change the recipe slightly and throw some cheese and milk in with the mix. Hey, the Recipes for Health people recommended it. Who am I to disagree about its apparent "healthiness"?
Whether you're serving this with sheep innards or not, this is a great winter dish and amazingly easy to make. The timing can throw off things, but I cut corners and was able to get this dish out in less than hour (despite what the recipe may say).
G'un robh math agad! (or something to the effect)

Ingredients

1 1/2 pounds combination of parsnips and swede, peeled and sliced thin (or a combination of turnips, kohlrabi, rutabaga, large parsnips) 

Salt and freshly ground pepper

2 teaspoons fresh thyme leaves (or dried)

3/4 cup grated Gruyère cheese (3 ounces)

1 1/2 cups low-fat (1 percent or 2 percent) milk

Method

1. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Butter a 2-quart gratin or baking dish. Place the sliced vegetables in a large bowl, and season generously with salt and pepper. Add the thyme, and toss together.

2. Arrange the vegetables in the gratin dish. Add the milk, season with more salt and pepper if you wish, and place in the oven on the middle rack. Bake 45 minutes (I did this in 35 min); every 15 minutes, press the vegetables down into the milk with the back of your spoon. Add the cheese, and stir in carefully to incorporate. Return to the oven, and bake another 30 to 45 minutes (again, I cheated and did this for 25 minutes), stirring or pressing the vegetables down with the back of your spoon every 10 minutes until the gratin is nicely browned and most of the liquid is absorbed. Remove from the heat and serve, or allow to settle and serve warm.

Serves four.

Heart-Stopping Cinnamon Rolls

And that's the picture of these babies without the frosting. I just couldn't bring myself to take a picture of the completed item. It hurt my arteries too much. I mean, look at the sugar on those rolls. Go ahead, look again. That's all sugar. Well, that and a little cinnamon. Imagine what these things will do to you with frosting.
Which is to say that they'll be the most delicious things you've had in your life. You won't be able to eat more than one. Your body won't let you. There's a point at which your body can't handle any more sugar. You hit that point when you eat half of one of these. And then you keep going. Why? Because they're wonderful. Because they're tasty. Because they're everything that's good and right about waking up too early in the morning to make fresh cinnamon rolls.
Not that I did that. No way. These cinnamon rolls were a late evening snack. Being a yeast product, they require at least 3 hours of rising. Now, whoever wants to get up early enough to enjoy these things right out of the oven as a breakfast item is welcome to it. I, however, will be sleeping late and enjoying my cinnamon roll in the more sensible hours of the afternoon.
Paula Dean, in her infinite wisdom, provides this recipe. And it shows. There are about 2 1/2 sticks of butter in this recipe. At least. Thank you southern comfort.

Ingredients

Dough:
1/4-ounce package yeast (or 7 grams)
1/2 cup warm water
1/2 cup milk
1/4 cup sugar
1/3 cup butter
1 teaspoon salt
1 egg
3 1/2 to 4 cups all-purpose flour

Filling:
1/2 cup melted butter, plus more for pan
3/4 cup sugar, plus more for pan
4 tablespoons ground cinnamon
1 tablespoon ground nutmeg
3/4 cup raisins, walnuts, or pecans, optional

Glaze:
4 tablespoons butter
2 cups powdered sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
3 to 6 tablespoons hot water
Directions

Heat oven to 350 degrees F.

In a small bowl, dissolve yeast in warm water and set aside. In a large bowl mix milk, sugar, melted butter, salt and egg. Add 2 cups of flour and mix until smooth. Add yeast mixture. Mix in remaining flour until dough is easy to handle. Knead dough on lightly floured surface for 5 to 10 minutes. Place in well-greased bowl, cover and let rise until doubled in size, usually 1 to 1 1/2 hours (mine took about 2).

When doubled in size, punch down dough. Roll out on a floured surface into a 15 by 9-inch rectangle. Spread melted butter all over dough. Mix sugar and cinnamon and sprinkle over buttered dough. Sprinkle with walnuts, pecans, or raisins if desired. Beginning at the 15-inch side, role up dough and pinch edge together to seal. Cut into 12 to 15 slices.

Coat the bottom of baking pan with butter and sprinkle with sugar. Place cinnamon roll slices close together in the pan and let rise until dough is doubled, about 45 minutes. Bake for about 30 minutes or until nicely browned.

Meanwhile, mix butter, powdered sugar, and vanilla. Add hot water 1 tablespoon at a time until the glaze reaches desired consistency. Spread over slightly cooled rolls.