Roasted Chicken with Dijon Sauce

I wasn’t going to write a post for this recipe. It wasn’t because I didn’t like it. Oh no! Nothing could be further from the truth. I wasn’t going to write a post because this recipe came from the blog smitten kitchen, complete with really good photos, and I didn’t think it was necessary to try to get pictures with my limited skills and complete lack of natural light by suppertime in January. But, in the end, I was so happy about this dish that I decided to write about it anyway. This is a cooking journal, not food porn, so I’ll tell you what I did.

First of all, this is pan-roasted chicken with a fabulous pan sauce made with pan drippings, white wine, shallots, Dijon mustard, and, in my version, half and half. (It’s what I had in the refrigerator.) As you might guess from that first sentence, the pan is somewhat important to this whole procedure. I like using cast iron for this, even though it still makes me a little nervous to put it on my glass-top stove.

I started with a whole chicken and practiced my butchering skills (which are getting pretty good, by the way) by cutting it into breasts, legs, thighs and wings. You could, of course, buy a chicken already in parts, or probably even buy just the parts you like. Whatever you choose, the chicken should be skin on and bone in.

Next, I browned my chicken pieces in that cast iron pan, then roasted them until done in the oven. Once the chicken was done, I made the lovely pan sauce by boiling chicken broth and wine (I used an inexpensive chardonnay from Trader Joe’s…my taste in and budget for wine is fairly, er, cheap) with the pan drippings and shallots. All that was left to do next was to enrich the sauce with half and half and mustard, and throw in a few bits of chopped scallion tops to make the fabulously delicious, zingy sauce that is as great on a side of mashed potatoes as it is on the roasted chicken.

This kind of recipe always deceives me just a bit. It sounds so straightforward, but requires a bit of a dance at the stove, especially when I intend to have side dishes too. If you are inclined, however, to try pan-roasting chicken this is a good recipe go with. Just remember a few things that the recipe writers rarely tell you about: 1) Be prepared for some smoke in your kitchen when cooking the chicken. Unless you have a hooded kitchen fan (I don’t) you might want to open a window or at least set someone up to deal with the smoke detector for you. 2) Be prepared to clean up a pretty greasy stove, the floor in front of the stove, and possibly the oven. Those lovely pan drippings that contribute to the delightful sauce also tend to splatter everywhere. You could also use a splatter guard if you have one (I don’t.) 3) Try to get as much set up as possible before you even begin cooking. Chop and measure ingredients and have them ready when you need them. 4) Probably the most important thing to remember is to be extremely careful when handling raw chicken. Clean up everything that touches it as soon as possible and avoid letting it drip on anything. I even change my messy apron after cutting up the chicken to avoid cross-contamination.

Of course, if you’re and old pro at pan-roasted chicken, you just skipped that last paragraph and are heading right for the recipe. More power to you. It’s delicious! There’s plenty of sauce to serve it with mashed potatoes if you like, or, if there’s any sauce leftover, it’s really nice warmed up and drizzled over scrambled eggs.


Pan Roasted Chicken with Dijon Cream Sauce
Adapted from this recipe at smitten kitchen, where it was adapted from Gourmet magazine

1 whole chicken, cut into parts (breasts, thighs, legs, and wings)
Salt and pepper to taste
1 tablespoon canola vegetable oil
¼ cup thinly-sliced shallots (about 1 large or 2 small)
¾ cup dry white wine (I used an inexpensive chardonnay, but I’ve also used other dry white wines)
¾ cup reduced-sodium chicken broth
¼ cup half and half
2 tablespoons smooth Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon finely chopped scallion tops (the green part) or use chives if available

1. Preheat oven to 450°F. Sprinkle the skin side of the chicken with salt and pepper. Heat oil in a 12-inch cast iron skillet (or other heavy, oven-proof skillet) over medium-high heat. Place about half of the chicken pieces in a single layer, skin-side down in the pan. Season the non-skin side with salt and pepper.

2. Cook the chicken until browned. This should take a few minutes. Do not move the chicken until it develops a browned crust that released easily from the pan. Turn the chicken over and brown the other side. Remove from the skillet and place on a clean plate or platter. Repeat with the remaining chicken pieces.

3. Return all chicken, skin side up, to the skillet. Place the skillet in the preheated oven and roast until the chicken is cooked through. This should take about 20 minutes, but test the chicken for doneness, preferably by inserting an instant-read thermometer probe in the thickest piece. It should be at least 165 F.

4. Transfer chicken to a platter, and cover with foil to keep warm. Return the skillet to the stove over medium-high heat. Add shallots, wine, and broth to pan juice and boil, scraping up any brown bits, until reduced by about half.

5. Add half and half and continue to boil until slightly thickened, about 1-2 minutes. Strain sauce with a sieve into a bowl. Whisk in mustard and scallion tops. Taste the sauce and adjust the seasons if desired. Transfer to a gravy boat if desired, and serve the chicken with the sauce. There should also be enough sauce to serve over a side of mashed potatoes.

Makes at least 4 servings.

Another recipe like this one: Coke Brined Chicken

One year ago: White Bean Soup with Bacon, Squash, and Kale

Two years ago: Roasted Red Pepper, Garlic, and Onion Dip

Celery and Citrus Salad

This just in: Citrus Fruits Save Winter! As much as I love the rutabaga, it just doesn’t bring as much hope and light into the kitchen as a bowl of brightly colored, juicy citrus fruits. And it’s not just lemons and oranges anymore.

Take this salad, for instance. It’s my lazy interpretation of the “Clemenquat Salad” in the fabulous book Super Natural Cooking by Heidi Swanson (also the author of the blog 101 Cookbooks). As you might guess from its whimsical name, this salad is loaded with clementines and kumquats. It also gets a hefty crunch from a base of sliced celery and some walnuts. Shaved Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese balances the tart acidity with some salty nuttiness as well.

While this recipe comes from Super Natural Cooking, the inspiration to try it comes from my determination to eat kumquats this year. (I know. Aim high!) I knew the local co-op carried them in the winter and I kept my eyes peeled for them when I read this recipe. I can’t remember when I last ate a kumquat, which is kind of like eating a teeny tiny orange whole, but I do remember thinking they were fabulous, if a bit weird. Their pulp and juice tend to be quite sour and have a flavor that’s similar to those of oranges and tangerines, but with the kumquat’s own unique character. The peel is faintly bitter, but I find it milder than other citrus peels, and it complements and quiets the strong flavor of the pulp.

Thinly slicing little kumquats is a bit of a labor of love, but they made this salad so uniquely delicious, it was worth the effort. I followed the suggestion in the original recipe to use a serrated knife and that worked well. I added a bit of honey to the dressing to tame the overall tartness of the fruit just a bit, but this is still a pleasantly sour citrus salad. Since I rarely eat green salads in the winter, and can only take so many winter vegetable slaws I think I’ll find this perky dish a welcome addition to my winter dinner table.


Celery and Citrus Salad with Walnuts and Parmesan
Adapted from Super Natural Cooking by Heidi Swanson

½ cup chopped walnuts
3 clementines
10 kumquats
4 large celery ribs
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1 teaspoon honey
2 tablespoons olive oil
¼ teaspoon coarse salt
1/8 teaspoon black pepper (a few grinds from a pepper mill)
about ¼ cup coarsely-shaved Parmesan cheese

1. Place the walnuts in a small skillet and heat over medium-low heat until just beginning to brown. Remove from heat and cool completely.

2. Peel the clementines and separate the sections. Cut the sections in half crosswise and place them in a medium-size bowl. Thinly slice the kumquats (a serrated knife works well for this), removing any seeds as you go. Add to the clementines in the bowl.

3. Remove any large strings from the outer surface of the celery ribs. Slice the celery very thinly on a diagonal. Add the celery to the clementines and kumquats.

4. In a small bowl, combine the lemon juice, honey, olive oil, salt and pepper. Whisk together until smooth and emulsified. Pour over the citrus and celery in the bowl. Toss very gently to coat. Gently stir in the Parmesan shavings and cooled walnuts.

Makes about 4 side-dish servings.


One year ago: French Toast Casserole with Cardamom and Pears

Two years ago: Slow Cooker Pulled Pork and Pasta with Sqash Puree and Blue Cheese Sauce

Orange Millet Waffles

I like a hot breakfast on cold weekend mornings, or at least that’s when I seem to be able to get myself together enough to make one. One of my favorites is these waffles from Fine Cooking magazine. (I first found the recipe in The Best American Recipes 2002-2003). Recently, I varied the recipe a bit to include orange juice and zest along with a bit of millet flour.

The original waffles are lightly crisp and delicious thanks to some cornstarch in the batter and a few moments on a rack in a warm oven after coming off the waffle iron. They’re a little bit of a fuss to make, which is why I usually reserve them for lazier Saturdays. They require the use of a few bowls, egg separation, and the beating of one (yes, just one) egg white. Then I went and fussed them up even more by adding yet another dry ingredient to measure (millet flour) and the mess of zesting and squeezing an orange. I do not regret it.

The zest of the orange is what gives the waffles (or any other baked goods) a good orange flavor and perfume, but the juice contributes to the orangey taste as well. The original recipe called for buttermilk, so I simulated its tanginess and chemical nature by mixing milk and freshly-squeezed orange juice. This is a variation on “sour milk,” which is often suggested as an emergency substitution for buttermilk, and can be made with lemon juice or even vinegar. I liked the results so much that I think I’ll never let a lack of buttermilk in the refrigerator keep me from making waffles again. (I also often substitute a mixture of yogurt and milk.)

As for the millet flour, if you aren’t specifically probing for it, you might not notice it in this recipe. The baking waffles have a lightly nutty fragrance, and their millet flavor is gently sweet and grainy. I do not find that millet flour asserts itself as much as other whole grain flours do, and I liked its subtle presence here. If you don’t happen to have millet flour on hand, you might try substituting cornmeal, or just use more all-purpose flour. Either way, the orange flavor, which is the seasonal highlight of this hot breakfast, should still shine through nicely. And if you’re like me, you’ll love these waffles enough to barely resent all the measuring, beating, squeezing and pouring it takes to make them.

Orange Millet Waffles
Based on a recipe in Fine Cooking magazine via The Best American Recipes 2002-2003

This is a relatively small batch of waffles.

You could replace the millet flour with cornmeal or more all-purpose flour if desired.

1 large egg
1 medium orange
milk (about 3/4 cup)
½ cup all-purpose flour
¼ cup millet flour
¼ cup cornstarch
1 tablespoon sugar
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon baking soda
¼ cup canola or vegetable oil
½ teaspoon vanilla extract

1. Separate the egg yolk and white, setting each aside. Allow the egg white to stand and warm to room temperature. Preheat a waffle iron. Preheat the oven to 200 F. Place a cooling rack in the oven if desired (to hold the finished waffles).

2. Remove the zest from the orange. (I use a Micorplane grater, which makes finely-grated zest.) Set aside. Squeeze the juice from the orange into a measuring cup. Pour in enough milk to make 1 cup liquid. Stir together. Let stand while preparing the remaining ingredients.

3. In a medium-size bowl, combine the all-purpose flour, millet flour, cornstarch, sugar, salt, baking powder and baking soda. Whisk together. Sprinkle in the orange zest and stir to distribute evenly, breaking up the clumps of zest if necessary. Set aside.

4. In another medium-size bowl, combine the egg yolk and canola oil. Whisk together until smooth. Whisk in the orange juice-milk mixture. Whisk in the vanilla extract. Set aside.

5. In a small to medium bowl, beat the egg white with an electric mixer on high speed until the foam forms firm peaks. Set aside.

6. Add the egg yolk mixture to the flour mixture and stir together just until combined. Add the beaten egg white and fold in gently until well-distributed, but still puffy.

5. Spray the preheated waffle iron with cooking spray or brush it with oil or butter. Pour the batter into the waffle iron and bake according to manufacturer’s instructions until the waffle is golden brown. Remove the waffle and place on the rack in the preheated oven. Repeat with remaining batter. Do not stack the waffles, but keep them separated to allow them to get gently crispy. Serve with butter and maple syrup, or whatever you like.

Makes 5 6 ½ inch waffles.

Another recipe like this one: Barley Pancakes with Orange Juice and Vanilla

One year ago: Roasted Winter Vegetables and Sausage with Garlic-Parsley Aioli

Two years ago: Pumpkin Oatmeal Quick Bread with Dates and Pecans

White Bean and Tomato Stew

These last few days, we’ve had a not-so friendly reminder that Winter is still the boss of January. The wind and the snow are throwing their weight around. The sun dares to shine pretty regularly, but only in protest. One almost feels inclined to complain.

What I’m trying to say is that it got really cold here. Like below the 0 degrees Fahrenheit line with unspeakable wind chills. Time to raid the pantry and make something hot and comforting. I went with white beans flavored with carrots, celery and bay leaf, then re-simmered with canned (of course…it’s January) tomatoes and a little sprig of rosemary.

This dish is based on a recipe I clipped from a Martha Stewart Living magazine so long ago that I don’t have any idea of its publication date. In the original, the beans were cooked with large chunks of carrots, celery and onion which were removed after the beans were cooked. I gave myself a bit more chopping and left the vegetables in for the final stage of simmering with tomatoes. I also went with diced tomatoes to save myself the step (and the dish-washing) of chopping whole tomatoes in the food processor as was suggested in the original recipe.

I wish I would have cooked the beans a little longer, since they do not really get softer in the presence of the acidic tomatoes, but otherwise this was a delightfully flavorful and comforting dish. It’s hot and hearty and savory and the little hint of rosemary flavor gained by cooking the beans and tomatoes with a whole sprig that is removed before serving is just right. Rosemary can be rather assertive, but if you like it, you could probably put in more.

I served this stew over polenta. I’m woefully inexperienced with polenta, so don’t have much advice or even a recipe to recommend. You should be able find one pretty easily in cookbooks or with the Google machine in front of you. I will say that the recipe I did use (or rather modified) simply called for “stone-ground cornmeal” which I happened to have, rather than insisting on something labeled “polenta,” which I didn’t. It seemed to work just fine and tasted like a cornbread pudding. Even more comfort for a cold, cold day, or rather series of days. While the cold kept coming, this recipe made plenty of leftovers.

White Bean Stew with Tomatoes and Rosemary
Adapted from Martha Stewart Living magazine

1 pound small dried white beans, such as Navy or Great Northern
1 medium onion, finely chopped, divided
1 medium carrot, peeled and diced
1 medium celery stalk, diced
1 bay leaf
2 tablespoons olive oil
½ teaspoon coarse (kosher) salt, plus more to taste
2 large garlic cloves, minced
¼ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
1 (about 4-5 inch) sprig fresh rosemary
½ cup water
1 (28-ounce) can diced tomatoes (I used fire-roasted)

1. Rinse the beans and remove any stones, dirt or broken beans. Place the beans in a large pot or bowl. Cover with water by several inches. Cover and soak overnight (or at least 8 hours).

2. Drain the beans. Place the beans in a large pot or Dutch oven. Add half of the onion, the carrot, celery and bay leaf. Cover with water by at least 4 inches. Bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and boil gently until the beans are tender, but not yet falling apart, about 1 hour.

3. Drain the beans and vegetables. Discard the bay leaf. Rinse and dry the cooking pot.

4. Pour the olive oil in the pot and heat over medium heat. Add the remaining onion and ½ teaspoon salt. Cook and stir until the onion is tender but not browned, about 3-5 minutes. Add the garlic and red pepper flakes. Cook and stir about 30 seconds more.

5. Add the cooked bean mixture, rosemary, water and tomatoes (do not drain the tomatoes, but add the entire contents of the can). Bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer, uncovered, for about 20 minutes or until the tomato sauce has thickened slightly. Remove and discard the rosemary sprig. Taste for salt and stir in more if desired.

Makes 8 or more servings. This is good served over polenta.

Other recipes like this one: White Bean Soup with Bacon, Squash and Kale; White Bean Soup with Fresh Herbs

One year ago: Garlic-Salt Paste (Technique)

Two years ago: Spaghetti Squash Salad with Greek Flavors

Cinnamon Graham Bread

It’s not just us. The folks in the 19th century needed to be told to eat whole grains, too. At least I assume so, because graham flour, coarsely ground whole wheat flour, was named after Reverend Sylvester Graham, a Presbyterian minister and advocate of whole wheat flour. I don’t know whether he preached on the goodness of whole grains, but he at least talked to enough people about it to get his name associated with wheat flour that has not been stripped of the grain’s germ and bran.

I bought a little bag of graham flour in December, just to make the crust of these Cranberry Bars. I needed to use up the rest of it, and, while I think it could be used to replace regular whole wheat flour in recipes, I decided to try something that called for it specifically. (My out-of-control recipe collection allows me to do that.) I went with a cinnamon raisin graham bread from Better Homes and Gardens: The Complete Guide to Bread Machine Baking, but I opted in favor of dried cranberries instead of raisins and added some chopped pecans.

This loaf was a little denser than my usual whole wheat sandwich loaf, but it was by no means a brick. The taste is delicious: gently sweetened by honey, perked up by the sweet-tart cranberries, and warmly spiced by the cinnamon. (I added a little more cinnamon than the original recipe suggested). The pecans provide some nice crunch, but also their characteristic sweet and nutty flavor. I’m always surprised by how much flavor pecans can add to a loaf of bread. (Note to self: put more pecans in baked goods!)

I think Reverend Graham would have approved of this reasonably healthy loaf, although he likely would be confused by the craisins. (I’m convinced there’s a special reward in the afterlife for the inventor of craisins.) I’m not sure what he would have thought of some of the slightly less wholesome things we make with graham flour, such as s’mores or Teddy Grahams. Hey, buddy, people are saying your name every day. What more do you want? Besides, if they get us to eat our whole grains, they can’t be all bad.

Cinnamon Graham Bread with Cranberries and Pecans
Adapted from Better Homes and Gardens: The Complete Guide to Bread Machine Baking

You could change the nuts and dried fruit in this bread to taste. For example, raisins and walnuts might be nice.

You could also use regular whole wheat flour if you do not have graham flour.

1 cup warm water (about 100-110 F)
3 tablespoons honey
2 tablespoons butter, cut up
2 ¼ teaspoons (1 envelope) active dry yeast
2 cups bread flour, divided (or more if needed)
1 cup graham flour
1 tablespoon gluten
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon fine salt
1/3 cup dried cranberries
1/3 cup chopped pecans

1. Combine the water, honey, butter and yeast in the bowl of a stand mixer or other large bowl. Let stand about 5 minutes or until the yeast is foamy.

2. Add 1 cup bread flour, graham flour, gluten and cinnamon. Mix until well blended into a wet batter. Cover and let stand 15-30 minutes.

3. Add the salt and about ½ cup of the remaining bread flour. Using the dough hook for the stand mixer, knead for about 10 minutes, gradually adding as much of the remaining bread flour as needed to make a smooth, elastic dough that is slightly tacky to the touch. (If you’re not using an electric mixer, stir in as much bread flour as you can. Turn out the dough on a floured surface and knead by hand, adding enough bread flour to make a smooth, elastic dough that is slightly tacky to the touch. This should take about 10 minutes.) Knead in the dried cranberries and pecans.

4. Oil a large bowl or spray it with cooking spray. Form the dough into a ball and set it in the prepared bowl. Oil or spray the top of the dough and place a sheet of plastic wrap on top. Cover with a towel and let stand for about 1 hour or until roughly doubled in size.

5. Gently deflate the dough and form it into a new ball. Cover and let stand for a few minutes. Spray an 8” x 5” bread loaf pan with cooking spray or brush it with oil. Shape the dough into a loaf and set it in the pan. Cover with a towel and let stand about 1 hour, or until roughly double in size.

6. Preheat the oven to 375 F. Bake the bread at 375 F for about 35 minutes, or until it tests done. (The bread will be browned and sound hollow when tapped, or you can test the internal temperature with a probe thermometer. It should read about 200 F.)

7. Remove the bread from the pan and cool on a wire rack.

Makes a 1 ½ pound loaf.

Other recipes like this one: Wheat Sandwich Bread, Walnut Buttermilk Bread

One year ago: Coconut Pineapple Pancakes

Two years ago: Spaetzle with Cabbage, Bacon and Onions

Root Vegetable Soup

Oh my goodness, look at the time! Almost half of January is gone and I haven’t had any new messy adventures to report. The truth is that I’ve just been off my game a bit, but, to avoid making 2012 the Year of the Procrastinator, I thought I’d tell you about root vegetable soup.

I suppose some folks think they’re exercising a bit of kindness when calling these sturdy winter storage crops “humble.” A closer look at the likes of rutabagas, turnips, potatoes or parsnips might lead to more discriminating adjectives like “grungy” or “dumpy” and their tastes and association with long, hungry winters might invoke “boring,” “stodgy,” or even “a little funky.” I love these oft-maligned vegetables, however, (except for beets. Don’t even talk to me about beets.) and I love this root vegetable soup that I adapted from The Ultimate Cookbook by Bruce Weinstein and Mark Scarbrough.

You could probably vary the vegetables for this soup depending on what you like and what you have on hand. I used those called for in the original recipe: carrot, potato, turnip, rutabaga and parsnip, although I made a smaller pot of soup. You also could vary the seasonings, of course. I used lots of mustard, which I love with roots, and some fresh thyme, which I happened to have in the refrigerator. This is kind of a use-what-you have recipe for cold winter days and nights when you don’t feel like going out to get ingredients for something more fancy.

Just a few days ago, I didn’t even feel like eating a hot and hearty soup like this one. The temperatures were topping out near 50 F, which is just weird in Minnesota in January. Now that the snow and the wind and the cold are back, at least for a while, this soup is just right. It’s thick and creamy but still chunky, since I pureed about half of it, leaving the rest of the vegetables whole. The flavor is faintly sweet and gently bitter as is the nature of a good mixture of roots. There’s a hefty dose of mustard, which I love with root vegetables and a bit of tang from some sour cream. Of course, just that it’s hot and comforting goes a long way on a cold and blustery day like today. Hopefully it will give me energy and inspiration to get this show back on the road!

Root Vegetable Soup with Mustard
Adapted from The Ultimate Cookbook by Bruce Weinstein and Mark Scarbrough

You could use vegetable broth in place of the chicken broth if you prefer to make this soup vegetarian. Start with less salt if you are not using a low-sodium broth and add to taste if needed.

2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 small onion (or half of a large one), chopped
1 teaspoon coarse salt, or to taste
2 large garlic cloves, finely chopped
¼ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
1 large carrot, peeled and cut into ¼- ½ inch pieces
1 medium parsnip, peeled and cut into ¼- ½ inch pieces
1 medium rutabaga, peeled and cut into ¼- ½ inch pieces
1 medium turnip, peeled and cut into ¼- ½ inch pieces
1 medium baking potato, peeled and cut into ¼- ½ inch pieces
¼ teaspoon black pepper
3-4 sprigs fresh thyme (optional)
1 bay leaf
4 cups chicken broth (I used reduced-sodium)
¼ cup sour cream (I used reduced-fat)
2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
additional sour cream and chopped parsley to garnish

1. Heat the butter in a large pot or Dutch oven over medium heat until melted. Add the onion and salt. Saute about 5 minutes, or until the onion is softened. Add the garlic and crushed red pepper flakes. Cook and stir about 30 seconds more.

2. Add the carrot, parsnip, rutabaga, turnip, and potato. Cook 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.

3. Add the black pepper, thyme, bay leaf, and chicken broth. Bring to a boil. Cover, reduce the heat and boil gently until the vegetables are very soft, about 35 to 45 minutes.

4. Remove from the heat. Remove the bay leaf and the thyme sprigs (most of the thyme leaves will have fallen off) and discard. Remove about half of the soup and set aside. Puree the remaining soup with an immersion blender. Return the soup that you removed earlier to the pan and stir to combine. (Or, you can puree half the soup in a regular blender and return it to the pan.)

5. Stir in the sour cream and Dijon mustard until smooth. Heat through if necessary. Taste for seasoning, especially salt, and adjust if necessary. Serve with additional sour cream and chopped parsley.

Makes about 6 servings.

Other recipes like this one: Cream of Carrot and Parsnip Soup, Spicy Carrot and Apple Soup with Coconut Milk, Creamy Cabbage and Potato Soup, Celeriac, Potato and Wild Rice Soup or go here for my favorite hot winter soups.

One year ago: Hot Cocoa and Finnish Cardamom Bread

Two years ago: Red Cabbage Slaw with Apples and Cranberries and Potato and Celeriac Casserole with Baked Eggs