Madeira Chicken with Mushrooms

Our Valentine's Days have always been fraught with disaster. The first one was great, but after that, it was like a curse descended onto our V-Day plans. One year, our reservations got lost. Another year, the restaurant had a fire in their kitchen and had to close down. There was a time that our car got a flat on the way to our destination, and I think by the fourth year of this, we just gave up on plans. We got the hint.

This year, I'm giving my Valentine some chicken. Because chocolates are nice, but let's get real, I know my husband is a meat and potatoes kind of guy and a really good dinner always excites him much more than dessert. It sounds unromantic, I know, but you haven't tasted this chicken. It has an amazing flavor. It has mushrooms, it has onions, it has thyme, and it gets to braise in a magical mix of butter, Madeira and Worcestershire sauce until meltingly tender and fragrant with butter, wine and herbs. The skin gets re-crisped under the broiler, and when you cut into it, you'll want to have lots of crusty country bread on hand to sop up the dark, rich sauce, which might just be my favorite part. Oh, and it comes together with about 15 minutes of work and half an hour of braising, during which you and your Valentine can... well, I'll let you figure that part out. I'm just here for the food.

Madeira Chicken with Mushrooms
adapted from Williams-Sonoma
serves 6

6 chicken thighs, fat cut off
Salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste
3 Tbs. unsalted butter
1 medium yellow onion, chopped
1 lb. wild and/or cultivated mushrooms, sliced
1/2 cup Madeira or dry sherry
1 1/2 Tbs. Worcestershire sauce
1 1/2 Tbs. chopped fresh thyme

Season the chicken generously on both sides with salt and pepper. In a large fry pan or saute pan with a lid, melt the butter on med-high heat and brown the chicken on both sides, about 4 minutes per side. Transfer the chicken to a plate and set aside.

Add the onion into the pan juices and saute until barely softened, about 3 minutes. Add the mushrooms and saute until the juices are released, about 5 minutes. Stir in the Madeira and Worcestershire sauce.

Return the chicken to the pan, nestle it in between the mushrooms and onions, cover and braise on medium-low heat until cooked throughout, 20-25 minutes. About five minutes before the chicken is done, pre-heat the oven to broil. Once the chicken is done, put the pan into the oven, uncovered, for 5 minutes to re-crisp the skin. Adjust the seasoning in the sauce, stir in chopped thyme and serve immediately over rice or mashed potatoes with lots of bread to sop up the sauce.

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Penne with shrimp, salmon, asparagus and sundried tomatoes

Friends, I think I'm getting old. Yes, laugh all you want, but turning 30 did something to me, messed with some brain cells maybe, I don't know. Even when all the synapses are firing, it feels like the receptacles took a lunch break and then a coffee break and then went to happy hour for some carne asado and margaritas.

We had a dinner party this weekend. Nothing fancy, just good friends, good food, lots of wine and laughing until 2am. In other words, my favorite kind of party. One of the girls is lactose intolerant, so when I was brainstorming dairy-free main courses, I just knew that I had to make this pasta. It's something that I came up with on the fly a few months ago, but the deliciousness is insane. My favorite part is how the textures and flavors play off of each other, how the asparagus is crunchy and garlicky, the shrimp are succulent and juicy and the salmon (marinated in a little mayo and spicy sauce) is so soft and flaky with just an aftertaste of heat, that you don't even need anything other than a dash of good olive oil and a sprinkling of fresh basil to pull it all together. I mean, this is a winner, a dish to be brought out again and again.

But back to my misfiring synapses. So the night before the party, I went food shopping to the brand spanking new Trader Joe's that opened up right near my house. I was being really good, following my list and not stopping at the aisles with the colorful boxes that promised me easy spanakopita or mushroom turnovers. I was getting down to the last few items on my list, the very bottom, and then... then I walked by the wine aisle. Do I even need to tell you what happened next? I walked out with five bottles of wine, and when I got home and unloaded my bags, and I looked at my list, every item was crossed off except the one in the biggest letters. PASTA.

Ugh. Ok, I thought, I'll just get it tomorrow when I drive by the supermarket to raid their fantastic olive bar. All the way to the store, I chanted "pasta" in my head... And then I walked by the wine aisle again, and there was new rose from Provence, and out of the two items I had to get at the supermarket (1. olives, 2. PASTA), the olives and the rose made it home. Laughing histerically, A. ran back to the store to get the box of pasta. The moral of the story? Once you turn 30, your brain becomes more interested in wine than in pasta. That's a fact.

Penne with shrimp, salmon, asparagus and sundried tomatoes
Prep time: about half an hour
(serves about 8)
1 box (16 oz) penne pasta
1 lb shrimp
1 lb salmon (I used 2 fillets, 8 oz each)
1 bunch asparagus
1 cup chopped sundried tomatoes (I use the kind packed in olive oil)
4 cloves garlic
a large handful of fresh basil, chopped roughly
1/3 cup chicken stock or white wine
olive oil
salt & pepper, thyme or whatever else you like
fresh Parmesan for topping

For salmon marinade:
1/3 cup mayonnaise
1 tbsp Dijon mustard
1 tbsp soy sauce
a few dashes of any kind of hot sauce (Tabasco, Worcestershire, etc.)

Marinate the salmon at least 2 hrs before cooking (or overnight): combine mayo, mustard, soy sauce and hot sauce in a small, shallow container. Wash and pat dry the salmon and rub the marinade all over the fish. Cover and chill in the refrigerator for 2 hrs to overnight.

Cook the pasta according to the instructions on the box, but subtract about 2 minutes from the cooking time. You want the pasta to be a little undercooked, so not quite al dente. Drain the pasta and return to the pot.

Meanwhile, prepare your other ingredients: de-vein and peel the shrimp; wash the asparagus, dry it well, chop off the tough white ends and chop the stalks into about 2 inch pieces; chop the sundried tomatoes, if the pieces are too large to eat comfortably.

Heat a few tablespoons of olive oil in a pan (I like to use olive oil infused with either garlic or some herbs). Add the shrimp and cook for a few minutes until pink on all sides. Season with salt and pepper and add, along with the skillet oil, to the pasta.

Now, you should take the salmon out of the refrigerator. Preheat the oven, set a rack in the top third of the oven, take the salmon out of the marinade and broil it for about 10 minutes or until cooked through.

While the salmon is cooking, add another few tablespoons of olive oil to the same pan in which you cooked the shrimp. Crush all 4 garlic cloves into the skillet, stir for about 30 seconds and then add the asparagus. Here, it's really important not to overcook it (no one likes mushy asparagus), so I set my timer for 2 minutes exactly. Stirring often, cook the asparagus in olive oil and garlic for 2 minutes and add to the pot with the pasta and shrimp.

Return the pan to the heat, lower the heat a little, add the stock or wine to the pan and deglaze with a silicone spatula or a wooden spoon (when the stock/wine is added, it should sizzle a little and all the brown tasty bits will come loose under the gentle prodding of your spatula). Add the sundried tomatoes to the pan, heat for another minute, and pour the sauce into the pot with your other ingredients.

Set the pot over medium heat, throw in the chopped basil and stir everything for a few minutes until thoroughly heated through (this is why we undercooked the pasta, so it can finish cooking here and come out perfectly al dente). Season to taste. At this point, you can add a little more olive oil to help it come together. I like to add the olive oil that my sundried tomatoes were packed in to give it extra taste.

Your salmon should be pretty much ready just about now. Flake it gently with your fork into bite-sized pieces. Arrange the pasta on a platter and set the salmon on top. Serve immediately with fresh Parmesan, lots of garlic bread and wine.

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Cabbage Rolls

Last time I posted about cabbage rolls, it seems to have messed up the blog when viewed in IE, so let's try it again, hoping that technology will cooperate with me. Cabbage rolls is the quintessential Easter European/Russian/Jewish type of dish that, if you've never had it before, sounds kind of strange (cabbage? wrapped around meat and rice? weird...), but once you've tasted it, there's no going back. The silky tenderness of the cabbage wrapped around a succulent mixture of meat, rice, onions and spices and sauteed in tomatoes and more onions until the flavors dance and then topped with cool, tangy sour cream... It's a winner from all angles, especially on a cold, rainy night. To convince you further, I can add that the Greeks have something very similar called Dolmathes (grape leaves stuffed with meat and rice), and if the Greeks do anything right (and oh, they sure do), it's definitely food.



Cabbage Rolls (or Golubtsi, if you want to sparkle with your knowledge of Russian dishes)
recipe via my aunt

For the filling
1 head of cabbage
1.5 lb of ground meat (the best, as my aunt tells it is 1 lb beef and .5 lb of pork, but I used 1.5 lb of lean turkey and it was still pretty great)
1 cup cooked rice
1 onion
1 large carrot
2 T chopped parsley
1 egg
2 slices of stale bread
salt and pepper

For the broth
1 can chopped tomatoes, drained (or a few small tomatoes, chopped and seeds removed)
1 T tomato paste
2/3 cups water or chicken broth
1 onion
1 large carrot
2 T chopped parsley
salt and pepper
1 teaspoon dried thyme or oregano

sour cream for garnish and bread for soaking up the broth (this is the really important part, people, don't skip it)

Bring water to a boil in a medium-large, heavy bottomed pot (ideally, it should be a cast iron pot, but I don't have one and it all worked out well anyway). Separate as many large and medium leaves from the cabbage as you can by cutting around the stem and removing the leaves. It's ok if they rip a little. Submerge the leaves in boiling water and cook for 7-10 minutes or until soft. Drain water and take out the leaves.

Grate 1 onion and 1 carrot on a fine grater and chop the parsley. Cut the crust off of the bread slices and soak in a little bit of water until very soft. Squeeze out the water. Combine the ground meat, grated vegetables, parsley, egg, rice and bread and mix very well so that all the ingredients are distributed properly. My aunt does this with her hands, but I find that a large fork works for me. Season the mixture with salt and pepper and set aside.

Chop the other onion and grate the carrot on a large grater and saute in a skillet for a few minutes with a little olive oil until the carrot is soft and the onion is translucent. Add the 2/3 cup of water or chicken broth and tomato paste and stir. Then add the chopped tomatoes, parsley, thyme or oregano and season to your liking.

Pour half the mixture into the heavy bottomed pot and reserve the other half.

Now, wrap your cabbage rolls. Take one leaf of cabbage -- it should be soft enough to bend, but if the stem is a little tough still, use a meat tenderizer to help even it out. Grab a handful of the meat mixture and set it at the base of the leaf. Fold forward once, then fold both of the sides into the middle (like an envelope) and fold again. You can cut off the remainder of the leaf or just continue folding. Arrange the cabbage rolls in the pot so they fit snugly next to each other. You should have about 12-14 pieces.
Pour the rest of the broth on top. Cover and simmer on medium-low heat for 45 min to an hour or until the meat is fully cooked and the cabbage rolls take on a darker, golden hue from the tomatoes and the carrots. Garnish with sour cream and serve with dark bread. Excuse me while I go eat the last two before A. gets to them.

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Best Crab Salad Ever

If you come to a Thanksgiving dinner at a Russian's house, you will be certain to find much more than turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing and pumpkin pie there. Sure, those things will be present on the menu -- don't let anyone say that we did not faithfully adopt the customs of this holiday -- but any holiday for a Russian is a blank canvas upon which he or she can paint the feast of their desires. As a result, the cold and hot appetizer spread ("zakuski") is probably a full dinner in itself, after which you may or may not want a bit of turkey and stuffing (the men in the family usually end up on the "may" side of that equation).

There are many things you will almost always find at a zakuski table -- pirozhki (meat or cabbage pies), salad Olivier (the Russian version of potato salad), cold cuts and pickled vegetables, and also crab salad. Russians love crab salad. I don't know why, I don't know how, but it's one of those things that invariably finds its way onto the menu, and I am invariably disappointed in its taste. There are many different ways to make it, but usually it involves chunks of crab and cucumbers swimming in a mayo or buttermilk-based dressing. Um. Not my idea of a good time, I can tell you.

Once I tasted my mother in law's crab salad, however, all my crab salad dreams were answered. People, this is the best crab salad ever, and I am not prone to hyperbole here. Her secret is to use the food processor to do the chopping, which produces the tenderest little flakes of crab and egg, mixed with a little fresh, crunchy cucumber and larger, succulent shrimp.... as my dad says, it's a song. There is maybe 1 tablespoon of mayo in the whole thing because the cucumbers give off enough moisture to hold it together, and my MIL sprinkles the salad with a little masago (smelt fish roe) for crunch, and it's just... so, so good. No more chunks, no more dull flavors. Every ingredient shines. And best of all (besides the taste) is that it's the quickest dish in the world to make. If you have your ingredients ready, give yourself 5-10 minutes with the food processor and it's done. Bring a little Russian flavor to your holiday table this Thanksgiving!

Best Crab Salad Ever
(via my MIL)
makes a large bowl

1 lb crab meat, cooked
1 lb medium shrimp, cooked, peeled and tails off
6 eggs, hardboiled
6 small cucumbers (or one of the huge English cucumbers)
1-2 T mayonnaise
2-3 T masago (optional)

Put all your ingredients in prep bowls and make a large salad bowl ready.

Put the crab meat in the food processor and give it a few pulses until the crab is reduced to tiny flakes and no large pieces remain. Turn the crab out into the salad bowl.

Cut the hardboiled eggs in half and put into the bowl of the food processor, processing for a few seconds until the eggs too are reduced to small pieces and no large pieces remain. Turn out into a bowl next to the crab. I usually do this in two additions (so 3 eggs at a time), but if you have a larger food processor, you might be able to put all the eggs in there at once.

Chop the cucumbers very roughly and do the same thing with the food processor (a fwe pulses of 2/3 seconds each usually suffice). Watch out not to process too much so that the cucumbers don't become slush. Turn out into the salad bowl.

Remove the tails from the shrimp and turn them out into the bowl as well (reserving a few for decoration). Mix the lot with about a tablespoon of mayo. Add more mayo, salt and pepper to taste, making sure all the ingredients are distributed evenly. If you are using masago, mix in about 2 tablespoons with the rest of the ingredients. Arrange the left over shrimp on top decoratively (and if using masago, sprinkle with the left-over tablespoon of masago).

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Honey-Glazed Salmon & Arugula Salad with Lemon-Pepper Dressing

You know how sometimes, you go shopping and you see in the corner an unassuming little black dress... And you walk away because, well, you already have three of those hanging in your closet and it'll probably be too plain and you wanted something a little jazzier for the summer anyway? And then you notice a little something out of the corner of your eye, and you turn around, and there it is again, sort of... winking at you? So, you sigh and decided to FINE, give it a try, totally expecting it to be meh and blah and whatever. Then, you put it on and turn to the mirror... and the dress just sings in the way it hugs all the right curves and brings out your eyes and puts a little blush into your cheeks, and you think, "hot damn, it works!"

Well. This recipe was something akin to that experience for me. I stared at it for about a month, sort of intrigued but not really inspired enough to give it a go, until one day, I just had all the ingredients together, and I had the recipe, and ... it sort of winked at me. And I said, FINE, I'll try it out, but I was really kind of skeptical about how it's all going to work. I made the salmon. I tasted it - too sweet! I made the salad. I tasted it - too tart! And then... I tasted them TOGETHER, cooled by a sip (or two, or three; ok, by a couple of glasses) of a dry white wine, and kids, I had the sort of "hot damn, it works" revelation that did actually put the blush back in my cheeks (although, maybe the wine had something to do with that).


I don't make salmon very often, mostly because I eat it at restaurants and it's almost always prepared the same way. In this dish, however, the balance of flavors is so perfect -- sweetness offset by tartness, crispness in perfect harmony with creaminess, tender pink salmon blushing next to the emerald arugula leaves -- that it gives this little black dress a whole new twist.

Honey-Glazed Salmon and Arugula Salad with Lemon-Pepper Dressing
(Adapted from Bon Appetit, March 2008)
6 6-oz salmon fillets (I had 4 slightly larger pieces)
3 tablespoons plus 2 tsp lemon juice, divided
2 tablespoons of honey
1 tablespoon plus 2 tsp olive oil
1 large shallot, chopped
1 1/2 cups arugula
1 cup creme fraiche or sour cream
2 sprigs of rosemary
6 lemon wedges for garnishing
salt and pepper

Whisk honey, 1 tbsp olive oil, chopped shallots and 2 tbsp lemon juice in a small bowl. Place the salmon fillets in a large dish that will hold all of them in a row, rub rosemary over them, then pour marinade on top and stir to coat. Cover and chill for 15 min - 1 hr, turning salmon fillets occasionally.

Position rack in top third of the oven and preheat to 400F. Line a large baking sheet with foil and brush with olive oil. Transfer salmon fillets with some marinade still clinging, to baking sheet and roast until salmon is opaque in center, about 14-16 min.

Meanwhile, toss the arugula leaves in 2 teaspoons of lemon juice and 2 teaspoons of olive oil. Season with salt and pepper. In a small bowl, whisk creme freiche or sour cream with 1 tbsp lemon juice, and season with salt and pepper.

Place 1 salmon fillet on each plate. Place some of the arugula salad next to the salmon and drizzle the salad with the creme fraiche dressing. Garnish with lemon wedges, and pass some additional sauce alongside. Personally, I liked the sauce so much that I just tossed it with the salad, but the presentation isn't as impressive as the drizzling and garnishing bit, so I guess it depends on your audience. My particular audience (pictured digging in above) was just coming from work and very hungry. He grabbed the plate so fast that I was afraid he would take off my arm along with the plate. As you can imagine, the dainty drizzling really wasn't an option here!

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A Fish Called Wanda, or "Darling, you're what's for dinner"

Ever since the sushi-making party two weeks ago, I've been fascinated with the similarities and differences in languages. It's so boring to be called "sweetheart" or "my love" or "dear" or some other cliché tender little thing, don't you think? Years and years of that would drive me up the wall. I'd much rather be called "ma petite chou" (my little cabbage, French) or "minha batatinha" (my little potato, Portuguese). Of course, I'd draw the line at "ma petite puce" (my little flea, Fr. - no, really). I knew a Persian girl once whose name was Mozhgan - translated as "eyelash." I'm guessing her parents thought it was nice at some point in time (why? oh, why?!) And as I make fun of my mom for calling kids "kurochka," which means little chicken in Russian, I remember that my own husband sometimes calls me "ribka" - a FISH (remind me to have a wee bit of a chat with him about that). Because fish are so -- erm -- cute... and sweet? No, just no. Except that Nemo kid, he was ok, even if the little guy was a bit too excitable.

Because I loved the moment in Shrek where a cutesy little bird explodes and Fiona just shrugs and makes omelette out of the eggs, the "fish" endearment made me think of my darling little tilapia fillets just sitting in my freezer and awaiting their turn on the dinner menu. And if you are already going to call fish "darling," and then promptly eat it, you may as well make the remainder of its existence a little sweeter and pair it with sweet peppers. Ha! Oh, the cruel irony. I'm sure the tilapia hadn't appreciated it, but we certainly did, in more ways than one.

So tell me, and don't be shy -- what are the strangest endearments that you've ever been called?



Tilapia With Sweet Peppers
(Williams & Sonoma recipe)
4 tilapia fillets (boneless)
1/4 cup all purpose flour
1/2 tsp paprika
3 red, orange or yellow bell peppers, seeded and sliced
1 large garlic clove, sliced
1/4 tsp dried oregano
1/4 cup chicken or vegetable stock
2 tbsp olive oil
1 tsp sherry vinegar or balsamic vinegar
salt and pepper to taste


In a deep fry pan over medium heat, warm 1 tbsp of olive oil. Add the bell peppers and cook, stirring frequently, for 2 minutes. Add the garlic and oregano. Sautee for about a minute, until the garlic is fragrant. Add stock, a pinch of salt and a pinch of pepper. Cover and cook until peppers are tender and most of the liquid has evaporated, about 20 minutes.

When the peppers are nearly done, turn to the fish. Season both sides of the tilapia fillets with salt, a dash of pepper and paprika. Lightly dredge each fillet in the flour, shaking off the extra. Heat 1 tbsp of olive oil in a fry pan over medium heat. Add the fillets to the pan and cook until golden brown, about 3 minutes per side.

At this point, the peppers should be done. Turn off the heat, stir in the vinegar and taste to adjust seasoning. Transfer the fillets to individual plates and spoon the peppers over each fillet. As always, a nice arugula salad and a glass of chilled white wine (mmmm... a crisp Sauvignon Blanc) just hits the spot with this dish. I've made this for weeknight meals (it only takes 1/2 hr to make, it's easy, tasty and actually good for you), and I've served it for lunch/brunch to guests, all with equally good results.

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Sunday Night Blues, or Girls With Toys

I don't know about you, but I get this thing on Sunday nights that I call the Sunday Night Blues. It's this strange feeling that the weekend is almost over (but not yet), the start of a new week is almost here (but not yet), and you're meandering listlessly somewhere in between. Stuck in a sort of blah-limbo where everything is grey and undefined and you really don't know what to do with yourself except open a bottle of wine and whittle the hours away (oh, wait, is that just me?).



What's even worse is that sometimes, when the weather outside is gloomy and very un-California-like (Um, rain? I really don't think so), my Sunday Night Blues start somewhere around lunch-time, and the sense of anticipation is often worse than the event itself. Even watching a shirtless David Beckham (!) train in Hawaii (!!) didn't do anything for me. Yeah, that's how bad it was. Fortunately, I have friend, Shushana, who is almost telepathically connected to me -- which I'm sure has been a great source of annoyance to her over the years -- and she decided to be a trooper and undertake the Herculian task of cheering me up.



After years and years of wanting to, Shushana, that brave soul, is finally indulging her passion by opening her own online home and kitchenware business. When she heard my gloom-and-doom voice over the phone, she knew that drastic measures were needed. She invited me to play with her toys. Squee! Oh my... Can you imagine rows and rows of neatly packaged pots and pans, spatulas and colanders, dinner plates and teacups? I mean, if that doesn't alleviate the Sunday Night Blues, I really don't know what would!



After walking around her stockroom for half an hour and touching all the samples (I didn't even break anything, that's how pretty it all was), I finally picked out a gleaming pot and pan set. Then, to celebrate, we fired up the stove and decided to send my new toys on their maiden voyage. We cracked her beautiful yet sadly neglected Persian cookbook and an hour later, we had a dish that was so tasty, tender, colorful and full of flavor, that my bad mood disappeared along with the last traces of the chicken (which we didn't fight over because we are both too ladylike, of course... *cough*).

Peach Khoresh (Persian stew with chicken and peaches)
(Adapted from "New Food of Life" by Najmieh Batmanglij)
1 large onion, sliced thinly
4 chicken breasts
3 tbsp olive oil
2 tsp Persian spice mix (see below)*
3/4 cup water
1/4 cup fresh lemon or lime juice
1 tbsp sugar
1/4 tsp ground saffron dissolved in 1 tbsp hot water
3 firm peaches
salt and pepper to taste

In a Dutch oven (or a medium, heavy pot) heat 2 tbsp of oil. Brown the onions and the chicken together, about 3 min per each side of the chicken. Add salt, pepper and the Persian spice mix. Pour in 3/4 cup of water. Cover and simmer on low heat for 30 minutes.

Mix together the lemon or lime juice, sugar and saffron water and stir the mixture into the chicken. Cover and simmer for 5 minutes.

While simmering, heat 1 tbsp oil in a medium fry pan on moderate heat. Remove pits and cut the peaches into 1/2 inch wedges. Brown the peaches until golden, about 4/5 minutes. Add to the chicken, cover, and simmer for 30 minutes longer.

Serve right away with white Basmati rice. Oh yeah.

*Persian spice mix
These spices add a lot of tenderness and flavor to any chicken or meat dish. You can find them in any Persian market or buy them online.
2 tbsp ground dried rose petals (I couldn't find these anywhere, so I was forced to skip this beautiful sounding ingredient)
1 1/2 tbsp cinnamon
1 tbsp dried Persian lime powder
1 tsp ground cardamom
1/2 tsp ground black pepper
2 tsp ground angelica
1 tsp ground nutmeg
1/2 tsp ground coriander seeds
1 tsp ground cumin

Throw it all together and give it a good shake. Store in a dry place with other spices.

By the way, I was asked recently if I get paid for anything that I talk about in my blog. The answer is: no. If I use a product and I like it, I write about it. I don't make any money and I don't get freebies (sad, but true, though I wouldn't say no to a Kitchenaid stand mixer - Cobalt Blue, please, if anyone is listening).

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Arroz Con Pollo

On Saturday night, I went to a sushi-making party at a friend's house. It was one of those international evenings, where almost everyone is from a different country and you can hear at least four languages that you don't understand (five, counting English, which I also stop understanding after the third shot of sake...). Two of the girls were Chinese and they were telling us that Cantonese has nine different intonations - that's right, NINE. So potentially, one word can have nine different meanings. They gave a couple of examples, and really, I'm not sure I should ever learn Cantonese because, especially after a few drinks, we would have big problems of the YOU IDIOT!-oh...-I mean,-please-pass-the-pepper variety.

I had a similar reaction when I initially began researching recipes for arroz con pollo, which a friend asked me to make (how did you guys like that transition? Smooth, huh!). Arroz con pollo is practically the national dish in many Latin American countries, and when I saw the variations with which it is made, my eyes rolled back into my head and I felt like chucking the whole undertaking there and then because, how can I compete with the cooks in Latin America, creators of all things dulce de leche, ceviche, asado, empanadas, tamales and a million other delicacies with such mouth-watering names as "Churrasco," "Mariscada," and "Pamplona de pollo"?

After a tolerably brief (and mostly successful) wrestle with panic, however, your intrepid heroine then took a long, deep breath and defrosted the chicken. Because, as everyone knows, after you defrost the chicken, there is just no going back.

I decided to go back to the basics and use just the ingredients that most people have in their pantry. Because delicious doesn't always have to mean a trip to the market, right? Keep in mind that there are countless variations. I saw a three page debate about the use of bell peppers alone, and don't even get me started on the saffron mafia (they are very, very scary). Some people use chorizo, which they fry right before the onions are added, and some people throw in a handful of cooked peas at the end. Whatever you do, it's easy to add your own choice of spices and veggies based on what you have on hand or on how fancy you want to make the dish. At its base, however, arroz con pollo is a hearty, colorful, satisfying one-pot dish that earned me a really loud "MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM...." from my family, and that is really the only thing that matters. I used this recipe from Simply Recipes as my base.

Arroz con pollo
For the chicken:
4 chicken thighs (or 2 thighs and 2 breasts, or whatever pieces of chicken you happen to have at the moment that would serve 4 people)
Paprika
2 tbsp olive oil
Flour for dredging
For the rice:
1 cup of rice (I usually use jasmine or basmati rice, but short grain is more traditional)
2 cups of chicken stock* OR 1 cup chicken stock and 1 cup saffron water**
1 cup diced tomatoes (canned or fresh; liquid drained if canned)
1 tbsp tomato paste
1/2 yellow onion, diced
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tsp oregano
1 tsp dried thyme
1/2 tsp cumin
salt & pepper to taste

Heat 1 1/2 tbsp olive oil in a large skillet that has a cover on medium heat. In a bowl, combine flour, paprika, salt and pepper. Dredge the chicken in the mixture, shaking off the excess flour. Brown the chicken for a couple of minutes on either side until nicely golden, sprinkling some more paprika on top. Remove chicken from the pan and set aside.



Add the rice to the pan to brown. Stir it first to coat in olive oil and then leave for about a minute. Then stir again, not too often, to continue until the rice is also a golden color, about 2 more minutes. Be careful not to burn the rice (like I did). Add the chopped onions, garlic and chopped bell peppers, if using. Sprinkle a little salt on it and sautee, stirring often, until the onions are soft, about 4/5 minutes (add the additional 1/2 tbsp of olive oil if you feel that it's going to burn).



Place the chicken skin side up on top of the rice. In a bowl, mix the chicken stock (and saffron water, if using) with the chopped tomatoes and tomato paste. Pour over the chicken and rice. Sprinkle with a little more salt and pepper, oregano, thyme, cumin and any other spice you want to use (hello, chili powder and smoked paprika!). Bring to a simmer, reduce heat to low, cover tightly and simmer for 20-25 minutes (depending on the instructions on the rice package) until the chicken and the rice are done. At this point, you can sprinkle in the peas if you want. Fluff the rice with a fork and enjoy. I'd tell you to wait until it cools, but it looked and smelled so good that we totally didn't, so why should you?



*Please follow the directions on the box for the rice when you do the proportions of liquid to rice -- mine was 1:2, but I've seen 1:1.5 sometimes, so you have to be careful.

**If you want to use saffron in the dish (I didn't), dissolve 1/4 tsp saffron in 1 cup of boiling water.

Continued after the jump...

Chicken Milanese

As I was driving home from work today, I was struck with the realization that I did not, emphatically did not want to cook dinner. I was exhausted, I was uninspired and cooking dinner seemed more like a chore, an unfair obligation, than a delight for the senses that food usually promises to be.

Did we women have it easier 50 years ago? Is this whole modern feminism/independence thing we have going just a bunch of hogwash? Should we go back to the time when it was the man's job to make money and all a woman was expected to do was look pretty, teach the kids how to say "Daddy" and fry up a couple of cutlets once in a while? Today, a woman has to do everything - she has to work, she has to look like a model, she has to cook and clean and take care of the little ones, and the guys still think it's emasculating to wash the dishes (well, not my guy, but some do). The question isn't as simple as it sounds -- if you put it like that, what have we gained, a 40 (and in some cases 60, 70, 80) hour workweek, in addition to all our other responsibilities?

Of course, the tough answer is, is that we have gained a choice. And that, my friends, while it is intangible and indefinable and not always pleasant, is nothing to sneeze at. Many girls I know still want to marry for money and many girls I know don't want families at all; and now, they each can pursue their own unique path to happiness, whether it includes being a domestic goddess, a corporate powerhouse or a little bit of both. The knowledge that the road less traveled doesn't have a "boys only" sign barring it makes it all worth it for me. Even on evenings when I despise having to be the chef in the family.

Abigail Adams wrote to her husband in 1776: "Men of sense in all ages abhor those customs which treat us only as the (servants) of your sex; regard us then as being placed by Providence under your protection, and in imitation of the Supreme Being make use of that power only for our happiness...we have it in our power, not only to free ourselves, but to subdue our masters, and without violence, throw both your natural and legal authority at our feet." Sheesh. Thank goodness those times are gone!!! Therefore, I do not speak lightly of our choices. How much sweeter life is when you know that the work you have done is your own, and that when you make dinner for your family, you do it out of love and not because it is the only thing you are allowed to do.

Chicken Milanese

2 chicken breasts
1 cup bread crumbs
1/4 cup parmesan cheese
1 egg, lightly beaten
1 tsp dried oregano
1 tsp dried basil
salt and pepper to taste


Warm some olive oil on the skillet over medium heat. Put the breadcrumbs in one bowl and lightly beat the egg in another bowl. Mix the oregano, basil and Parmesan cheese with the breadcrumbs.

Lightly tenderize the chicken to about 1/2 inch thickness; season it well with salt and pepper. When the oil is hot but not smoking, dip each chicken breast into the egg first and then into the breadcrumbs mixture, and then put them side by side in the pan. The breadcrumbs I used were homemade (I left bread to dry on the counter for a day and then whizzed it in my food processor until fine crumbs formed). Cook the chicken about 4 minutes per side or until there is no pink in the middle when you cut a piece off to take your first juicy bite.

And when it's late at night and you are tired from a full day of work, and your husband watches TV upstairs while you cook, just remember Abigail Adams and repeat to yourself: I am doing this out of love... But do me a favor and make sure he does the dishes!

Continued after the jump...