Poultry

The town of Puebla, a serene and peaceful oasis about one hour south from the congestion and commotion of Mexico City, is known for its charming inns that serve a rich array of traditional dishes. The most famous mole (the word is from a pre-Columbian language of Mexico and means a sauce that is blended with more than one chile or ingredient) originated in the kitchen of a large, wealthy Puebla convent with chocolate as its most acclaimed ingredient. But there are six other moles from the region. This filling, the green mole that uses all fresh herbs and fresh green chiles, is one of the simpler ones and the one that I usually eat for breakfast at the market—one huge bowl of chicken mole verde with fresh warm corn tortillas. Admittedly, it is a little time-consuming, but your effort will be rewarded with enough mole sauce to use for these tacos and many others. Leftover mole will keep in the refrigerator for at least a week, or you can freeze it for up to 3 months. This sauce makes a tasty complement to chicken, turkey, fish, and pork.

The Spanish word tinga means “unruly” or “messy.” But there is nothing messy about the wonderful flavors of this dish with its layers of smoky and sweet. The browned chicken has accents of balsamic vinegar, roasted sweet peppers, and chiles—a sort of Mexican chicken cacciatore. I consider it one of Mexican cuisine’s top ten classic dishes. Tinga tacos are a perennial favorite in northern New Mexico and can have other fillings beside chicken. In addition to tacos or burritos, this filling—really a homey soul-satisfying stew—can be served in a bowl over rice. It also makes a great bocadillo, a Mexican sandwich served on a square crispy roll. To reduce the heat level of this dish, decrease or leave out the chipotle puree.

Tortellini are traditionally served in broth; Basic Chicken Stock (page 41) or Basic Brown Stock (page 50) would be equally delicious.

Duck confit is just one example of how leftover meat can be used to make savory fillings. Short ribs, osso bucco, or lamb shanks are other good options. Just make sure to chop the meat finely enough to be wrapped neatly within tender pasta (without tearing the dough). You can alter the flavorings to suit your palate or the type of meat, but the egg yolks are always required for binding. This filling is especially good with the spinach pasta (page 368), as shown for the agnolotti on page 370.

This simple yet timeless Italian dish demonstrates beautifully the process of sautéing: cutlets—most often chicken or veal—are dredged with flour, then sautéed in a mixture of olive oil and butter, a typical combination that is practical and flavorful. The flour encourages the chicken to form a light crust (and helps thicken the pan sauce), the butter helps it to brown, and the oil raises the smoke point so the butter doesn’t brown too much before the chicken is cooked through. A simple pan sauce is the only accompaniment, and is designed to make good use of the tasty browned bits left in the pan from cooking the chicken.

This roasting technique is unique to duck. For the skin to turn crisp, the thick layer of fat that covers the breast needs to be rendered. That’s the reason for the slow roasting at a low temperature (300°F as opposed to 450°F for chicken). This allows the duck enough time in the oven to render the fat before the breast meat has finished cooking, producing a duck with crisp, golden skin. To offset its richness, duck is often coated with a tangy glaze. In this recipe, the classic duck à l’orange, which put French-style duck on the American map, has been updated with a glaze that combines the flavors of pomegranate, honey, and orange.

A composed salad of marinated seasonal vegetables becomes a main course when fortified with sliced poached chicken. Not only is this an economical way to stretch a meal, it is practical in other ways, too. For starters, many of the components can be prepared (and refrigerated) ahead, and when served as shown, guests can select the ingredients they prefer. This salad offers an array of springtime’s fresh bounty, including asparagus, new potatoes, leeks, and artichokes, all gently cooked just until tender. You can adapt this formula to take advantage of whatever is in season throughout the year.

Poaching chicken breasts on the bone results in more flavorful and juicy meat than poached boneless breasts. It’s also harder to overcook the meat. The aromatics used in the poaching liquid below are designed to add flavor to the chicken, but Basic Chicken Stock (page 41) can be used to similar effect. Poached chicken has myriad uses: add shredded chicken to soups, casseroles, pot pies, and Mexican dishes such as enchiladas, burritos, and quesadillas, or to all kinds of green salads. This one’s a particular favorite: Cut the chicken in to 1-inch pieces and toss with chopped tomatoes and cucumbers, torn fresh basil leaves, shredded Romaine, and a creamy dressing, such as Green Goddess (page 359).

Portion-size cuts of meat or chicken take a relatively short amount of time to cook through (as opposed to, say, a whole chicken or leg of lamb), so you can’t rely on the high temperature of the oven to sear the surface of the meat to a golden brown. (In other words, it would take longer for the meat to brown on the outside than to cook through on the inside.) Instead, the meat is first seared on the stove. This recipe is for chicken breast halves (with the skin left on during cooking for added flavor and to keep the meat from drying out), but the method can be used to cook thick pork or lamb chops; skin-on fish fillets, such as bass, salmon, and snapper; or even steaks, such as porterhouse or T-bone, which take too long to cook entirely on the stove. Pan-roasting is frequently practiced in restaurants, as it allows chefs to get a nice crust on the meat and then quickly finish it in the oven. Choose quick-cooking vegetables and other accompaniments, such as the grape tomatoes here, so that everything is ready at once.

Few dishes are as gratifying to prepare (and eat) as a simple roast chicken. Every cook should have this technique in his or her repertoire. It may seem like an easy feat, but making the best roast chicken—with crisp, golden skin and tender, juicy meat—takes some dexterity. The challenge lies in the bird itself, with the lean breast meat requiring less time to cook than the richer, fattier legs. Moreover, there’s the goal of achieving the proper degrees of crispness, color, flavor, and moistness. Many recipes require you to turn and baste the chicken as it cooks, or to start at a lower temperature (presumably to allow the inside to cook through), then finish at a higher temperature (to crisp the skin). The technique in this recipe relies on “fast and high” roasting, whereby the chicken is cooked in a hot (450°F) oven for the entire time. Keep in mind that roast chicken is infinitely adaptable, and consider this recipe as the starting point for creating your own variations. Building flavor can be accomplished in many ways. You can stuff the cavity with fresh herbs, such as thyme, sage, or savory; citrus slices; or other aromatics, such as garlic or onion. Or make a rack of sliced onion, then place the bird on top. Spreading butter over the skin makes it even more brown and crisp; tucking butter and herbs under the skin has a similar effect and adds another flavor component. (These steps will also lend much flavor to the pan sauce.) You can roast potatoes, carrots, parsnips, or other vegetables along with the chicken for a practically effortless one-pan dish. Also, you may want to roast two birds, side by side (leaving room between for ample browning); with a roast chicken in the refrigerator—it will keep for days—other dishes are within easy reach. Shred the meat to toss into green salads or to add to soups, casseroles, or pasta dishes. Or combine it with mayonnaise for a sandwich filling.

Curry paste, the flavor base for many Indian stews, often begins with a puree of onion, garlic, and ginger, which is sautéed with spice blends (masalas) until golden brown and caramelized. There are countless varieties of curry pastes in Indian cooking, and the one in this recipe is among the most basic and traditional. The spice blends used in Indian curries are first either toasted in a dry pan or sautéed in oil; in both methods, the heat stimulates the oils in the spices—you’ll know they are ready when they are fragrant (keep a very close eye on them, to prevent burning). Once you’ve mastered the technique, you can make a variety of curries using fish, shrimp, beef, lamb, goat, or one or more vegetables, such as cauliflower or peas and potatoes.

Making homemade pâté, of course, is all about grinding. Here again, you can always buy a ready-made pâté from a specialty store, but making your own allows you total command of the quality of the ingredients and the freshness of the finished product. This recipe is for a country-style pâté, which means that it’s more rustic in texture and appearance than a smoother, mousse-like pâté. Country-style pâté usually includes chicken liver as well as pork and veal. The mixture is ground coarsely, and small cubes of meat, bits of fruit, and nuts—called garnishes—are folded in before the whole thing is packed into a terrine and baked. Maintaining the desired texture depends on making sure that all the ingredients—as well as the grinding equipment itself—are well chilled before you grind. Place everything in the freezer (the grinder for a half hour, the meat for fifteen minutes or so), so it’s very cold, then grind the meats according to their fat content, starting with the fattiest, as these are most likely to lose their structure and become pasty if ground when warm. After baking the terrine in a water bath (bain marie), the final, vital step is weighting the pâté to compress it, eliminating excess moisture and fat and giving it a sliceable texture. Once the terrine is compressed and well chilled, unmold it, then slice with a serrated knife, which will cut cleanly without marring the shape. Serve with its classic accompaniments: good bread, a flavorful grainy mustard, and cornichons.

Consommer means “to accomplish” or “to finish” in French, and consommé is indeed a “finished” stock. (In a culinary context, one could say that to make a consommé is to bring out in full all of the flavors.) What gives consommé its purity and clarity is a bit of culinary magic: Egg whites (combined with mirepoix and ground meat) coagulate in the soup and rise to the top (forming a “raft”), drawing up any impurities that would otherwise cloud the stock. This mixture also infuses the broth with deeper flavor, as does an onion brûlé (or charred onion), which imparts deeper color to the broth. After an hour or two of simmering, the raft is also discarded, leaving behind a clear, intense broth. Consommé can be served either hot or cold, usually garnished in some way or another (there are literally hundreds employed in formal French cuisine); one of the more common embellishments is vegetables cut into julienne or brunoise (page 14), such as the blanched carrot and leek shown here.

Next time you want to welcome guests Southern-style, cook up a batch (or two) of crisp fried chicken. It’s hard to imagine anything else that exudes both down-home appeal and true culinary wizardry. The recipe here is for one chicken, but you can easily double the ingredients to fry two. Whenever you are preparing a mixture for dredging, start off by whisking together only half the amounts called for; then, if you find you need more, whisk together the rest. Many recipes call for more dredging ingredients than you’ll need, and the excess must be discarded because it came into contact with raw meat. Or, you can whisk everything together, transfer some to the bowl for dredging, and then freeze any unused (and untainted) portion in a resealable plastic bag. When pan-frying most foods, you do not want to crowd the pan. But fried chicken is an exception. Placing more pieces in the pan helps to stabilize the temperature of the oil during frying so that it does not spike as much or as quickly. The chicken can be soaked in ice water overnight in a covered dish in the refrigerator to remove any blood or impurities; be sure to change the water a few times. If you prefer a thicker crust, double dredge: coat the chicken in the flour mixture and let sit for 15 minutes, then dredge in the flour again, tapping off excess.

A flattened, or spatchcocked, chicken will cook more quickly and evenly than when left intact. The parts that take the longest to cook (legs and wings) are conveniently on the edges (meaning they are exposed to more heat), while the quicker-cooking breast is in the center (where it is insulated a bit from the heat). The origin of the term spatchcock is debatable, but one theory has it that it derives from “dispatch the cock,” apparently shorthand for “prepare the chicken for roasting over a spit.” No matter its past, cooks today understand that to spatchcock a chicken is to remove the backbone and open it like a book. While most commonly used for chicken that will be grilled or broiled, the method also works well for roasting. To further promote even cooking, the flattened chicken is weighted with a foil-wrapped brick while it grills, a technique borrowed from an Italian dish known as pollo al mattone (“chicken under a brick”). Brining helps keep the meat tender and juicy, and glazing adds another layer of flavor and promotes browning. In this recipe, citrus marries the brine and glaze, but you can forgo the glaze and make a brine solution of only salt, sugar, and water. A good ratio is 1 cup of coarse salt (never table salt, which will cause the meat to taste too salty) and 1/2 cup sugar to 1 gallon of water. For best results, brine the chicken for at least 1 hour and no more than 3 hours (any longer and the meat can develop an unpleasant texture).

Duck breast, long considered a delicacy in French cuisine, is exceptionally moist and tender when properly prepared. The breast is small enough to cook in a pan (rather than having to roast the whole bird) and it needs no flour or added fat to develop a crisp golden crust. You do need to follow a few special rules, however, as duck has quite a bit of fat under its skin. Duck should always be cooked sufficiently to render out its fat, some of which is poured off and reserved for another use (such as roasting potatoes or sautéing vegetables). To render fat, the duck is cooked first on its skin side, then turned over to finish cooking through. The desired degree of doneness depends on whom you ask; some cooks insist that the breast meat should always remain pink, while others would have you cook it further (the USDA, for example, recommends cooking to 170°F). In the recipe that follows, the time given should result in a medium-rare (pinkish) interior after the duck has rested, so cook it longer if you prefer it more well done. The rich taste of duck makes it a fine partner for fruit, especially orange (think of the French standby, duck à l’orange). Here it is served with a sweet-and-sour sauce called gastrique, made by caramelizing sugar and then deglazing the pan with an acidic liquid, such as vinegar or citrus juice (this recipe uses both). This dish would pair particularly well with mashed or pureed turnips or sautéed bitter greens.

Instead of stuffing and roasting a whole turkey, you can use the same two components to create an equally delicious—and arguably more elegant—dish that cooks in less time. This recipe borrows a method commonly used with a breast of veal or leg of lamb (it can be applied to a whole chicken, as well). First, the meat is boned and butterflied, then slathered with a flavorful filling, rolled up into a log (called a ballotine in French culinary terminology), and roasted in the oven. This technique actually helps avoid some common roasting pitfalls. Butterflying the meat first makes it an even thickness throughout, and rolling it around a savory filling helps compensate for the lack of bone (bones hold on to moistness during cooking, as well as impart flavor). The ballotine is still quite dense, however, so there is a risk of drying out the outer layer before the inside is cooked through. That’s why it gets covered in the (first removed and then replaced) layer of skin, then wrapped and tied in a tight cheesecloth bundle and rubbed with a generous amount of butter before roasting. Removing the bird at 155°F and letting it rise to 165°F upon resting is one last step that keeps it from overcooking. The end result? Tender turkey meat surrounded by crisp, brown skin, and a perfect portion of stuffing in each neat slice. The Italian-inspired stuffing is made with sausage, rosemary, and dried sour cherries, a refreshing alternative to cranberries but with a similar sweet-tart flavor.

A specialty of the southwest of France, cassoulet—named for cassole, the oval earthenware dish in which it was made—is a rich, slow-cooked bean stew made with white beans, meats (most often pork and sausages), and duck or goose confit. The dish is time consuming—it can take an entire day from start to finish—but is manageable when you break it into three tasks, which can be spaced out over a few days. The first step is to prepare Duck Confit (see page 232). Next the beans (which have to be soaked overnight) are cooked on the stove. Then the confit and beans are layered in a pot, along with pork and sausage, and baked for about three hours.

Liver is another good option for sautéing, since it cooks so quickly, inside and out. A simple dredging in seasoned flour is all that’s required; soaking the liver in milk first will mellow its flavor and tenderize the meat. Be sure to pat the liver dry before coating; otherwise the flour will form clumps, which can fall off in the pan. Liver and onions is a classic dish, and can be prepared by caramelizing some sliced onion (two onions would be plenty for four servings) in butter before browning the liver. Then finish by returning the onion to the pan just to heat through. Or serve with Tomato and Onion Confit (on page 306), as pictured.