Poultry

We call R. B.’s house the Cave. His pals love his Shangri-la of music, motorcycles, guitars, cold beer, and firewood, where caveman chitchat comfortably drifts into menswear sales, paint colors, and advances in toaster oven technology. Turkey drums fit the Cave scene with ease. All rubbed and sauced, Caveman Drums enable cavemen to maintain cavelike machismo while tiptoeing around the perimeter of their feelings. Bottled wing sauces are a cheater cinch, but, c’mon, be a man. Brush on a cheater interstate sauce (pages 38 to 43). You better have some stored in the fridge.

If you’re a fan of dark-meat chicken, move up to Five-Star Duck Legs. The great thing is that it’s getting much easier to find fresh duck breasts and legs, not just rock-hard frozen whole ducks that take a week to thaw. Pick one part, because breasts and legs are complete opposites. While the breasts are best cooked like a medium-rare steak, the legs are better slow-cooked like barbecue. Simple foil pouches make the whole procedure easy to manage. Duck legs reheat beautifully and take well to a brush-on glaze at the end.

Grilled chicken marinated in Worcestershire and soy sauce was one of the first things R. B.’s Gourmet-subscribing mother, Loie, taught him to cook. It was probably the first marinade he’d ever tasted, and he loved the way it quickly permeated the chicken skin with color and the meat with salty flavor. Later on, he discovered that Loie’s salty black concoction is a common barbecue trick available at the supermarket under several labels. Both the popular store blends and Loie’s homemade pack quite a punch and don’t need much time to work up some flavor on chicken or beef. Here is Loie’s cheater recipe, which you can easily double and store in a sealed container in the fridge. Use it for chicken or a Gunsmoke steak cooked on the grill, in a skillet, or under the broiler.

Cheating doesn’t mean just opening a bottle. As our provider of primo Tennessee hardwood and traveling philosopher, Jerry Elston, likes to remind us, sometimes you can’t get out of doing the work. Like most bottled barbecue sauces, Asian-style sauces are cheater easy and get the point across. But usually they taste overly sweet and empty, with little going for them besides sugar and soy. Here’s a brush-on honey lacquer for dry-rubbed chicken with real Asian flavor using pantry staples and some freshly grated ginger.

One of our top five cheater recipes was inspired by a summer cookout at the Nashville hideout of songwriter/producer Desmond Child, the genius behind scores of hit songs, including “Dude Looks Like a Lady,” “Livin’ on a Prayer,” and “Livin’ La Vida Loca.” Margarita, a member of Desmond’s Miami posse, is an excellent cook and veteran cheater. The chart-topping single of the incredible Cuban feast was Bar-B-Cuban Chicken. After marinating chicken legs and thighs overnight, she cheated big-time by cooking them in the oven before the party. In a matter of minutes, the precooked chicken was effortlessly seared on the grill in a showy haze before a live audience. Garlic and tangy lemon not only filled the air, they had penetrated deep into the meat (and our clothes). Margarita admitted, “I don’t measure and I always use too much garlic. I say, it’s good? No. More.” “How much garlic do you use, Margarita?” “Too much,” she said. This is our cover of Margarita’s smash hit.

One hot Tennessee evening Min’s neighbor, Raj Kumar, handed R. B. a green coconut and a cleaver and said, “Chop the top off that thing. Let’s have a drink.” We love Raj. Dinner at his kitchen table is part spiritual recharge, part therapy, part comedy hour. Even better, Raj knows how to cook. After one question too many from us, he took us to Apna Bazaar, Nashville’s Costco of Indian provisions. Soon every dish we made required two kinds of cardamom pods, a chunk of cinnamon bark, cumin and coriander seeds, mango pickles, and a chutney or two on the side. Raj kindly indulged us in our enthusiasm and, in time, our spicing acquired some much-needed subtlety. As Raj advised, one should wonder about flavor, not be hit over the head with it. Tandoori BBQ Chicken Thighs use bone-in, skinless dark meat typical of Indian cuisine and our balanced dry rub approach, accented with either a simple curry powder or garam masala, both readily available spices. Add cayenne pepper for more bite. When time allows, we adhere to the tandoori tradition of soaking the chicken in plain yogurt before seasoning the meat. In 900°F tandoori ovens, the yogurt ensures moist chicken, and it’s just as worthwhile at home. We often substitute buttermilk for the yogurt because it’s cheaper and coats the meat instantly.

Let’s face it, everything tastes better with bacon, especially chicken breasts in need of a little fat and flavor. You know by now that the boneless, skinless chicken breast is not our top choice, but with a little rub, some smoke, and slow, moist cooking these breasts are okay and ready for casseroles, soups, and sandwiches. Skip the bacon if you’re on a fat-restricted diet.

About fifteen years ago R. B. thought his next-door neighbor, who was out grilling some chicken, called him a jerk. Back then, R. B. hadn’t heard of jerk seasoning, and his neighbor seemed like a nice, quiet fellow who pretty much kept to himself. When R. B. turned down the Bob Marley, everything got straightened out, and the chicken was delicious. A jerk dry rub requires allspice, thyme, and some heat. The Scotch bonnet pepper is the traditional choice, but that’s too many Scoville heat units for us. We keep the heat out of the rub, then sprinkle on cayenne to customize the chicken to suit everyone.

The best part of Thanksgiving weekend might be a postholiday turkey sandwich when the guests are gone and you’re hanging out at home. When you don’t get that sandwich (because somebody wrapped up all the turkey to go home with somebody’s cousin), it can haunt you. No need to wait another year and another holiday. No need to cook a whole turkey, either. Like Hobo Crock Whole Smoked Chicken (page 90), a whole turkey breast does really well wrapped in foil and cooked in a slow cooker. You can even pull off a handsome skin with melted butter mixed with bottled smoke. If you buy a frozen breast, remember to give it a few days in the fridge to thaw completely before cooking.

Adobo is a Filipino obsession like barbecue is in America. The key is slow cooking in a mix of Filipino sugarcane vinegar and soy sauce. We think it has a sour-salty vibe similar to American vinegar barbecue sauces. Filipino sugarcane vinegar is soft and mild, more like Asian rice vinegar than cider vinegar. We stumbled on it at the international market along with Filipino soy sauce. If it’s in Nashville, it’s probably available in most cities in the United States. Not to be confused with Mexican canned chipotle peppers in adobo sauce, this Filipino adobo is a simmering pot of chicken in a tart, salty bath of what probably looks like too much vinegar and soy sauce. You can crisp the chicken on the grill or under the broiler after cooking. Sometimes we use the slow cooker for a pile of soft pulled adobo chicken. Leave out the water and cook the chicken on high for three to four hours. You can also cook beef short ribs or pork butt in the same mix. Whatever the meat or the method, serve it with plenty of white rice.

Poaching sounds chef-toque complicated, but simmering meat in a liquid on the stovetop is pretty straightforward and keeps the kitchen cooler in hot weather. Better yet, poaching is especially good for keeping the usually dry chicken breast meat moist. We even add a smoky component to the poaching liquid for terrific smoked chicken salads and sandwiches. For chicken salad, aim for a balance of smoke, sweet, and savory. The smoke really takes to fresh and dried fruits like green apple, pineapple, mango or papaya, raisins, dried cherries, or cranberries. Parsley and green onion are always a good choice, and celery and good mayonnaise are a must.

A superhot oven is what separates the professionals from the rest of us. While we dream of 900°F, we’re making the most of our enamel-coated cast-iron Dutch oven in 500°F. Chicken cooked in a hot covered pot cheats your way to moist meat and crisp dry-rubbed salty skin just like the pros. Whole chickens are easy to cut in half with poultry shears, a sharp knife, or a cleaver, or have your meat guy do it. First, get the pot raging hot. Start the chicken halves skin side down to sear in the juices. Flip halfway through cooking and leave the cover off to crisp the skin. Good pot holders and tongs are a must. Skip the sauce because the skin is killer good.

The hobo crock method was inspired by R. B.’s Boy Scout campout foil hobo-pack cuisine. Cheater hobo crock meats take advantage of this simple method for infusing foods with flavor and trapping moisture. Meats are tightly wrapped with seasonings and bottled smoke and placed in a slow cooker. The cool thing is that you won’t open the pack to find a pile of soggy skin and bones, as you might expect. The chicken maintains its structure, browns on top, and can be carved and sliced. This method will also successfully tame a beef brisket (page 113). Indoors or out, the only issue we have is over the grade of aluminum foil for wrapping the bird. R. B. requires heavy duty—one of those barbecue guy things. Min uses the thinner, everyday stuff because she knows that the juices are going to leak into the crock anyway, so who cares whether the cheaper foil springs a hole or two.

Frying chicken is like outdoor barbecue: Sometimes we just don’t have the energy to do the work. In a pinch, chicksticks make a nice pile of crispy chicken strips with a high crust-to-bite ratio. Our trick is to roll the chicken breast strips in a mix of oil and bottled smoke before breading. Serve them hot or cold and take them anywhere. Kids love them with ketchup and honey mustard; sports fans drag them through buffalo sauce or chipotle ketchup (see Note). Cut them up to top a Caesar salad. Load them in a hoagie roll with pickles, mayo, and lettuce. For fancier meals, serve them with fresh lemon.

Super Pollo is a hybrid Mexican-American barbecue chicken restaurant in Nashville that combines Tennessee hickory smoke with chili-rubbed chicken, corn tortillas, and fresh salsas. Unlike the more traditional barbecue shack approach where chicken doused in sweet sauce plays second fiddle to pulled pork, ribs, and brisket, here the cumin-and-chili-rubbed chicken is the star. Handmade corn tortillas replace the usual corn cakes, and rich soupy pintos replace the standard sweet barbecue baked beans. We smoky-brine our Super Pollo first and spice it up with Cheater Chili Dry Rub. Serve with tortillas, pintos, rice, and plenty of salsa and pickled jalapeños.

A crock of pulled smoked chicken is the original white meat’s answer to pulled pork. And because it’s chicken, it has endless uses in sandwiches, casseroles, soups and stews, tacos, and burritos. The key is having the chicken cooked, pulled, and ready to go; then you can bid farewell to that dried-out supermarket rotisserie bird. An hour in a simple saltwater brine adds moisture and freshens up the bird. We limit brining time for smaller cuts like chicken pieces and pork chops to an hour to keep the salt flavor under control. When we brine for longer periods, we usually go lighter on the dry rub or switch to Cheater No-Salt Dry Rub (page 47). To us, the best pulled chicken is all dark meat or a light and dark meat combination. If you use breast meat only, the meat will be stringier and noticeably drier. There’s nothing you can do about it except brine first and add sauce at the end.

Like fried chicken and good corn bread, oven drums are all about the crust. The key to Hot-Oven Drums is to get the skin working for you. Hot-Oven Drums are inspired by Nashville’s cultish hot pan-fried chicken that’s dusted-to-dredged in cayenne pepper. Proceed with caution! Here the skillet meets the oven. The bread crumbs, dry rub, and oil keep the Hot-Oven Drums crisp and the cayenne pepper, added right before cooking, lets you control the heat. Serve the drums just like chicken wings with ranch or blue cheese dressing and celery and carrot sticks. Eat them on your feet with a beer in the other hand and no worries about the red mess all over your face and hands.

A heavy little cast-iron hibachi is R. B.’s favorite outdoor grill for fast and efficient high-heat cooking. Indoors, that efficiency is called the broiler. Both tools use direct high heat to sear tender cuts of meat hot and fast. It’s just that the broiler heats from above, the grill from below. Even better, the broiler gets burning hot in minutes with the turn of a knob. Quick Sticks are a very loose version of Thai satay—thin cuts of chicken and steak rubbed with curry, threaded onto skewers, and quickly broiled. The dipping sauce is first-class cheating—barbecue sauce with some chopped peanuts thrown in. Icy Q-Cumbers (page 153) are a Quick Sticks must.

The game birds called grive that are the Sards’ quarry in the macchia are too small to cook over the open fire, hence they are often poached in white wine, then laid to cool on a palette of myrtle leaves and twigs, with a coverlet of yet more of the leaves, all of them scenting the flesh with soft perfumes, a reprise of the machinations of the old bracconiere (page 226). Yet another cunning Sard prescription is to tuck the birds inside a paper or cloth sack fitted with the herbs. By fastening the sack securely, one creates a vaporous chamber in which they rest and cool, breathing in the sweet steam. Lacking myrtle bushes, use whole branches of rosemary and thyme, fat leaves of sage, and the fronds of wild or cultivated fennel as lush surrogate bedding for the little birds. A few cloves of barely crushed garlic seem to invigorate the herbs. Luscious to carry on a picnic, one might prepare the quail—or game hens, a chicken, or a fat capon, adjusting the poaching times accordingly—the evening before, and next day carry along the sack of birds readied for lunch.

A dish a hunter might prepare for his family even if his sack holds only a few birds, the quail are pan-roasted, pasta is added to its good liquors, the whole roasted in the oven, and carried to table as a piatto unico—one-dish meal.