Okay, I'm not going to re-type this recipe--I'm just going to give you the link to its blog of origin. Again. I linked to this recipe in my weekly menu plan this week, and we ate it tonight. Sweet fancy Moses, it was good. I mean, really, really good. The only change I made to Canarygirl's recipe was to sub a 16-oz. jar of medium-heat salsa verde for the tomatillo sauce--though, for all I know, they may very well be the same thing. And in the burritos, we used black beans instead of refried. And instead of a whole chicken, I just used a bunch of thighs and legs--dark meat is cheaper and more moist, and turns out so much better after long periods of cooking, as in this recipe. And, oh. Cilantro. We love cilantro, so I put lots of fresh cilantro on mine, and hummina hummina hummina.
So, just to reiterate, WOW. This was good. I will make it again. And again, and again, and again...
Chicken Verde. Seriously.
Showing posts with label Chicken. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chicken. Show all posts
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Lemon Sage Butter Roasted Chicken
*Note: I've tweaked this recipe a bit, so look for italicized changes below!*
Kudos to Katie for her recipe request!
Now, for the full disclaimer: I have never written down any sort of recipe for this, so what I'm about to present is merely my best guess. Here's how it came about: One day, I had thawed a whole chicken to roast for dinner. I had seen chefs on the Food Network putting things under the skin to flavor the meat, and I thought that was a smash-up idea. The only problem was that, at the time I had this thawed chicken on hand, I seemed to have none of the actual things these chefs used. But I know that lemon, sage, and butter all work well with poultry, so I figured I'd give it a go and make up my own under-the-skin thing. Luckily, it worked like a charm.
This week, when I made this chicken, I used a whole chicken breast, and also brined it. The chicken comes from my mother-in-law, who, during the warm months, has been known to occasionally raise chickens for eating. (I'm not sure why, but something about that sentence makes my mother-in-law seem like some sort of barbarian.) Well, her chickens end up HUGE--so huge that a whole chicken breast is actually good for two meals for our family. I have never seen whole chicken breasts like this in the grocery store, but if you ever happen upon them, give 'em a try!
And last, before we get to the recipe: don't be put off by the length of the instructions. It's actually quite easy, it just so happens I'm feeling very chatty today and I couldn't stop myself from typing a lot of needless words.
Lemon Butter Sage Roasted Chicken
1 3-4 lb. chicken
1/2 c butter, softened
1-2 tsp. lemon juice (I didn't measure)
1 tsp. rubbed sage (or more, if you love sage so much you want to marry it)
3-4 cloves garlic, pressed
olive oil
kosher or ground sea salt
ground pepper
Brine:
2 quarts hot water
1/2 c. salt
1/3 c. brown sugar
1 tsp. dried lemon peel
Rinse chicken. In a very large bowl, combine ingredients for brine, and stir until salt and sugar are dissolved. When the water has cooled a bit (room temperature-ish), submerge the chicken, breast side down. Cover bowl, and chuck it (gingerly) into the fridge, where it can rest for a very long time. Shoot for several hours. Two, maybe? Three? It's not an exact science. *Note: I don't always brine, and this chicken still turns out pretty yummy, so don't fret if you opt to skip this step.
In the meantime, and pretty much right before you want to roast the chicken, mix together the softened butter, lemon juice, sage and garlic. You will want this mixture to be pretty pliable (but not runny) when you use it, so keep it at room temperature.
Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Yes, that's right. Rinse chicken and pat dry. Using your fingers, loosen the skin from the breast, taking care not to tear it. The reason for this is two-fold: 1) it will give you a place to slide your delicious butter mixture, and 2) it will make for crispier, golden brown skin. (At our house, we like to eat the yummy crispy skin, but don't tell our cardiologist. Okay, we don't have a cardiologist, but if we did, this is the kind of thing we'd keep secret.)
Using a spoon, take portions of the butter and slide them under the skin. Just shove the spoon under there, and use your fingers on the outside of the skin to scoot the butter to where you want it to be. When you're satisfied with your butter distribution, pat the skin dry again, rub a little olive oil on the skin, and season with a bit of salt. Also, generously salt and pepper the cavity of the bird.
Place chicken in whatever vessel you're cooking it in (uncovered, of course), breast side up.* Let it roast at 425 until done. When is it done? Good question. I use a thermometer with an alarm--I put it into the thickest part of the thigh, set the temp at 165, and walk away until it beeps at me. If you only have an instant-read thermometer, test it at about 50 minutes, and adjust cooking time accordingly. If you have neither, you're on your own. I'd say that an hour and a quarter to an hour and a half will be about right, but don't hold me to that.
When you remove it from the oven, let it rest without cutting it for about 15 minutes. Then, dig in and enjoy! Spoon the pan juices over the chicken for extra scrumptious flavor.
*Another note: if you're using a whole chicken, you may want to consider putting your chicken on some sort of rack to keep it elevated from the bottom of the pan so the bottom isn't soggy and flaccid. Sometimes, I butterfly the chicken by cutting out the backbone with a pair of kitchen shears and smooshing the chicken flat. Then I line the bottom of the roasting pan with large chunks of celery and onion and place the butterflied chicken on top of that--this also serves as an "aromatic," flavoring the meat as well. PLUS, butterflying the chicken cuts the total roasting time. Or, skip the butterflying step, and use celery ribs for a simple "rack" under the whole chicken. (I just did this a few days ago with some limp-looking celery. I curled the celery ribs up in the bottom of a cast-iron skillet and put the chicken on top. Worked great!)
Kudos to Katie for her recipe request!
Now, for the full disclaimer: I have never written down any sort of recipe for this, so what I'm about to present is merely my best guess. Here's how it came about: One day, I had thawed a whole chicken to roast for dinner. I had seen chefs on the Food Network putting things under the skin to flavor the meat, and I thought that was a smash-up idea. The only problem was that, at the time I had this thawed chicken on hand, I seemed to have none of the actual things these chefs used. But I know that lemon, sage, and butter all work well with poultry, so I figured I'd give it a go and make up my own under-the-skin thing. Luckily, it worked like a charm.
This week, when I made this chicken, I used a whole chicken breast, and also brined it. The chicken comes from my mother-in-law, who, during the warm months, has been known to occasionally raise chickens for eating. (I'm not sure why, but something about that sentence makes my mother-in-law seem like some sort of barbarian.) Well, her chickens end up HUGE--so huge that a whole chicken breast is actually good for two meals for our family. I have never seen whole chicken breasts like this in the grocery store, but if you ever happen upon them, give 'em a try!
And last, before we get to the recipe: don't be put off by the length of the instructions. It's actually quite easy, it just so happens I'm feeling very chatty today and I couldn't stop myself from typing a lot of needless words.
Lemon Butter Sage Roasted Chicken
1 3-4 lb. chicken
1/2 c butter, softened
1-2 tsp. lemon juice (I didn't measure)
1 tsp. rubbed sage (or more, if you love sage so much you want to marry it)
3-4 cloves garlic, pressed
olive oil
kosher or ground sea salt
ground pepper
Brine:
2 quarts hot water
1/2 c. salt
1/3 c. brown sugar
1 tsp. dried lemon peel
Rinse chicken. In a very large bowl, combine ingredients for brine, and stir until salt and sugar are dissolved. When the water has cooled a bit (room temperature-ish), submerge the chicken, breast side down. Cover bowl, and chuck it (gingerly) into the fridge, where it can rest for a very long time. Shoot for several hours. Two, maybe? Three? It's not an exact science. *Note: I don't always brine, and this chicken still turns out pretty yummy, so don't fret if you opt to skip this step.
In the meantime, and pretty much right before you want to roast the chicken, mix together the softened butter, lemon juice, sage and garlic. You will want this mixture to be pretty pliable (but not runny) when you use it, so keep it at room temperature.
Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Yes, that's right. Rinse chicken and pat dry. Using your fingers, loosen the skin from the breast, taking care not to tear it. The reason for this is two-fold: 1) it will give you a place to slide your delicious butter mixture, and 2) it will make for crispier, golden brown skin. (At our house, we like to eat the yummy crispy skin, but don't tell our cardiologist. Okay, we don't have a cardiologist, but if we did, this is the kind of thing we'd keep secret.)
Using a spoon, take portions of the butter and slide them under the skin. Just shove the spoon under there, and use your fingers on the outside of the skin to scoot the butter to where you want it to be. When you're satisfied with your butter distribution, pat the skin dry again, rub a little olive oil on the skin, and season with a bit of salt. Also, generously salt and pepper the cavity of the bird.
Place chicken in whatever vessel you're cooking it in (uncovered, of course), breast side up.* Let it roast at 425 until done. When is it done? Good question. I use a thermometer with an alarm--I put it into the thickest part of the thigh, set the temp at 165, and walk away until it beeps at me. If you only have an instant-read thermometer, test it at about 50 minutes, and adjust cooking time accordingly. If you have neither, you're on your own. I'd say that an hour and a quarter to an hour and a half will be about right, but don't hold me to that.
When you remove it from the oven, let it rest without cutting it for about 15 minutes. Then, dig in and enjoy! Spoon the pan juices over the chicken for extra scrumptious flavor.
*Another note: if you're using a whole chicken, you may want to consider putting your chicken on some sort of rack to keep it elevated from the bottom of the pan so the bottom isn't soggy and flaccid. Sometimes, I butterfly the chicken by cutting out the backbone with a pair of kitchen shears and smooshing the chicken flat. Then I line the bottom of the roasting pan with large chunks of celery and onion and place the butterflied chicken on top of that--this also serves as an "aromatic," flavoring the meat as well. PLUS, butterflying the chicken cuts the total roasting time. Or, skip the butterflying step, and use celery ribs for a simple "rack" under the whole chicken. (I just did this a few days ago with some limp-looking celery. I curled the celery ribs up in the bottom of a cast-iron skillet and put the chicken on top. Worked great!)
Friday, January 18, 2008
White Chicken Chili
Back before my husband and I tied the knot and he whisked me away to the land of promise, I worked for a small, non-profit organization. I was there for three years, and I loved it; hundreds of miles away from my family, they became my local family.
One of the days I most looked forward to was soup and salad potluck day. One of the dear ladies I worked with, Betty, always brought in her signature soup, a White Chicken Chili. It was, among so many delicious options, my personal favorite, a fact that I shared with her on more than one occasion. I remember having the feeling that its recipe was a closely guarded secret, and I always imagined Betty in the kitchen tinkering with this and that until it had arrived at perfection. Looking back, I'm pretty sure I alone manufactured that story; I can't remember a single shred of evidence to support it. (At least, I hope that's true--otherwise, I could be in big trouble for sharing this recipe with you.) But it seemed a much more romantic and intriguing notion than reality: Betty, under shroud of night, clutching her cumin and cayenne, casting furtive glances about to check if anyone was hiding in the shadows, watching her develop her secret soup formula. She probably got the recipe from a book somewhere, but that isn't very exciting, is it?
When it came time for me to wed (doesn't that sound old timey?), the ladies I worked with threw me a bridal shower. Most gifts came from my registry, but there were, of course, several exceptions: some hand-knit dishcloths, a decorative wooden rooster (thanks, Sandy), a soup tureen with bas relief grapes and squash and things on it. The soup tureen was from Betty. I hadn't registered for it, and to be truly honest, it wasn't really my style (sorry, Betty, if you're reading this). But tucked inside that tureen was the best present I received all day: Betty's White Chicken Chili recipe.
I have since seen many versions of this recipe, and I'm sure they're all quite similar, but I've been making this one for years because it was a gift to me, and I love it. I'm passing it along to you in the hope that you will love it, too.
White Chicken Chili
1 48 oz. jar Great Northern Beans
4 cups chicken broth
1 medium onion, chopped
1 Tbsp. olive oil
2 (4 oz.) cans chopped green chilies
1 tsp. ground cumin
1 1/2 tsp. ground oregano
1/4 tsp. cayenne pepper
4 cups cooked chicken, diced
In a large dutch oven or soup pot, saute onion in oil until tender and translucent. Add chilies and spices and mix thoroughly. Add beans, broth, and chicken, and stir well. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer 1 hour.
Serves 10
Betty even noted for our information: 415 calories, 16 grams of fat per serving.
Being health conscious, Betty probably doesn't do what I do after the soup is done: ladle it into soup bowls, and top it with shredded cheddar and a dollop of sour cream. But it's really, really good that way, even if you have to throw those 415 calories and 16 grams of fat out the window.
One of the days I most looked forward to was soup and salad potluck day. One of the dear ladies I worked with, Betty, always brought in her signature soup, a White Chicken Chili. It was, among so many delicious options, my personal favorite, a fact that I shared with her on more than one occasion. I remember having the feeling that its recipe was a closely guarded secret, and I always imagined Betty in the kitchen tinkering with this and that until it had arrived at perfection. Looking back, I'm pretty sure I alone manufactured that story; I can't remember a single shred of evidence to support it. (At least, I hope that's true--otherwise, I could be in big trouble for sharing this recipe with you.) But it seemed a much more romantic and intriguing notion than reality: Betty, under shroud of night, clutching her cumin and cayenne, casting furtive glances about to check if anyone was hiding in the shadows, watching her develop her secret soup formula. She probably got the recipe from a book somewhere, but that isn't very exciting, is it?
When it came time for me to wed (doesn't that sound old timey?), the ladies I worked with threw me a bridal shower. Most gifts came from my registry, but there were, of course, several exceptions: some hand-knit dishcloths, a decorative wooden rooster (thanks, Sandy), a soup tureen with bas relief grapes and squash and things on it. The soup tureen was from Betty. I hadn't registered for it, and to be truly honest, it wasn't really my style (sorry, Betty, if you're reading this). But tucked inside that tureen was the best present I received all day: Betty's White Chicken Chili recipe.
I have since seen many versions of this recipe, and I'm sure they're all quite similar, but I've been making this one for years because it was a gift to me, and I love it. I'm passing it along to you in the hope that you will love it, too.
White Chicken Chili
1 48 oz. jar Great Northern Beans
4 cups chicken broth
1 medium onion, chopped
1 Tbsp. olive oil
2 (4 oz.) cans chopped green chilies
1 tsp. ground cumin
1 1/2 tsp. ground oregano
1/4 tsp. cayenne pepper
4 cups cooked chicken, diced
In a large dutch oven or soup pot, saute onion in oil until tender and translucent. Add chilies and spices and mix thoroughly. Add beans, broth, and chicken, and stir well. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer 1 hour.
Serves 10
Betty even noted for our information: 415 calories, 16 grams of fat per serving.
Being health conscious, Betty probably doesn't do what I do after the soup is done: ladle it into soup bowls, and top it with shredded cheddar and a dollop of sour cream. But it's really, really good that way, even if you have to throw those 415 calories and 16 grams of fat out the window.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Hot Chicken Salad
This is another dish from the "I was just being polite" category. I'm starting to notice a trend here--some of my all-time favorites started out as Things I Will Not Eat. Usually, the only reason I eat them is to be polite, but then, magically, their flavors embrace me and I end up craving them fortnightly. (Except for the unfortunate apple/pineapple/hot dog/curry dish I sampled in the Faroe Islands. I will always have unpleasant memories of that one.)
So this one started with my friend Cathie. She brought the recipe to me and told me it was wonderful. We have a lot of things in common, Cathie and I, so I thought maybe I'd like it, too, if it was her favorite. Except it was a hot casserole with mayonnaise and hard boiled eggs. Ewww. Still, it turned out she was right--it was amazing. (Except for the eggs, which I eventually omitted. But that's just me.) It has it all: warm, crunchy, creamy, hearty, easy . . . so it's a no-brainer as a winner.
I believe I can down a pan of this in one sitting--not that I've ever tried. But I'm sure I could if I had no regard for my waistline, or the fact that the rest of my family needs to eat, too. This recipe is one of the most oft-requested ones in my file, and it's usually requested by people who thought it was weird to begin with but then, like me, were converted by its somewhat addictive flavor. So beware...life will never be the same once you've tried
Hot Chicken Salad
2-3 c. chopped cooked chicken
2 c. cooked rice
1 (8 oz.) can sliced water chestnuts, roughly chopped
1 c. diced celery
1 can cream of chicken soup
3/4 c. mayonnaise
1 tsp. lemon juice
1/2 tsp. rubbed sage or poultry seasoning
salt and pepper to taste
3/4 c. cornflake crumbs
3 Tbsp. melted butter
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
In a large bowl, combine the chicken, rice, water chestnuts, and celery.
In a small bowl, combine the soup, mayo, lemon juice, sage, and pepper. Mix well. Add to chicken and rice mixture, combining thoroughly.
Lightly grease a 2-quart casserole dish or a 9x13 pan, and spread mixture evenly in pan.
Combine cornflake crumbs with butter and sprinkle evenly over casserole.
Bake for 30-40 minutes.
Yield: 6 servings
So this one started with my friend Cathie. She brought the recipe to me and told me it was wonderful. We have a lot of things in common, Cathie and I, so I thought maybe I'd like it, too, if it was her favorite. Except it was a hot casserole with mayonnaise and hard boiled eggs. Ewww. Still, it turned out she was right--it was amazing. (Except for the eggs, which I eventually omitted. But that's just me.) It has it all: warm, crunchy, creamy, hearty, easy . . . so it's a no-brainer as a winner.
I believe I can down a pan of this in one sitting--not that I've ever tried. But I'm sure I could if I had no regard for my waistline, or the fact that the rest of my family needs to eat, too. This recipe is one of the most oft-requested ones in my file, and it's usually requested by people who thought it was weird to begin with but then, like me, were converted by its somewhat addictive flavor. So beware...life will never be the same once you've tried
Hot Chicken Salad
2-3 c. chopped cooked chicken
2 c. cooked rice
1 (8 oz.) can sliced water chestnuts, roughly chopped
1 c. diced celery
1 can cream of chicken soup
3/4 c. mayonnaise
1 tsp. lemon juice
1/2 tsp. rubbed sage or poultry seasoning
salt and pepper to taste
3/4 c. cornflake crumbs
3 Tbsp. melted butter
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
In a large bowl, combine the chicken, rice, water chestnuts, and celery.
In a small bowl, combine the soup, mayo, lemon juice, sage, and pepper. Mix well. Add to chicken and rice mixture, combining thoroughly.
Lightly grease a 2-quart casserole dish or a 9x13 pan, and spread mixture evenly in pan.
Combine cornflake crumbs with butter and sprinkle evenly over casserole.
Bake for 30-40 minutes.
Yield: 6 servings
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Chicken Salad with Grapes
When I was a Junior in High School, I was hanging with a bunch of youth group friends at the Nagel's house--Gregg was a Junior, too, and Amanda was, I think, a freshman. Brad was still an annoying little punk. Now everybody is all grown up and married with families and careers and stuff--how time flies. It should take longer to get old.
Anyway, Gregg's mom, Shirley, is a very good cook. She had already introduced me to the wonderful world of Quesadillas, but on this particular day, she opened a much more significant door for me--the door to Chicken Salad.
It looked funny; it had chicken and celery, but also...grapes? And mayonnaise? Gross! Naturally, never having tasted any sort of chicken salad, I was skeptical, and curious why anyone would combine these ingredients, much less enjoy them. But I took some to be polite ('cause that's how my mama raised me), and I'm glad I did--it was a taste sensation. I'm pretty sure I went back for seconds and thirds, probably rearranging the remaining salad so it didn't look as if I had just eaten half of it. Which I had.
I didn't ask for the recipe, but over the years, I've developed two Chicken Salad recipes of my own. This particular recipe, while it's not Shirley's, at least channels her chicken-salad-making spirit. It's a very summery combination of chicken, celery, onions, seedless red grapes, and a tangy dressing. I hope you enjoy it as I did so many (many, many) years ago.
Chicken Salad with Grapes
3 c. diced cooked chicken
1/2 c. diced celery
1/4 c. minced onion
1 c. red seedless grapes, halved
1/3 c. mayonnaise
1-1 1/2 tsp. lemon juice
1 tsp. Paula Deen's House seasoning (recipe follows)
1 Tbsp. dried parsley
Combine the chicken, celery, onion, and grapes.
In a separate bowl, combine remaining ingredients, mixing well.
Thoroughly combine dressing with chicken mixture, and chill at least 1 hour before serving. Serve on bread or rolls as a sandwich or over greens for a lovely salad. Serves 4.
Paula Deen's House Seasoning
1 c. salt
1/4 c. ground black pepper
1/4 c. garlic powder
Mix well, and store in an airtight container. Useful for seasoning just about anything!
Anyway, Gregg's mom, Shirley, is a very good cook. She had already introduced me to the wonderful world of Quesadillas, but on this particular day, she opened a much more significant door for me--the door to Chicken Salad.
It looked funny; it had chicken and celery, but also...grapes? And mayonnaise? Gross! Naturally, never having tasted any sort of chicken salad, I was skeptical, and curious why anyone would combine these ingredients, much less enjoy them. But I took some to be polite ('cause that's how my mama raised me), and I'm glad I did--it was a taste sensation. I'm pretty sure I went back for seconds and thirds, probably rearranging the remaining salad so it didn't look as if I had just eaten half of it. Which I had.
I didn't ask for the recipe, but over the years, I've developed two Chicken Salad recipes of my own. This particular recipe, while it's not Shirley's, at least channels her chicken-salad-making spirit. It's a very summery combination of chicken, celery, onions, seedless red grapes, and a tangy dressing. I hope you enjoy it as I did so many (many, many) years ago.
Chicken Salad with Grapes
3 c. diced cooked chicken
1/2 c. diced celery
1/4 c. minced onion
1 c. red seedless grapes, halved
1/3 c. mayonnaise
1-1 1/2 tsp. lemon juice
1 tsp. Paula Deen's House seasoning (recipe follows)
1 Tbsp. dried parsley
Combine the chicken, celery, onion, and grapes.
In a separate bowl, combine remaining ingredients, mixing well.
Thoroughly combine dressing with chicken mixture, and chill at least 1 hour before serving. Serve on bread or rolls as a sandwich or over greens for a lovely salad. Serves 4.
Paula Deen's House Seasoning
1 c. salt
1/4 c. ground black pepper
1/4 c. garlic powder
Mix well, and store in an airtight container. Useful for seasoning just about anything!
Monday, July 23, 2007
"Kind Of" Aglio e Olio (Pasta with Garlic and Oil)
Well, this recipe was kind of a disappointment in my life. I love to cook, but I am not the best at just making up new dishes; everything I make is at least inspired by someone else's recipe, then tailored to fit our family's tastes. I am not like Rachel Ray, who draws brilliant recipes from thin air--"I love pizza and I love chicken parmesan, so I combined them to make my Pizz-O Parmesan! Yum-O!!!" (I jest, but I may really try that sometime...)
So when I created this dish, I thought I really had something. Visions of The Next Food Network Star danced through my head. I pictured myself with a TV show, showing home cooks everywhere how to take a pinch of this and that and turn it into a feast. I don't remember exactly how my balloon of hopes was deflated, but I was searching for another recipe online--which recipe escapes me--snooped around a bit more, and discovered that I had unwittingly concocted a dish that already existed. Sure, it tasted wonderful, but it wasn't mine. And it was such an established dish that it had its own name, and it was Italian, for pete's sake.
I had already posted it on my Monday Menu Plan as "Chicken Pasta Toss with garlic, olive oil, parmesan, and fresh basil" (a cumbersome name, indeed), but that was before I knew it already had a title, Aglio e Olio (Garlic and Oil). Despite my disappointment, I made the dish, adding a few elements that don't appear in the original recipe--basil and chicken and parmesan cheese--and omitting one ingredient--red pepper flakes--that I didn't think the kiddies would go for. In the end, I suppose that it is different enough to perhaps merit its own name, but it is, at its essence, Aglio e Olio. With chicken.
It's so easy, it's ridiculous, and Abe thought it was the best thing ever. I wrote a lot of instructions for you, but at the core, it's amazingly simple, so don't be scared off by the fact that there are lots and lots of words following the list of ingredients. And hey, I put the really side-note kind of stuff in parentheses, so you can skip those altogether, if you'd like.
Take that, Rachel Ray. And Giada--I'm coming for you next.
"Kind Of" Aglio e Olio
1 lb. spaghetti, uncooked
1/4 c. olive oil plus 1 Tbsp.
4 cloves of garlic, finely minced (increase if you LOVE garlic)
1/2 c. grated parmesan cheese
1/4 c. basil, cut finely
3 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, pounded to uniform thickness
salt
pepper
First, bring a giant pot of water to a boil--this will happen much faster if you cover the pot with a lid. When the water has come to a boil, add a generous handful of salt to the water, then add the pasta. Cook to your preference--I like it really al dente, but do whatever floats your boat.
While the pasta water is heating, heat 1 Tbsp. of the oil in a skillet over medium high heat. Allow this to warm up for about 30 seconds, then add the chicken to the skillet. When the white creeps up the side of the chicken breasts, it's time to flip--this should take just a few minutes. After flipping, let the chicken cook for another 2 or 3 minutes or so, then remove chicken to a plate or cutting board to allow it to rest. (Salt and pepper it at this point; salt has a tendency to draw moisture out of the meat, releasing this moisture into the pan and causing the chicken to steam instead of fry--thus preventing the chicken from getting a nice color to it. Also, pepper can scorch, too, so, you know, just hold off, and your chicken will be beautifully golden and juicy, and the residual heat will allow the chicken to absorb the flavors of the salt and pepper.)
In the same skillet, add the remaining olive oil and the garlic. Bump the heat down to medium or medium low (scorched garlic is ruined garlic, and turns bitter and awful. All you want to do is take some of the rawness out of the garlic and infuse the oil with its flavor.) Stirring frequently, wait for the garlic to get just a little bit golden. This will only take a few minutes.
Add the basil, and stir the whole shebang over that medium heat for just a minute or so, then turn off the heat.
Drain the pasta. Do not rinse. Dump the pasta into a large bowl and dump the olive oil mixture over top. Using tongs, turn to coat. Then sprinkle on the parmesan, and turn to coat again, until all of the pasta is covered with the cheese and the basil is evenly distributed.
As for that chicken: that's up to you. I sliced it up and added it right into the pasta mix, but you could also just slice it on top or serve it alongside. If you anticipate serving it alongside, you may want to marinate it in a little Italian dressing beforehand to boost the flavor a bit, since it won't be necessarily mingling with the essences of basil and garlic.
Enjoy!
So when I created this dish, I thought I really had something. Visions of The Next Food Network Star danced through my head. I pictured myself with a TV show, showing home cooks everywhere how to take a pinch of this and that and turn it into a feast. I don't remember exactly how my balloon of hopes was deflated, but I was searching for another recipe online--which recipe escapes me--snooped around a bit more, and discovered that I had unwittingly concocted a dish that already existed. Sure, it tasted wonderful, but it wasn't mine. And it was such an established dish that it had its own name, and it was Italian, for pete's sake.
I had already posted it on my Monday Menu Plan as "Chicken Pasta Toss with garlic, olive oil, parmesan, and fresh basil" (a cumbersome name, indeed), but that was before I knew it already had a title, Aglio e Olio (Garlic and Oil). Despite my disappointment, I made the dish, adding a few elements that don't appear in the original recipe--basil and chicken and parmesan cheese--and omitting one ingredient--red pepper flakes--that I didn't think the kiddies would go for. In the end, I suppose that it is different enough to perhaps merit its own name, but it is, at its essence, Aglio e Olio. With chicken.
It's so easy, it's ridiculous, and Abe thought it was the best thing ever. I wrote a lot of instructions for you, but at the core, it's amazingly simple, so don't be scared off by the fact that there are lots and lots of words following the list of ingredients. And hey, I put the really side-note kind of stuff in parentheses, so you can skip those altogether, if you'd like.
Take that, Rachel Ray. And Giada--I'm coming for you next.
"Kind Of" Aglio e Olio
1 lb. spaghetti, uncooked
1/4 c. olive oil plus 1 Tbsp.
4 cloves of garlic, finely minced (increase if you LOVE garlic)
1/2 c. grated parmesan cheese
1/4 c. basil, cut finely
3 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, pounded to uniform thickness
salt
pepper
First, bring a giant pot of water to a boil--this will happen much faster if you cover the pot with a lid. When the water has come to a boil, add a generous handful of salt to the water, then add the pasta. Cook to your preference--I like it really al dente, but do whatever floats your boat.
While the pasta water is heating, heat 1 Tbsp. of the oil in a skillet over medium high heat. Allow this to warm up for about 30 seconds, then add the chicken to the skillet. When the white creeps up the side of the chicken breasts, it's time to flip--this should take just a few minutes. After flipping, let the chicken cook for another 2 or 3 minutes or so, then remove chicken to a plate or cutting board to allow it to rest. (Salt and pepper it at this point; salt has a tendency to draw moisture out of the meat, releasing this moisture into the pan and causing the chicken to steam instead of fry--thus preventing the chicken from getting a nice color to it. Also, pepper can scorch, too, so, you know, just hold off, and your chicken will be beautifully golden and juicy, and the residual heat will allow the chicken to absorb the flavors of the salt and pepper.)
In the same skillet, add the remaining olive oil and the garlic. Bump the heat down to medium or medium low (scorched garlic is ruined garlic, and turns bitter and awful. All you want to do is take some of the rawness out of the garlic and infuse the oil with its flavor.) Stirring frequently, wait for the garlic to get just a little bit golden. This will only take a few minutes.
Add the basil, and stir the whole shebang over that medium heat for just a minute or so, then turn off the heat.
Drain the pasta. Do not rinse. Dump the pasta into a large bowl and dump the olive oil mixture over top. Using tongs, turn to coat. Then sprinkle on the parmesan, and turn to coat again, until all of the pasta is covered with the cheese and the basil is evenly distributed.
As for that chicken: that's up to you. I sliced it up and added it right into the pasta mix, but you could also just slice it on top or serve it alongside. If you anticipate serving it alongside, you may want to marinate it in a little Italian dressing beforehand to boost the flavor a bit, since it won't be necessarily mingling with the essences of basil and garlic.
Enjoy!
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