Greek Chicken + An Anniversary

It was Monday. It was the one year anniversary of the day Sean and I met. It was also the day of conference calls, deadlines, and furniture delivery. There was no time to make something special -- so I had to make something out of nothing.

Enter greek chicken. It's a good everyday recipe. There's only a few things to cut. Prep it all early in the day, or even the day before. It has a warm, lemon and tomato infused scent that floats through the air. On the night I made it, the sent was so alive, it made it down the stairs, and into the garage where we furiously tore through cardboard and styrofoam, chipping away till we'd uncovered a new-to-us couch, four antique chairs, all my grandmother's china, and the writing desk she left to me in her will.

We summoned our strength and got everything up the stairs. By 7:30 we were drinking Champagne, eating saucy greek chicken, and lustily sliding chunks of baguette through red pools of sauce.

Stevie Wonder was on the stereo. Life was good.

 

Greek Chicken

1 lb. boneless skinless chicken breast

10 small red potatoes, sliced into wedges

1 purple onion, cut into eighths 

8 oz Kalamata olives, pitted and drained

4 sprigs fresh oregano, chopped

4 cloves garlic, minced
1, 14.5 ounce can of diced tomatoes -- I bought the Muir Organic fire roasted brand, which worked great
3 lemons

1 (6 oz.) container feta cheese

 

Crusty bread (necessary for dipping)

Cut chicken breasts into quarters and spread chicken on bottom of 9x13 pan.

Spread potatoes, onions, and olives over the chicken.

Sprinkle garlic and oregano over chicken mixture, and top with the diced tomatoes

Slice lemons into quarters. Squeeze juice all over the chicken mixture then drop used rind on top.

Cover with tin foil and bake at 350 degrees for an hour (or until chicken and potatoes are cooked).

Top with feta cheese and serve warm.

This meal can be assembled the day before -- let it hang out in the fridge and pop it in the oven at dinner time.

Southern Butterscotch Pie

After M.F.K. Fisher became a mother, she occasionally had to turn down writing gigs because juggling two girls and writing was too much. Other times she made it work, writing outside the lines in typically grand Fisher fashion.

For instance -- she was once asked to write a piece about dining in San Francisco, but she hadn't been to San Francisco recently, and a trip wasn't in the cards. Instead she wrote a piece about all the places she would eat in San Francisco if she were there: dumplings in Chinatown, crab on the wharf, an Italian restaurant tucked away in North Beach.

Smart woman, M.F.K. Fisher. And I happily steal from her playbook.

Things have been kind of crazy here and it feels like we've been eating out a lot. In just the past week I've had meals at Bar Tartine, Bar Agricole, and Local (brunch and dinner). And then there was last night.... We had dinner at a neighborhood restaurant that shall remain nameless, but wins the award for the worst meal I have ever had in San Francisco. Ever.

I feel it in my bones, it's time for some home cooking: a relaxed weekend culminating in a lazy Sunday supper, eaten a little on the early side, so as to have time for a stroll around the neighborhood and a big old slice of pie.

Here is the recipe I would make. I found it on The Kitchn, but the recipe is originally from a book by Nancy McDermott called Southern Pies. I made this pie in December and it won second place in Sean's work party/holiday bake-off. It is the quintessential southern dessert: sweet, and a little boozy from the addition of whiskey to the whipped cream (my tweak).

The mere thought of it makes me feel like unpacking my grandmother's fancy china, finding a white lacy tablecloth, and summoning everyone to the table.

Join me?

Southern Butterscotch Pie
For the pie crust: I used a Joy of Cooking recipe for an oil based pie crust. It was quick, simple, and is perfect for custard based pies or pies that don't spend too long in the oven (cooking the oil for too long can impart an "off" taste).
Preheat oven to 425 degrees
Combine:
1 and 1/3 cups flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
Mix in a cup until creamy:
1/3 cup plus 1 Tablespoon vegetable oil
1/4 cup cold milk
Pour the oil mixture over the dry ingredients and stir with a fork until blended. Combine dough into a ball. Roll the dough between two pieces of waxed paper then flip the dough into a 9 inch pie pan, using fingers to crimp the edges. Prick the sides and bottom with a fork. Bake until the crust is golden brown, about 12 to 18 minutes. Remove from the oven and let cool.

 For the filling
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons dark brown sugar, packed (make sure it is dark brown, it will give the filling that deep brown color you want)
1/4 cup cornstarch
3 tablespoons flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 (12 ounce) can evaporated milk
1/2 cup milk (I used 2%)
4 egg yolks, lightly beaten
1 tablespoon bourbon whiskey

For the whipped cream
1 cup heavy whipping cream
3 tablespoons confectioners’ sugar
1 tablespoon whiskey (or to taste)

To make the filling
In a medium saucepan, melt butter over medium heat. Cook until lightly browned, stirring occasionally, approximately 10 minutes. Add brown sugar to butter and cook until sugar is melted and a paste is formed.
Combine evaporated milk and regular milk and pour into the butter/brown sugar mixture. Bring to a simmer and stir until it is smooth and the sugar is completely dissolved.
In a separate bowl, combine cornstarch, flour, and salt. Pour 1/ 2 cup of the milk/butter/sugar mixture into the cornstarch mixture and whisk until smooth. Pour the smooth cornstarch mixture back into saucepan, stirring constantly. Cook for approximately one minute, until just thickened (cooking the cornstarch much longer can actually cause it to lose its thickening ability).
Stream 1/2 cup hot milk/butter/sugar mixture into the egg yolks, stirring constantly. Pour this mix back into the saucepan. Cook for approximately 30 seconds to one minute, and then remove from heat. Stir in whiskey. Allow to cool until warm, about 10 to 15 minutes. Strain filling through a fine mesh sieve and then pour into cooked pie crust.
Press a piece of plastic wrap directly on the surface of the pudding in order to prevent a skin from forming. Chill overnight, or until firm.

To make the whipped cream
In a medium-sized bowl, whip the heavy cream with an electric mixer until foamy and starting to thicken. Add confectioners’ sugar and bourbon whiskey and continue to beat until soft peaks are just formed.
Top with whip cream, slice and enjoy.

Coconut Cilantro Rice

Coconut cilantro rice + soy and brown sugar glazed salmon

Ok, I lied. I have all sorts of resolutions. But, as I mentioned the other day, they have less to do with the new year, and more to do with getting (and staying) on top of this wildly out of control creative machine that is my life right now.

Here are a few things on my list:

Take more photos & better ones. Don't believe that moment when it seems like my phone will take a better photo than my camera. It won't. [See above.... and below for examples of this faulty thinking.]

* Write more: blog posts, freelance pitches, essays. Get started on ideas for another book proposal. 

* Walk/ ride more: Writing keeps this rear firmly attached to a chair most days. Instead of driving to the grocery store, I'm going to walk -- even if it adds time. 

* Make more interesting meals: Less roasted chicken with a green salad, and more.... Well, I am not quite sure what I'll make more of, but whatever it is, it will feed an army.

We're ten days into 2011 and I've failed miserably at this list. 

Except --- I did walk to the Bart and take public transportation to the library. On the way back, I stopped at a hole-in-the-wall market for a dusty can of coconut milk. And then I made this: coconut cilantro rice, a recipe deemed so good that we took a one day breather and then made it again later in the week.

Sticky, savory coconut cilantro rice

It's quick, it's easy, it is really really tasty. It makes you feel healthy and on top of things, like your resolutions and to-do list can be accomplished in one fail swoop. In other words, it's just the kind of recipe you want in your arsenal for the new year.

Coconut Cilantro Rice, adapted a bit from the Williams-Sonoma Food Made Fast Series. This recipe is from the "Weeknight" Cookbook.

1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 cup long grain white rice
1 can unsweetened coconut milk Note: I have made this recipe several times and am here to tell you that while using light coconut milk is good, using the full fat coconut milk is sublime. I highly recommend it. It is richer, and you will be satisfied with less.
1/2 cup minced fresh cilantro (or less if you prefer)

In a saucepan over medium heat, melt the butter. Add the rice and cook, stirring constantly until the rice is well coated with butter -- about one minute. Stir in can of coconut milk, and a cup of water (you want 2.5 cups of liquid, total. The coconut milk in a can I buy is 1.5 cups, so I add another cup of water to get a total of 2.5 cups liquid -- the ideal ratio.)
Bring to a boil, reduce the heat to low, cover, and cook until the liquid is absorbed and the rice is tender, about 20 minutes.
Remove from heat, fluff the rice, and stir in the cilantro.

I served the rice with salmon that I doused in a couple of tablespoons of soy sauce, then sprinkled with brown sugar and crushed garlic and baked in a hot (400 degree) oven for 20 minutes. I could eat this meal once a week. It is that good.

2011: Thousands of Futures

 

There's a lot of buzz right now about the new year: resolutions, house cleaning, and getting fit. For me, it's cacophony. I've been scrambling to get on top (and stay on top) of my world since 2009. It hasn't happened yet. There have been massive to-do lists, endless sorting piles, cleaning frenzies, resolutions and promises. And I still end each day with an overflow pile that leaves me wishing I needed much less sleep. 

And then, I woke up and things felt different. Today the sun is shining, the coffee in the tin is ground. I showered before 9 a.m., which for a work from home writer, is a feat. The piles and boxes in every room of our new house seem to be diminishing. With each trip to the recycling bin comes a small sense of order that is endlessly satisfying. 

Perhaps it's the 90 minute yoga class I attended last night, but I am feeling good. This doesn't mean that I won't spiral back down quickly -- just last Saturday --January 1!-- I was despondent over the book. Would it sell? How to pay the rent?

But today, the world seems bright. And it reminds me of something I posted on January 3, 2010, a passage I love that will continue to carry me (and you?) into another new year:

"Sometimes the days burst open like seedpods and we see thousands of futures, and it's so much that our throats swell and we can't do anything but turn away and forget that gleaming, all that possibility. Who could live into such brightness? Sometimes the days beat their wings slowly so we can take their measure, so we know how lucky we are that we are being given just one moment more."
From The Slippery Year: A Meditation on Happily Ever After, by Melanie Gideon

 

I was in a very different spot last year: broken heart, life full of disorder.  Now things are different. I fell in love again, and finished writing my book. But I still adore Melanie's words, and thought about them a lot as 2010 was spinning into 2011.  

 

This wasn't supposed to be a mushy, reflective musing. It was supposed to be a bit about the kick-ass coconut cilantro rice I've cooked two times in 2011. But I guess that's the point  -- isn't it? Sometimes plans go awry, and when they do, it's best to pick yourself up and keep going. We've got a thousand different futures, after all, each of them gleaming and full of good fortune.

Happy New Year. 

 

P.S. If you want to take some concrete steps to a better 2011, check here. If you want to be more mindful and look a little more carefully at your environment, check here. And if you want to simply focus on the good, try this. xo