Chicken in Artichoke Sauce with Fettucine

OK, I've had three requests for this recipe from FB friends, and although I gave away the magic ingredient, they are apparently not satisfied! In case you missed it, the base of this dish is William Sonoma's Artichoke Lemon Sauce. But OH NO!! I just went to link it to this post and it no longer exists! I did see some in the store the other day, so I guess I am going to buy up whatever I can! Someone (Marsha probably) had given me a jar as a gift, and I was admittedly hesitant to use it. I like artichokes, but they are not on my list of top twenty favorite ingredients. Then there was the lemon problem. Ray is (theoretically anyway) opposed to strong lemon tastes in dishes to be accompanied by wine. And who has a great pasta dish without wine? Silly, I know. But there it was in my pantry, Dennis was coming to dinner, and I know he likes artichokes so...I thought it would be good with chicken. And something green. Plus we had some niçoise olives in the fridge and some really good parm.

So I went to work. I bought some chicken thighs at Whole Foods. We don't eat that much meat so I am really snobby about the little meat I do buy. I bought some Canadian asparagus and some really good fettucine. Our usual source for dry pasta Tony's Colonial on Federal Hill in Providence, and for fresh pasta is Venda Ravioli, just down the street from Tony's, but although it would certainly not be unlike me or Ray to hop in the car and drive to Providence, it didn't seen like a great idea fort his event, so I stopped by William Sonoma once again, and bought some of their very pricey fettucine. Now, before you give up on me and my insistance on really good ingredients, let me just say that this whole thing--dinner for three but which would easily have fed six, cost less than a lot of people pay for steak. And in my opinion it was better, and really easy!

Ingredients:

1 jar William Sonoma Artichoke Lemon Sauce if you can find it! 

8 chicken thighs (with skin and bones)

1 package fettucine

1 pound asparagus cut into two - three inch lengths

4 T olive oil divided

1/2 cup nicoise olives

Freshly grated parmesan

Freshly snipped herbs

Browning the chicken

1. Toss eight chicken thighs (with skin and bone) in flour and shake off excess.
2. Heat 2 T olive oil in each of two saute pans ( I used my big dutch oven and another cast iron frying skillet) It's important to heat the oil but you have to add the chicken before the oil starts to smoke or you might as well have used Crisco. 
3. Divide the chicken between the pans and brown it on both sides. As tempting as it is, do not turn them for at least a couple of minutes. If you go too fast they will stick. The right temperature is important for that reason too. Patience is a virtue here. The chicken must be well-browned on both sides, not only for the color, but because you will release a lot of fat which you can pour off before adding the sauce. But you don't want it burn them or overcook them either.
4. When they are a beautiful deep golden color, remove them from the pan and pour off the fat.

Assembly

1. Deglaze the larger pan with a little white wine (1/4 cup), scraping the bottom to incorporate all the yummy chicken bits.
2. Add one jar sauce (I will soon find an equivalent of the W & S!)
3. Heat gently and return the chicken to the sauce.
4. Cover and cook gently for about 20-30 minutes. Test the doneness of the chicken by pushing against it lightly. It's done when it springs back.
5. Steam one pound of thin asparagus that has been cut into two-three inch lengths (I use my microwave vegetable steamer) 
6. Cook the fettucine according to the directions. Drain it and place it in a large pasta bowl to which  you have added a few spoonfuls of the sauce.
7. Arrange the chicken on top of the pasta, pour the sauce over. Toss in the asparagus, some olives and top with grated parmesan and some chopped fresh herbs. I used parsley and basil from my garden.

And that's it. Although I really love to make my own sauces, I have used the W&S sauces several times and they are quite good. The Chicken Tagine sauce is another favorite. When you want to make an impressive dinner, but time is short, it's a great solution. I am going to head over there tomorrow and stock up!

Vegetable galette! Yum!!

Silpin Silicon Rolling pin

OK, admittedly, it has been awhile, and I have stored up some great food memories to record. If only I can remember all the pertinent details! So I guess I'll start with the most recent! I have always been intimidated about pastry. My grandmother was a fairly lousy cook--being British and all-- but she made flaky, melt-in-your-mouth pie crusts. I did get her recipe and I tried. Combination of lard and butter.

But the harder I tried, the more leaden my crusts. I just didn't get it. I watched videos and read Julia's bible. But to no avail. Until today. First I got a super-duper rolling pin from Marsha for Christmas. Then, Ray gave me a subscription to Cooks Illustrated. Cooks Illustrated is a text-laden and glossy photo-free magazine for geeky science cooks. Like me! The article on making galettes explained my pastry woes in a comprehensible and fascinating way. And even though I did not (or could not) follow every step perfectly, my leek and mushroom galette was far superior to any pastry I have made.

The recipe called for gorgonzola, but although I am pretty much a fan of the general category of blue cheese, my last experience of spinach and gorgonzola ravioli from my beloved Venda Ravioli in Providence was not great. Bitter, to say the least, and the cheese did not marry well with the spinach or the sauce. So I substituted gruyère. I used far fewer mushrooms than indicated, and I used more leeks. I didn't measure the crème fraiche or the mustard, but other than that I tried to follow the recipe. The key is in leaving big chunks of butter unblended and not over-incorporating the water. Letting the dough rest allows the water to soak in without breaking down the little globs of butter that will eventually make the pastry flaky. At least that's the theory. Probably my globs were a little too big. And I didn't let it rest quite long enough. When Ray breezed through the kitchen I was my typical snarly I-suck-at-making-pastry self. He headed straight to the man cave. Wisely. But although I did struggle with the folding and the rolling again process, the result was amazing. The pastry recipe, which will eventually appear below, has a little whole wheat flour for crunch and body, a little sugar and a little vinegar. The presence of each ingredient was carefully explained. Of course I don't remember much except the butter and water part. But it did hold up the to the vegetable filling and was flaky and crunchy and, oh yes, very pretty when the whole thing came out of the oven. In our younger days, we would have served this as an appetizer, but these days we don't quite have the capacity, so with a glass of Campuget and a nice little salad, we were ready to say. "Bon appétit!"

If only all November weekends were like this one!

Having barely had any exercise since we returned from Boston two weeks ago, I was very anxious to get outside this weekend. We thought a hike on Saturday and a bike ride on Sunday would be a good idea given the glorious weather. For our hike we headed down to Cobalt, CT--I know, you've never heard of it! It's a tiny place near East Hampton, roughly across the Connecticut from Middletown. To get there you take route 66 east from route 9 to the intersection with 151 (Depot Hill Road). Turn left, then at the fork bear left up a steep hill. You then turn right in Gadpouch Road, and after it turns into a dirt road, look for blue trail markers on the left. There is a little semi-circular pull off across from the trail where you can park. It is hike number #25 in the book 50 Hikes in Connecticut. The very first part of the hike takes you through some mucky terrain and across some brooks, but the tall trees and the craggy outcrops had us oohing and ahing despite the distinct possibility of wet feet and turned ankles. Soon however, we were climbing through the rocks up to the top of the ridge. There were plenty of downed trees due to winter storm Alfred but some had been removed from the trail, and others already had a beaten path around them, so they were not as much an obstacle as we had feared.

Once on top of the ridge, we admired the views of a small lake below and the twisting Connecticut in the distance. I was ready to eat the steak, fig, spinach and mustard changes I had made, but Ray said "Not yet!""Fine" I sighed. We continued along the ridge, heading north towards a cascade we were supposed to reach after 2.5 miles. It was not particularly difficult because we had already done the biggest part of the ascent, but going around the enormous trees and being careful not to lose our footing on the many loose stones beneath the leaves had us moving more slowly than we had hoped. I glimpsed a deer  leaping through the dappled sunlight and Ray stopped to admire the shapes of the huge recently fallen trees. The weather was so perfect! The only thing giving away the mid-November date was the daylight that made it seem much later than it was. This and the realization that it was the first Saturday of the hunting season had us turning around not long after we encountered some old-timer hunters at a road crossing. The cascade, only about 1/2 a mile away, would have to wait.


Still, we got back to the car unscathed, albeit a little muddy. The descent is the most difficult part for me so I was glad when we were out. Ray's knee held up magnificently. And he even had enough energy to go out to dinner!

We decided to go to Firebox in Hartford. It's such a cozy place for an autumn meal. We sat at the bar, which is what we normally like to do. It is at once more intimate and more social. It was quite a challenge selecting a bottle of wine, but once the mission was accomplished, we selected our food. Ray had the duck, which I barely even saw it was consumed so rapturously and so quickly, and I had the salmon--beautifully plated. The colors and the balance of flavors and textures were exquisite! The chianti was a perfect accompaniment.

Sunday morning we arose, did a few chores and errands and then headed to our local bike trail in Vernon. We were prepared to find it closed, or at least difficult, but although there was massive destruction of venerable old trees, the trail had been cleared. There were quite a few "widow makers" dangling overhead, but plenty of joggers, strollers and fellow cyclists were out enjoying the beautiful day, seemingly oblivious to the dangers. We joined them. Sixteen miles is a mere jaunt now and we pedaled along contentedly. It is rare for us to be on this trail among barren trees, but we did see things we never knew were there. The gentle and unseasonably warm afternoon light filled us with a glow of "bien-être". We are not sure how many calories we burned, but we feel we deserve the Cornish game hens on the menu for tonight.

The Cornish game hens with onion compote were yummy. I had to go to Highland for the hens, where I bought the only one they had. It was certainly enough for two, so I only made 1/3 of the recipe. I added a little of the fig mostarda compote that Marsha had given me, and I used less sugar than called for, but other than that I followed the recipe. I roasted some little potatoes with the hens and we had a spinach salad. The hens were succulent and the onion compote was a great addition. I made the pan sauce, but it might not have been necessary. Ray had hoped to serve a Chinon, but was disappointed in it, so we had our standby Campuget Costiere de Nimes. We've said it before, but Rhone wines seem to go with everything! Chateau de Campuget is particularly delightful because it always brings back the wonderful lunch we had there last summer.

Escaping from a storm - photographic retrospective...

Back to normal--almost!

Despite a nightly battle with Comcast (we have internet but our big TV has been getting sicker and sicker) we are spending our first evening feeling we are indeed, home again. Partly to welcome Maggie on her first visit to our home without Margaret, and partly to thank Marsha and Dennis for their hospitality while we were homeless (or at least toiletless), we are making one of our favorite comfort food meals - Osso buco! I have used this recipe from Epicurious for years, and it's always a hit. It's one of those dishes that really benefit from being made the day before and my favorite tactic is to forget it in the oven! The first time this happened, Ray had wandered by and seeing the oven on, turned it off. I was typically oblivous and had completely forgotten  that I had left it in the oven. So I went to bed. At 2:00 am I awoke in terror. "OMG! The osso buco!"

I scurried to the kitchen in the dark and carefully lifted the pot out of the oven. Sure smelled good. I put it in the fridge and the next evening, it was magnificent! I was hoping for the same result tonight, although I didn't repeat the forgetful part, so it might not be quite as good. But if you are thinking of making it, do not skip the gremolata. The lemon and parsley balance the richness of the stew perfectly. To accompany it, the recipe suggests polenta, but I have not been too successful making it, so I make a simple risotto with onions, parmesan, chicken broth and a tiny bit of saffron. A salad, some bread and voilà!

Ray, Marsha and Maggie sampling cheese

As I was making the risotto, everyone sat around the island and sampled the cheeses Ray had bought at Whole Foods. One, a blue from Bourgogne was particularly good. What was it called? Good question, we will return and buy some more to find out. (Update: It's called Persillé du Beaujolais) For our red wine we had a simple but delicious Toscana (2007) from Villa Antinori. No time to make dessert, so I bought a lemon meringue pie from the Vernon Diner, and everyone seemed to like it, but I wish I had had time to make my own...

Saved in Boston

So the plan was to hop in the car and drive off to the Ayers / Nashua bike trail. The morning was, um, quite cold, but crystal clear. The previous night had not been restful due to an exuberant wedding party that just would not quit. We did manage to get free breakfasts and 10,000 extra Marriott points for our bleary-eyed complaints, so that was OK.

After a few false turns we found ourselves in the middle of Ayers, Massachusetts. A pretty depressing post-industrial place with a Subway, a Mobil station and a Dunkin' Donuts. The trail nonetheless, presented itself, along with a fully outfitted couple of young cyclists with East European accents. Dressed in skin-tight black cycling pants they sped off ahead of us onto a leaf covered trail. We darted around several downed branches and ducked under several dangling branches before we encountered the yellow police tape and "Do Not Enter" sign across the trail. The young couple picked up their bikes and went around the tape. What could we do? Of course, we followed them. But it got worse and worse, and more and more dangerous. When we finally encountered an entire enormous oak tree across our path we turned around. Arriving back at the car, we realized our friends had followed us out. Now what? Our mood had rapidly changed from cheery to cranky. It was a beautiful day. We couldn't ride our bikes. It was futile to find another trail, especially since it would be getting dark early on this first day back in EST. So...Boston!

We set the GPS and headed southeast. After briefly discussing parking strategies, we decided to drive directly to Newbury Street and take our chances. We crossed the Mass Ave Bridge (does it have another name?) from Cambridge and immediately found a parking place on the street! A good omen! We could not ride our bikes because we didn't have our helmets and they are rightly pretty strict about it in Boston. We don't always use them on trails because we are not that fast, and I often get splitting headaches from mine. Also, the wind blowing through my hair makes me feel like a ten year-old! But we are (ok, I am) fairly law-abiding so another day of urban-hiking was in order.

We headed up Newbury Street, across the Common and noted the bizarrely green grass and trees that had not yet lost their leaves. We had just gone through a treacherous winter week but it looked and felt, like late September. Strolling up Charles Street we thought first of brunch at the Beacon Hill Bistro, but there would be an hour wait, so we continued to Toscano Restaurant. I remembered having a delicious pasta lunch there years ago with Margaret and Sheila (both together or separately I'm not sure). It did not disappoint! I had a delicious butternut squash soup that had tomatoes and Parmesan croutons with a tricolore salad, and Ray had a seafood stew. After lunch we crossed over to the park along the river and walked back to our car. Boston is so beautiful! We debated the virtues of a pied-à-terre there or in Providence. I love Providence, but as long as this is all imaginary, I vote for Boston.

Once back in Tolland, we commiserated with the neighbors, got some more underwear and headed over to the Meegans, who had graciously accepted to feed us and lodge us for the night. We watched the Patriots lose, ate a wonderful spaghetti dinner and learned that our power was back on. Briefly, as it turned out, but long enough to drain the septic system. We were highly skeptical about the return of power without any work having been done. Had they simply flipped a switch that could have been flipped a week ago? Were they just trying to pump up their numbers for the evening news? Awfully transparent, its seems to me.

Exiled on the North Shore - don't cry!

Having returned briefly to Connecticut, and finding the welcome, well, not warm, we gathered some more clothes and zoomed off on a new adventure. We headed to the Marriott in Woburn, which is convenient, clean, cheap and gives me extra points for a free night somewhere, sometime soon. Feeling the need to take a break from the fine dining scene, we ordered pizza from a famous Boston area chain - Regina Pizzeria and settled in to watch TV and admire the sunset over route 93.

My Trails app view

A beautiful, chilly morning welcomed us and we decided to explore the picturesque fishing ports along the North Shore. It would be a walking, rather than cycling day, since the temperatures, the hills and the traffic made urban hiking a better choice. In Marblehead I tried my  "My Trails" app to track our walking tour, and it was pretty cool, although I really need to do a better job of charging my iPhone. It totally died before we were done.

The jumble of early American architecture, rock walls, and seascapes glittered in the brilliant morning sun. Particularly impressive was the hilltop Old Burial Ground. After our walk we had very nice lobster salads and a glass each of Murphy Goode Sauvignon Blanc at the Landing.

Then it was on to Salem, where we had our obligatory afternoon coffee followed by a visit to the Peabody Essex Museum. We had been there years ago, but it has been greatly expanded and aside from the impressive collection reflecting Salem's seafaring past, its Asian connections and its amazing Native American display, we learned a lot about surrealists Lee Miller and Man Ray. Our afternoon ended with a sunset stop in Rockport, where there were too many shops and too many tourists, but the view was nonetheless worth the trip.