Easy Indian Butter Chicken

Namaste everyone!

I recently returned from a business trip to India though I must confess I did steal a few hours to myself here and there while in Delhi, Hyderabad and Mumbai. I ate well as one does quite often In India and for the life of me cannot remember all the wonderful dishes that I eagerly sampled but the taste and the delightful aromas remain a wonderful memory. Here is one of the more popular Indian dishes which rumor has it originated from a famous old restaurant in Delhi. I found it impossible not to love this dish with a sauce that is both rich and silky. I almost died when I first had it in Hyderabad and have been a devoted follower every since. I am sure someone will let me know how could I dismiss the region’s number one dish – that being Hyderabadi Biryani. Well, hate to break this to you, I find butter chicken more to my liking but maybe not my waistline. Ah the sacrifices one has to do in life.

Indian Butter Chicken

Ingredients

2 tablespoons of lemon juice

1 teaspoon Garam Masala Powder

1 tablespoon Ginger-Garlic Paste

1 teaspoon Tandoori Masala

Salt, to taste

2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken

1 cup Makhani Masala

2 tablespoons ghee

1 tablespoon brown sugar

1/2 cup heavy cream

1 tablespoon kasuri methi

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a large mixing bowl, mix together the lemon juice, Garam Masala, Ginger-Garlic Paste, Tandoori Masala, and 1 teaspoon of salt. Add the chicken. Mix then transfer to a baking dish and bake for 10 minutes. Note: You may wish to marinate the chicken for at least half an hour before baking it in the oven. Just saying.

2. Transfer the baked chicken to the slow cooker (discarding extra liquid). Add the Makhani Masala and the rest of the ingredients except for the heavy cream and kasuri methi”mum.” Adjust salt as needed. Mix well, cover and cook on high for 2 hours or on low for 4 hours.

3. Add the heavy cream and kasuri methi. Stir well. Cover and cook on high for another twenty minutes or until the chicken is cooked and you can no longer stand the delightful aromas.  Serve with Naan (buttered garlic Naan please) and/or simple steamed rice.

Now, what to drink with butter chicken you ask? May I suggest a nice cold bottle or two of Kingfisher Indian beer. Nothing better!! Would you like I bring one for you now “mum”?

Leg of lamb, Brittany-style or Gigot d’agneau à la Bretonne

A Breton Foodie Trilogy No. 2

If you have ever been to Brittany you surely know that the region is famous for, among many other things, its lamb – tender, innocent young animals who spend their early years grazing on the salt marshes or meadows off the coast of Brittany and Normandy, coastal areas which are often flooded by the sea in the spring. As a result, the lamb is rich and uniquely flavorful and, in my humble opinion, quite unmatched anywhere. In France, the lambs are slaughtered generally between 120-200 days old. The lamb served with the traditional garnish of dried white beans. For me, this is a dish that brings back many wonderful memories of family meals at our home in Brittany. Our wonderful cook and housekeeper and second mother, would present the lamb in all its glory placing in front of my father who would do the honors. That day, all of us around the luncheon table, everything seemed right with the world. Or at least my world.   

Gigot d’agneau à la Bretonne

INGREDIENTS

serves 6

1.8 kg (4 lb) leg of lamb

350 g (12 oz) dried haricot beans, soaked overnight

butter for greasing

1 – 2 garlic cloves, cut into thin slivers

salt and ground black pepper

30 ml (2 tbsp) melted butter

1 Spanish onion, coarsely chopped

90 ml (6 tbsp) olive oil

400 g (14 oz) canned peeled tomatoes, coarsely chopped

60 ml (4 tbsp) finely chopped parsley

flat-leaved parsley, to garnish

PREPARATION

1. Cook the soaked beans in unsalted water for 1 1/2 hours or until tender. Allow the lamb to come up to room temperature.

2. A good Brittany tradition is to open up a good bottle of Cidre Bouché Brut and pour yourself a glass. 

3. Heat the oven to 170°C (325°F) gas 3. Butter a shallow, flameproof casserole or gratin dish just large enough to hold the leg of lamb comfortably.

4. Prick the lamb all over with the point of a sharp knife and insert a sliver of garlic in each incision. Season generously with salt and freshly ground black pepper. Place the lamb in the greased baking dish on a rack and sprinkle with the melted butter. Roast for 45 minutes.

5. Saute the coarsely chopped onion in 30 ml (2 tbsp) olive oil until transparent.

6. Remove the lamb from the rack. Spoon the drained cooked beans, chopped tomatoes, sauteed onions, finely chopped parsley and 60 ml (4 tbsp) olive oil into the dish in which the lamb was cooked. Place the lamb on top and cook for a further 25 minutes. Give the bean mixture a stir, then continue roasting for another 20 minutes, or until the lamb is tender and the juices run pink when the meat is pierced.

7. When the lamb is cooked, place it on a heated serving dish and leave to rest for 10 – 15 minutes in the turned-off oven, with the door open. Keep the bean mixture hot and when the lamb has rested add the bean mixture to the dish. Garnish with sprigs of flat-leaved parsley and serve.

About Those Wines…

This time, rather than suggesting various wines, it’s more appropriate to suggest some wonderful country cider:

Val de Rance IGP Bretagne Cidre Bouché Brut

Ferme des Landes Cidre Bouché de Bretagne Brut

CCLF Cidre Écusson Bouché de Bretagne Brut

For desert, there is only thing that comes to my mind. Yes, another evocative moment, another case of Marcel Proust and the infamous Madeleine. This takes me back to another time and place. It’s something that I must release and not deny.  

So now go bring down from that large colorful tin box of cookies from the top shelf of the Breton-style cupboard. Cookie tin is kept safely out of the reach from curious little hands. If a few are missing, you won’t get me to confess on single thing and no self-respecting thief ever would! Please understand these cookies are not ordinary cookies by any stretch of the imagination. This colorful tin is filled with buttery, salty crisp cookies with a heritage that is Brittany through and through. “Mère Poulard” opened her in restaurant in 1879 on a tiny island off the coast of Brittany that we know as Mont St. Michel.  Some might say that the tiny little island is really off the coast of Normandy. I suppose it all depends on the tides. But no matter,  tradition of excellence continues to this day and if you are ever on the island you must stop by the store and buy a box of these salty sweet gems. I always do. 

 

Monkfish Brittany-style or Lotte Armoricaine

A Breton Foodie Trilogy No 1

It’s inevitable really when you think about it, that I should return, if not in body then certainly in mind and spirit, to Brittany (Breizh) a region steeped in history and mystery on France’s northwestern most region extending out, almost defiantly towards the Atlantic Ocean. It’s been more than just a while since I stood out along a familiar stretch of pink-granite coast overlooking a sea of emerald blue. And the air! I assure you that nothing quite surpasses its unbelievable freshness; it is powerful and potent and almost medicinal some would argue. The French like to think of going to Brittany as something of a cure. They would argue that one gets “re-oxygenated” and sufficiently reinvigorated to return to Paris and continue the battle. I have myself to blame for not returning to Brittany but running around the world can be a bit draining after a while. But now I too feel the need to “re-oxygenate” myself and just between you and me, there is a secret plan being hatched by yours truly to catch a TGV train from Paris heading in the general direction of Rennes. From there the adventure begins. 

Now about this dish. I would think that serving monkfish Brittany-style along with an Apple and Calvados Sorbet either as desert or an “amuse bouche” should put you just squarely in the heart of Brittany that land of mystery, Merlin, the Forest Of Broceliande, and the Knights Templar.  

Martine’s ‘Lotte à l’Armoricaine’ 

Serves 4

Ingredients

• 1.2 kg fresh Monkfish fillets (or substitute for other firm white fish)
• 50 grams salted butter (obviously Martine’s is butter from Bretagne with salt de Guérande) but if you don’t live in France you will have to make do with good quality salted butter
• 3 tbsp olive oil
• 1 standard tin of peeled tomato puree
• 1 tbsp tomato puree (concentrate)
• 1 white onion
• 2 shallots
• Dried herbs de Provence (parsley, thyme, bay leaves)
• 2 cloves garlic
• 2 tablespoons of plain white flour
• Half a bottle dry white wine
• 250 ml fish stock
• 50 ml cognac (feel free to add a little more)
• 1 handful fresh coriander
• Small pinch piment d’espelette (a special Basque-country, dried spice).
The closest substitute is cayenne pepper which will work in a “pinch”
• 3-4 threads saffron
• Sea salt and pepper to taste
• Juice of half a lemon

Directions

The monkfish is a tricky fish to prepare by yourself so it’s much easier to have the monkfish prepared and cut into medallions by your fishmonger.

Coat the fish fillets lightly in flour. In a heavy-based or good quality cast-iron pan, melt the butter and add the olive oil so that the butter does not burn.

Place the monkfish fillets in the pan then add the cognac. Light the cognac with a flame and flambé. Take the pan off the heat, place the fish aside in a separate dish and put it aside to rest.

Finely dice the garlic, onion and shallots. Gently cook the garlic and onions in the flambéed saucepan then the tomatoes, fish stock, white wine, piment d’espelette and herbs de 

Provence. Allow to simmer gently until the sauce has reduced and concentrated in flavour, for at least 20 minutes.

Finally, add the pieces of fish to the sauce in the pan and cook for only a further 5 or so minutes. Just before serving, add fresh coriander and saffron, salt and pepper to taste.

Serve with rice. Now close your eyes, pour a glass of wine and imagine yourself on the coast of Brittany…or looking for Merlin.

Apple and Calvados Sorbet 

Bracing Calvados and tart hints of lemon make a fantastic sorbet recipe to serve at dinner parties and special occasions. Serve it as a light dessert or as an unexpected palate cleanser between courses.

• 1 1/3 cup peeled, chopped tart apple (1 large)
• 3 cups water
• ½ cup granulated sugar
• ¼ cup lemon juice
• ¼ teaspoon lemon zest
• ¼ cup Calvados, or apple brandy

Grilled Octopus Yucatan style or Pulpo a la parrilla de Yucatán

As business trips go, this one was not so bad. After all I found myself in the Mexican Caribbean, the weather was lovely and hot, the scenery quite memorable and the seafood simply delicious indeed.

It was nearing the end of the day, I was tired or more likely exhausted having been with clients trying to work through a seemingly impossible list of demands one after another. Rest and relaxation and a good meal were foremost in my mind as I made my way to a well recommended seafood restaurant located practically on the beach, right off Boulevard Kukulcanon.

A gentle offshore breeze thankfully kept things remarkably pleasant. I sat there looking out, mesmerized by the sheer whiteness of the sand which is nothing like our beach sand on the Mid Atlantic coast of the United States. The water was amazingly clear and it’s a beautiful turquoise blue that is captivating to the point of being almost hypnotic. It all seemed a bit surreal. Gazing out, my thoughts drifted off taking me somewhere perhaps to my very own Gulf island or perhaps to a brightly painted fishing boat plying these very turquoise waters.

A white uniformed waiter appeared at my side and with a discrete“Senor?” interrupted my pleasantly lubricated thoughts, courtesy of a few Mojito cocktails, I might add. I looked up in his direction and there he stood with a large round tray, almost as big as he was, laden with seafood. I must have looked a bit more confused than I normally do because, he politely and systematically went on to identify each one: snapper here, mahi dorado there, tuna, grouper, octopus here, sea bass, lobster there, shrimp, prawns and a few more that I can no longer recall. I asked his advice. With a big smile, he pointed towards the octopus. Grilled he added. “Muy delicioso!” I followed his advice and ordered another Mojito. The question of appetizers still remained.

One of the more popular dishes in this part of the Caribbean Yucatan is cevicheor fresh raw fish that has been marinated in citrus juices which coagulates the proteins of the fish and cooks it quite effectively. Ceviche can be seasoned with tomatoes, chopped onions, chilies, cilantro, salt and coriander. It was an excellent choice, I might add and there was enough to feed a small army. I will choose this dish again, guaranteed.

The main course arrived in time, and the grilled octopus Yucatan style was a thing of pure beauty. It was to be admired then enjoyed. It was tasty and not too chewy as it can sometimes be. I settled in and began the process of systematically making my way through a piece of Heaven itself. I ended my meal with a Mexican Flan or baked custard. What a wonderful way to end a meal. I was thankful I did not have that far to walk. It was dark when I left, I could hear the music off in the distance perhaps from another bar or restaurant. A breeze picked-up. It was a beautiful evening to walk back to my hotel.

Pulpo a la parrilla de Yucatán

Ingredients:
3 pounds cleaned octopus
1 bay leaf
4 thyme branches
20 peppercorns
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
1 head of garlic, cut in half through its equator
3 lemons
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
Minced parsley for garnish

Instructions

1. Combine the octopus, bay leaf, thyme, peppercorns, 1 teaspoon salt, the garlic, and 1 of the lemons, cut in half, in a saucepan along with water to cover. Turn the heat to medium, cover, and bring to a boil. Adjust the heat so that the liquid simmers slowly and cook until the octopus is tender, 30 to 90 minutes (check with the point of a sharp knife). Drain, discarding all the solids (except for the octopus). You can prepare this 24 hours in advance up to this point; cover and refrigerate the octopus.

2. Start a charcoal or wood fire or preheat a gas grill; the fire should be quite hot and the grill rack about 4 inches from the heat source. Cut the octopus into large serving pieces, brush it with half the olive oil, and sprinkle it with salt and pepper. Grill it quickly, so that the outside browns before the inside dries out. Cut the remaining lemon into wedges.

3. Brush the octopus with the remaining olive oil. Serve with lemon wedges, hot or at room temperature, garnished with the parsley.

Monkfish Brittany-style or Lotte Armoricaine

View of Fort Lalatte from the Cap Frehel

It’s inevitable really when you think about it, that I should return, if not in body then certainly in mind and spirit, to Brittany (Breizh) a region steeped in history and mystery on France’s northwestern most region extending out, almost defiantly towards the Atlantic Ocean. It’s been more than just a while since I stood out along a familiar stretch of pink-granite coast overlooking a sea of emerald blue. And the air! I assure you that nothing quite surpasses its unbelievable freshness; it is powerful and potent and almost medicinal some would argue. The French like to think of going to Brittany as something of a cure. They would argue that one gets “re-oxygenated” and sufficiently reinvigorated to return to Paris and continue the battle. I have myself to blame for not returning to Brittany but running around the world can be a bit draining after a while. But now I too feel the need to “re-oxygenate” myself and just between you and me, there is a secret plan being hatched by yours truly to catch a TGV train from Paris heading in the general direction of Rennes. From there the adventure begins. 

Now about this dish. I would think that serving monkfish Brittany-style along with an Apple and Calvados Sorbet either as desert or an “amuse bouche” should put you just squarely in the heart of Brittany that land of mystery, Merlin, the Forest Of Broceliande, and the Knights Templar.  

Martine’s ‘Lotte à l’Armoricaine’ 

Serves 4

Ingredients

•1.2 kg fresh Monkfish fillets (or substitute for other firm white fish)
• 50 grams salted butter (obviously Martine’s is butter from Bretagne with salt de Guérande) but if you don’t live in France you will have to make do with good quality salted butter
• 3 tbsp olive oil
• 1 standard tin of peeled tomato puree
• 1 tbsp tomato puree (concentrate)
• 1 white onion
• 2 shallots
• Dried herbs de Provence (parsley, thyme, bay leaves)
• 2 cloves garlic
• 2 tablespoons of plain white flour
• Half a bottle dry white wine
• 250 ml fish stock
• 50 ml cognac (feel free to add a little more)
• 1 handful fresh coriander
• Small pinch piment d’espelette (a special Basque-country, dried spice).
The closest substitute is cayenne pepper which will work in a “pinch”
• 3-4 threads saffron
• Sea salt and pepper to taste
• Juice of half a lemon

Directions

The monkfish is a tricky fish to prepare by yourself so it’s much easier to have the monkfish prepared and cut into medallions by your fishmonger.

Coat the fish fillets lightly in flour. In a heavy-based or good quality cast-iron pan, melt the butter and add the olive oil so that the butter does not burn.

Place the monkfish fillets in the pan then add the cognac. Light the cognac with a flame and flambé. Take the pan off the heat, place the fish aside in a separate dish and put it aside to rest.

Finely dice the garlic, onion and shallots. Gently cook the garlic and onions in the flambéed saucepan then the tomatoes, fish stock, white wine, piment d’espelette and herbs de 

Provence. Allow to simmer gently until the sauce has reduced and concentrated in flavour, for at least 20 minutes.

Finally, add the pieces of fish to the sauce in the pan and cook for only a further 5 or so minutes. Just before serving, add fresh coriander and saffron, salt and pepper to taste.

Serve with rice. Now close your eyes, pour a glass of wine and imagine yourself on the coast of Brittany…or looking for Merlin.

Apple and Calvados Sorbet 

Bracing Calvados and tart hints of lemon make a fantastic sorbet recipe to serve at dinner parties and special occasions. Serve it as a light dessert or as an unexpected palate cleanser between courses.

• 1 1/3 cup peeled, chopped tart apple (1 large)
• 3 cups water
• ½ cup granulated sugar
• ¼ cup lemon juice
• ¼ teaspoon lemon zest
• ¼ cup Calvados, or apple brandy

A fishing village in Turkey – Part 1

This picture may fool some of you into thinking I am once again up to no good rattling around somewhere in the South of France. Perhaps a little fishing village, south of Antibes? Good guess but oh so very dead wrong.

Allow me, dear readers, to recount for you a snippet of a story about my stay in a small, quite picturesque Turkish fishing village hugging the Aegean Sea and just miles from Izmir – a bustling city if there ever was one. You see, I arrived, only after my driver made several wrong turns, at my destination under cover of darkness; me, my bags my passport and a terrible thirst for a strong drink. Arriving somewhat incognito was probably a good thing I thought as an American in town would probably have attracted more than your normal share of curiosity and questions. I wanted neither. The sleepy desk clerk quietly observed my efforts as I struggled towards him with my suitcases. I reached the desk, looked at him, smiled and rang the bell. Two could play this game. He looked back at me and uttered the universal word understood by all weary travelers: “Passport.” It was a beautiful beginning. He then made enough gestures for me to understand that my signature was desired on a document written entirely in Turkish. I signed and prayed that I was not agreeing to be taken to Istanbul and thrown in a Turkish prison. Let’s just say the movie Midnight Express kept coming back to me. Grumpy reviewed my passport with great interest. I felt as if I was crossing the Czech border at midnight in some God awful Cold War movie where everything is in black and white, raining and generally uncomfortable. At that moment, I felt I could still run from police. The night clerk nodded his approval only after having carefully examined my passport from cover to cover, upside down.

I was handed the key to room 205 and up the narrow winding stairs I went, panting and tugging at my suitcase, one damn stair at a time. The room was furnished early 1950’s Turkish beach house style, I imagine as I really have no idea what that might look like but I think I was close. The paint was chipping here and there. The bathroom looked challenging and the shower foreboding. The bed had a slight starboard list to it. Only one plug was in evidence and even though I was hanging out from the wall, that was going to be for my iPhone and computer even if it meant that the power surge blew up the hotel.  Opening the porch door I stepped out into the inky darkness of night. I could immediately smell the Aegean. Somewhere out there in the distance there appeared faint hints of lights, dotting the horizon here and there. I could hear the occasional clanging of the lanyards on the masts of sailboats. The air had that strong smell of salt and fish. Somewhere along the waterfront, I heard the faint sound of music and lyrics I could not even begin to understand.

 

 

The next morning after remembering just where I thought I was, I stepped out onto the porch to get a better idea of my geographical bearings. It was a bright and clear morning. There was no evidence of any fishing fleet around though I thought I vaguely recalled hearing the sound of trawlers firing up their engines as they prepared to head off for a day of fishing in the clear waters of the Aegean. All I saw were some unknown land masses off into the distance and a single trawler working the waters, back and forth, close to shore.

I was hungry and decided I would play guess that land mass at a later date. Downstairs I was greeted by a lovely young lady who pointed the way “breakfast, yes?” she said broken British English. The breakfast was a buffet of strange looking foods some I thought really had no business ever seeing the light of day. I reviewed the dozen or so dishes looking for something I might recognize and went for some salty goat cheese, olives, tomatoes, hard boiled eggs and something that looked like it wanted to a bagel. I mastered the multiple options coffee machine and I was now ready for a feast sitting out on the porch overlooking the water. The same friendly little lady who politely steered me to breakfast came by and inquired, in her best English, if my accommodations were satisfactory. She followed up with: “You are from Washington, yes?” That was close enough for government work and I nodded as I worked though my boiled egg. Not to be deterred in her mission she continued: ” We have another guest also from Washington she is basketball player.” I felt like saying “now just a GD minute lady, I didn’t fall off no turnip truck, as far as I know ESPN or the NBA don’t broadcast or play here. More juice please.” Instead, I feigned complete and utter surprise at this factoid and told her I sincerely hoped I would meet this famous basketball star. She smiled, I smiled, we both smiled and nodded. More juice please? I asked.

I thought over the days agenda. There was lunch. Maybe I could walk the village from end to end. Dinner would be a business meeting with my client driving in from Izmir bringing with him customers who had flown in from Ankara. He had told me the name of the restaurant where we would have dinner. I planned to check it out during my village visit. Maybe things could get interesting in this little town.

Rabbit in a Mustard Sauce or Lapin à la Moutarde Maison

Having just had a wonderful rabbit dish the other day, I wanted to bring this recipe to the front of the line. There is nothing quite as good as rabbit in whatever manner you wish to present it, as a fricassee which is wonderful or country-style smothered in good old fashioned French mustard, plenty of cream and white wine. I am getting hungry again just writing this down, thank you.

A Rabbit’s Tale

As we all know, back in the 19th Century, this succulent dish use to be called le lapin à la dijonnaise. These days I find there are more rabbit dishes than there are rabbits. Rabbit stew takes me back to those days when, as a child, we would spend our holidays, en famille, at our house in the Brittany countryside, it was colder than… well let’s just say it was pretty cold. But when our delightful housekeeper and cook made her famous rabbit dish it was guaranteed to bring smiles to everyone and we quickly forget about our then rather Spartan surroundings and the cold and damp. I will spare you the details of the early morning execution of said “wabbit” other than to mention that he didn’t stand a hare of chance of ever being proven innocent. To the sound of a slow drum beat, he was un-ceremoniously marched down the gravel path to the back garden and from there ten paces to ye old apple tree where he was offered his last Gauloise cigarette. The country cook’s weapon of choice was a long, menacing looking, razor sharp kitchen knife with a well-worn handle; it might well have been left from another century perhaps it was brought back by the Knights Templars. The deed was swift and I, ever the lucky one, was offered a now limp rabbit to carry back to the kitchen. Country living at its finest.

One morning over the recent holidays I put on my tweeds (cap included) and work boots and ventured into the field behind the house followed by my good and trusty friend Monsieur Louie who believes himself, like me, to be quite the hunter. He dreams about it and I read about it, so we are experts on this subject. The rabbit is a small-sized animal which means that we manly hunters do not need powerful elephant hunting guns, rather we need a gun that offers accuracy above all else. I won’t bore you with details of the Great White Hunter but I shot at what I thought were rabbits and missed more than a few times (my dog by then had retreated home with his tail intact) leaving me no other option than to present myself, hat in hand, before Marcel my local butcher who grinned and promptly pulled a rabbit out of his hat. Or was it his beret? In any event I had this dish for New Year’s Eve dinner and what a spectacular success!! I chose a great wine from the southern Rhone valley, Chateau Pesquie Terrasses. It was a no brainer selection after all what better than a wine from the part of the country where people live long comfortable lives in the sun in a region where rabbit’s days are numbered.

Rabbit in Mustard Sauce

This recipe (modified) comes from David Tanis, a chef at Chez Panisse in Berkeley, California.

Ingredients:

2 rabbits (about 2 1⁄2 lbs. each),each cut into 6–8 pieces

Kosher salt and freshly ground 
 black pepper, to taste

1⁄2 lb. pancetta or unsmoked bacon, cut into 1⁄4″-thick strips

1 cup of sliced mushrooms

1 1⁄2 cups crème fraîche  **Note: If you do not have any CF use 1/2 cup each of sour cream and whipping cream (for 1 cup) and let stand for 12 hours; or use Mascarpone cheese as an alternative. 

1 cup Dijon mustard

1 – 2 cups white wine

2 tbsp. roughly chopped fresh thyme

2 tbsp. roughly chopped fresh sage

2 tsp. black or yellow mustard seeds, crushed

8 garlic cloves, thinly sliced

4 bay leaves

Serves 8

Directions:

1. Season rabbit generously with salt and pepper and place in a large bowl along with remaining ingredients. Don’t go stingy on the mustard as some of the flavor will get lost in cooking.
2. Mix together with your hands until rabbit pieces are coated. Cover bowl with plastic wrap and let marinate at room temperature for at least 1 hour or overnight in the refrigerator.
3. If rabbit has been chilled, allow it to come to room temperature. Heat oven to 400° and arrange a rack in the middle of oven.
4. Divide rabbit in a single layer between 2 shallow roasting pans and top with any of the remaining marinade.
5. Roast the rabbit, add the wine, turning wabbit once and basting with pan juices occasionally, until the juices have reduced and rabbit is cooked through, about 55 minutes.
6. With 15 minutes left to go on the cooking, add the mushrooms.
7. Set oven to broil and cook until golden brown, about 5 minutes more. Serve rabbit with pan juices.

Serving Suggestions:
Add 8 small Red Potatoes, quartered to the dish mid-way through the cooking cycle that way they will absorb all the delicious juices. Finger-licking good mes amis.

Comme vins, je vous propose:

Chinon Val de Loire

Coteaux du Langedoc

Tardieu-Laurent 2007 Côtes-du-Rhône Villages, Les Becs Fins

Terrasses Chateau Pesquie 2008- Ventoux Rhône Valley

Savigny-les-Beaune Cote de Beaune

Lamb stew from Île-de-France or Navarin Agneau, Île-de-France

I am going on record as being thoroughly sick and tired of the cold weather and the snow and the ice and the chills and my guessing which pile of snow is really my car. It’s one damn thing after another to quote my father. I have formally asked ‘ol man winter to cease and desist. I’m sure I will have about as much luck as I did writing memos to a higher authority, written in long-hand, requesting warmer weather arrive soonest. In the meantime, send limes and plenty of rum. Today, I am trying yet another approach. The particular dish that I have chosen, a navarin is a lamb dish that celebrates the spring harvest. It brings together young, tender lambs together with the first of the new season’s baby vegetables. The operative word here is “spring.”

I am sure that some of you are on the edge of your seats wondering what this French Yankee is up now. And perhaps more importantly why call the damn thing a Navarin d’Agneau when Lamb stew would suffice in DesMoines. Those of you who are culinary sleuths are probably up on the history of this dish but for the others, let me give you something to chew on. The genesis of this dish is interesting, even if not entirely true, as it is believed to be named for a recipe originally produced by the head chef of the French Navy to celebrate the French fleet’s participation in the 1827 battle for Greek independence near Navarino, Pylos.  The chef was probably under some stress realizing that the victory celebration hinged on him making a winning dish. That or his head. A little strained perhaps? Perhaps a juicier story one that entailed treachery and deceit only to end up as lambs to the slaughter. Spring vegetables not included.  

A less exciting explanation and therefore probably one that’s a little closer to the truth is that turnips (or navets) are a harbinger of spring in France and almost always are presented along with the Navarin. The French appreciate navets during this season for their delicious sweet flavor. Supposedly they are one of the oldest cultivated foods and are believed to have originated with the ancient Greeks who would throw them at contestants during great events. Turnip fossils dating back thousands of years have been found in caves in western China. There’s even evidence of prehistoric man-eating raw turnips and then later roasting them. Ancient caves in France are decorated with paintings showing bottles of wine alongside turnips being boiled in clay pots. So if you follow that story, you can make that leap of faith from navet (turnip) to navarin to lamb stew. A turnip or a French victory at sea? You be the judge. 

A certain Vincent Maurisseau of La Ferme de Filbois  in Aufferville tells us that the leg of lamb from Île-de-France comes from a cross between a Rambouillet sheep and an English Dishley breed. It means a line of finicky sheep with lousy French but it also means sheep that are raised quickly, with limited adult supervision, which in turn results in very tender and delicately flavoured meat.Some 15,000 of these lambs are farmed in Île-de-France by around 100 breeders. 

Lamb stew from Île-de-France or Navarin d’Agneau d’Ile-de-France  

You will find that for this dish, the sauce is lighter and less complex than those in the more robust winter casseroles. This broth like sauce is well suited to the subtle flavors of the baby carrots, baby turnips, peas and asparagus tips. Fava beans or haricots verts are optional additions. The most typical accompaniment is boiled new potatoes, tossed in butter and parsley. Some things are NOT optional like wine with this dish so do yourself a favor so I don’t have to come after you.

INGREDIENTS

Preparation: 25 min , Cooking time 1hr45. Serves 4

2 tbsp. butter

1 tbsp. cooking oil

2 lbs. lean lamb shoulder (cut in 2-3 inch pieces, dusted with flour)

1 tbsp. sugar

1 large onion, peeled and chopped

3 cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped

2 tbsp. flour

1 cup dry white wine

4 tomatoes, peeled and chopped

2 tbsp. tomato paste

2 cups chicken broth (homemade, canned or made from cubes)

salt and pepper, to taste

bouquet garni (2 sprigs tyme, 3 sprigs parsley, and 1 bay leaf—tied together)

8 small new potatoes, peeled

8 baby carrots, peeled

8 small turnips, peeled and halved

16 baby boiling onions (peeled) OR 8 large scallions cut in 3 inch pieces

2 cups frozen peas

DIRECTIONS

Pre-heat the oven to 350 F. Heat oil and butter in a skillet over medium-high heat and brown the lamb. Sprinkle with the sugar on both sides and let brown for 2 minutes longer (that will give a nice caramelized touch).

Transfer the lamb to a large oven-proof casserole dish. Reduce the heat to low and add the chopped onion and garlic and cook gently for about 8 minutes. Stir in the flour and cook until lightly colored (stir constantly). Add the wine and tomatoes. Cook for a few minutes, stirring constantly).

Add the chicken broth and stir in the tomato purée. Season with salt and pepper. Bring to a boil and then pour over the meat in the casserole. Add the bouquet garni.

Cover with aluminum foil and bake for 45 minutes. Remove from the oven and add the all the vegetables except the peas. Cover and return to oven and bake for 30 minutes. Add the peas and cook for an additional 15 minutes.

Discard the bouquet garni and serve straight from the casserole with a loaf of crusty French bread. (NOTE: This dish can be made up to 2 days in advance and just reheated. Freezes well.)

ABOUT THOSE WINES

I doubt that could really go wrong paring a wine with this dish. Drink something you enjoy – it’s novel concept.

Beaujolais, Beaujolais region, France

Beaune, Burgundy, France

Bourgueil, Vale de Loire, France

Chateauneuf du Pape, Vallee du Rhone, France

Minervois, Languedoc Roussillon, France

Andalusian-style chicken or Poulet à l’Andalouse

“Bullfighting is the only art in which the artist is in danger of death and in which the degree of brilliance in the performance is left to the fighter’s honor.”

 (Death in the Afternoon, Hemingway 1932)

The Franco-Spanish border is not nearly as difficult or dangerous as it was many years ago when I first attempted it one dark inky night. My guide, Marcel, would take me as far as he could and then hand me over to Luis who would guide me the rest of the way into Spain. I travelled lightly then with rucksack, a wooden canteen and a side arm. The journey took us 4 hours through rough terrain stopping only once and that was to avoid a militia patrol. Luis, my Spanish guide, looked not much older than 16 but he was as adept as any guide I have ever travelled with. The way he effortlessly bounded from rock to rock reminded me of a mountain goat and pausing every so often to look back as if to urge me, “come on papa”, move faster. I struggled from one rock to the next just praying that we would soon reach the end. We made it safely to the farm, my first rendezvous. Eventually I would reach Seville and from there onto Gibraltar. That was then.

I have decided to take a quick trip, crossing the Franco-Spanish border then  heading down the Iberian Peninsula to pay a surprise visit to some dear friends of mine who have been roaming and enjoying the sites, the climate and the delicious local food.  Andalusia was once the center of power in medieval Muslim-dominated Iberia. Besides Muslim or “Moorish” influences, the region’s history and culture have been influenced by the earlier Iberians, Carthaginians, Greeks, Roman Empire, Vandals, Visigoths—all of whom preceded the Muslims—and, of course, the Castilian and other Christian North Iberian nationalities and me. I wasn’t entirely sure where I might find my touring friends, the emails seem to point south, so I fully expected to find them maybe high in the hills, perhaps in a bleached white house overlooking the dazzling Med with a distant view of Gibraltar (aka Gib if you’re one of the local expats) or perhaps I would find them lounging somewhere in Cádiz enjoying a feast of dates, nuts and olives and jugs of cold local white wine.  Behaving like modern day Pasha’s so to speak. No such thing, I was wrong on both counts. Thanks to the miracle of GPS or perhaps it was the surveillance drone I called in, I tracked the happy couple to Sevilla, the capital of Andalusia, where they were just returning from a spectacular bullfight. For dinner, no bull, I decided to cook a local chicken dish and leave to them the task of selecting a few local red and white wines.

Chicken Al-Andalus

Ingredients
1/2 cup flour
1/4 tsp salt
1/8 tsp pepper
1- 3 lb chicken quartered and skinned
1 tbsp olive oil
1 tbsp butter
5 shallots; minced
1/4 cup cognac
5 small tomatoes peeled, seeded and chopped
1 tbsp tarragon minced
1/2 cup vermouth  (or white wine in the absence of any vermouth)
1/2 cup chicken stock
1/2 cup half-and-half
A pinch of red pepper

Directions (serves 4)
In a shallow bowl combine flour salt and pepper.
Coat chicken, shaking off any excess.

Heat the oil and butter in a heavy skillet over med-high heat for 1 minute.

Add chicken and brown evenly approx. 10 minutes.

Remove from heat.

Reduce heat and add shallots to the skillet and cook over low heat for approx 5 minutes.

Add cognac, and cook 2 minutes longer, stirring and scraping up the brown bits.

Medium heat, add the tomatoes and tarragon, then vermouth (or white wine) and chicken stock and reduce by half. Then add half-and-half. Stir to mix thoroughly

Add chicken pieces, cover and cook another 20-25 minutes or until juices run clear.

Chicken Cooked in Riesling Wine or Poulet au Riesling

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Chicken Cooked in Riesling Wine or Poulet au Rieslin

Welcome to Alsace ladies and gentlemen. I am pleased to inform you we are still in France, we have not crossed the border and we are still speaking French, or at least I am and Parisian at that! A while back I happened to be in Strasbourg – une affaire de coeur gone awry – and by the shade of the grand cathedral and the tourist fanfare, I had the most delicious meal with a delighful compagnion that being a perfectly chilled dry Riesling, a Clos Saint-Urbain. For the price of a hefty tip, I walked away with this fantastic recipe.

Chicken in Riesling

(Serves: 4)

Ingredients

6 tablespoons (3 oz/90g) butter

1 chicken, about 3 lb (cut into 6-8 pieces)

2 onions, sliced

1 carrot, sliced

2 garlic cloves, chopped

bouquet garni: 1 bay leaf, 1 thyme sprig, 3 parsley sprigs

1 cup Riesling

2 tablespoons brandy (optional)

8 oz champignons (button mushrooms)

2 egg yolks

3/4 cup cream

salt, fresh ground white pepper

Directions

Melt two-thirds of the butter in a large saucepan that has a cover. Add the chicken and lightly brown (approx. 5 minutes per side) all over then add the onions, carrots, garlic, and bouquet garni, and cook for several minutes.

Pour in the Riesling (Brandy if you so choose), bring to a boil and simmer covered for about 35 minutes, or until chicken is cooked. Note: Some would have you cook it in the oven at 325. Frankly I’m on stove on all of this.

Meanwhile, cut the mushrooms stalks and caps and cook over low heat for 3 to 4 minutes.

When the chicken is cooked, remove it to a serving platter and keep warm. Reduce the cooking juices to half over high heat.

Mix the egg yolks with the cream, and whisk in a little of the hot liquid. Pour the egg yolk mixture into the reduced cooking juices add the mushrooms, and stir over a very low heat until the sauce begins to thicken.

Season to taste. Spoon a little of the sauce over the chicken and surround it with the mushrooms. Serve the remaining sauce separately. Serve with quartered baby red potatoes or perhaps wild rice.

Wine Selection:

If you have four or five grand burning a hole in your pocket, do try the 1938 Wehlener-Zeltinger Riesling Trockenbeerenauslese from the Joh. Jos. Prüm estate. While most of it was drunk before “they” marched in a few bottles are still available on the market. Short of that, here are a couple great Rieslings to consider:

Chateau St. Michelle Riesling 2007 from the Columbia Valley

Cono Sur Vision Riesling ‘Quiltranam’, 2007 from Chile

Helfrich Vin d’Alsace Riesling 2007

Hugel et Fils Alsace Riesling 2005