Showing posts with label Dried Apricots. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dried Apricots. Show all posts

Thursday, December 6, 2018

Cranberry & Cheese Filled Yeasted Coffee Braid



In my previous post I mentioned that I had taught a class aimed at helping the holiday host prepare a bountiful table for overnight/out-of-town guests.  The idea for this class came to mind when I was thinking about one of my own favorite holiday memories. 

For the first decade of my life I lived in the same city as both of my sets of grandparents.  This made seeing everyone for the holidays easy.  I have wonderful memories of that time.  The holidays basically meant getting to spend time with my grandparents…but still being able to sleep in my own bed (an ideal situation for a kid as far as I’m concerned).

Around the time I turned ten my dad was transferred to Minneapolis—which was about 8 hours (by car) away from all of my grandparents.  I don’t think we even considered not making the trip back that first Thanksgiving.  On the Wednesday before Thanksgiving we got in the car sometime in the early afternoon and headed “home.”  About the time we crossed the Minnesota-Iowa border, we ran into some bad weather.  A rain-snow mix that hit at just the right temperature turned the interstate into a sheet of ice.  The roads were of course filled with holiday travelers, and traffic from the border to Des Moines began to move at a crawl…sometimes stopping altogether.  This was in the days before cell phones.  It was a tense situation.  I don’t know if my parents toyed with the idea of spending the night in Des Moines or not, but after calling my Grandmother when we finally made it to Des Moines we decided to press on.  We were assured the storm was mostly north of I-80…and I believe the rest of the drive was uneventful.

When we finally arrived at my Grandmother’s house it was probably past midnight.  As we walked in the door she was just pulling a jam and cheese filled pastry out of the oven.  Looking back I suspect it wasn’t part of her original plan (originally, we would have arrived in time for a late dinner).  But since she would have had another four hours (at least) to wait after we left Des Moines, I’m guessing she decided to bake.  Doing so would provide an activity for her while she waited…and would provide exhausted travelers with a very special treat.  And I will never forget it.  Going from being tired, stiff and a bit chilled to sitting in her warm kitchen, around her table at an hour when I was normally not allowed to be out of bed, eating a sweet pastry with all of the adults (who were so relieved that everyone was safe), was a treat indeed. 


I have no idea if she ever made that pastry again.  I don’t think I have ever come across the recipe in her files.  But when it came to mind recently I remember thinking about what a wonderful hostess—and cook—my grandmother was.  And how good food is one of the best things you can provide for your guests.  The trick of course is to figure out how to provide this without wearing yourself out.  And this is where my class comes in.

I had to include a jam and yeast filled coffee braid in this class.  In looking around for a recipe I found that the most likely candidate was one at King Arthur.  I have adapted it quite a bit to suit my preferences…and also to make it so that a preparations schedule will slide easily into a busy host’s schedule. 

The original recipe is made with a very traditional schedule:  make the dough, let it rise, form the braid, let it rise, then bake.  The rich dough takes a long time to rise and the process from start to finish takes about four hours (not including baking).  This makes it so you either have to make it the day before and serve a day-old breakfast pastry to your guests (not the end of the world…but why not have freshly baked if you can?)…or make it for an afternoon, evening or late night treat (which would have been what my grandmother did). 


But beyond these logistical and timing difficulties, I have to admit that I never make a butter and egg rich dough that has to be rolled out thinly, filled and manipulated with cuts and twists, without giving it a long cold rise in the refrigerator first. Doing this firms up the butter and makes it so the dough is extremely easy to work with.  I learned this the hard way the first time I ever made a Babka.  I couldn’t believe the difference chilling the dough made.  So when I make this dough, I make it at least 8 hours before I want to use it and let it rise very slowly in the refrigerator.  You could even make it two or three days ahead and it would still work just fine.

The second rise, after the dough has been formed, takes an hour.  This too is a bit off-putting for the host.  Personally, I am in the habit of rising early, before the rest of the house, so it would not be a problem for me to get up, pull out the chilled dough, roll the dough and form the braid and then do other things while everyone else is still asleep and I wait for the braid to rise.  But for this dough, I found that I like the result even better if I roll and form the braid and let it rise over night in the fridge.  In the morning, I just pull it out of the refrigerator and set it in a warm place (mostly to take the chill off of the sheet pan) while the oven preheats and then bake.  You don’t have to get up early at all.  The braid will bake in the time it takes to make coffee and tea, set the table…and pull out everything else that you want to serve.  For the non-early riser, this is clearly the best way to go. 

As it turns out, the texture of the loaf that rises for an hour or so at room temperature and the one that rises overnight in the fridge are a bit different.  Both are delicious.  Neither loaf will look like it has done anything like rising—let alone “doubling in size”—when  it is ready for the oven.  The one that proofs at room temperature might have a slightly puffed look…but you have to look closely to see it.  And this one—the one that is allowed to proof at room temperature—will have more the character of a filled loaf of bread….basically slightly sweet, soft bread with a bit of jam and cheese (pretty tasty). 


The one that spends the night in the fridge will have the flatter aspect of a traditional Danish braid and the bread portion will be less prominent…basically more like a jam and cheese pastry.  


As I mentioned above, this latter version is actually the one I prefer.  Since the recipe makes two braids…and once you have made the dough you can make the braids any time you like…you should try both methods and see which one you prefer.

When I made this recipe for my class I filled the braid with a cornstarch thickened commercial jam (like my Grandmother’s).  But when in the week following the class I decided I wanted to have the braid for Sunday breakfast, I made a thick cranberry compote to use instead.  If you have a few minutes to make it, I have to say that this is the way to go.  The bright, tangy cranberry flavor is set off very well by the sweet cream cheese.  It is of course seasonal and festive too.  I am including instructions for both, as well as recipes for a couple of other fillings from Beatrice Ojakangas’s Danish recipe in the book Baking with Julia (a quick berry jam and a compote of dried apricots...both are delicious).

Finally, I have added a drizzle of a simple powdered sugar glaze to the finished and cooled braid.  You can make and serve the braids without adding this, but I think it adds a beautiful finished, appetizing look.  Just the thing to greet your hungry travelers—whether they are coming in the front door after a long day on the road…or crawling out of bed and looking for something to get their day off to a sweet start.      




Cranberry & Cheese Filled Yeasted Coffee Braid

1/4 c. (56 g.) lukewarm water
2 1/4 t. active dry or instant yeast
1/2 c. (121 g.) sour cream
4 T. (56 g.) unsalted butter, sliced 1/4-inch thick and softened
1 large egg
3 c. (360 g.) unbleached all-purpose flour, divided
3 T. (37 g.) sugar
1 t. salt

8-oz. package cream cheese, softened
1/3 c. (67 g.) sugar
Zest of one orange, optional
1/2 t. almond extract or 1 t. vanilla
1 egg yolk

2/3 c. (200 g.) fruit filling (see below)

1 large egg white beaten until frothy with 1 T. cold water
Turbinado or coarse white sparkling sugar, for sprinkling


Place the water in a mixing bowl and scatter in the yeast.  Whisk or stir to dissolve.  Add the remaining ingredients in the order listed, 


adding only 340 grams of the flour and making sure the salt doesn’t touch the yeast-water mixture directly. 


Mix and knead (by hand or mixer fitted with a dough hook) until you have a smooth, velvety dough.  The dough will be very dry at first; resist the urge to add more liquid. It'll come together and smooth out as you knead.  Once the dry ingredients are absorbed (and this only takes a minute or two) the dough may begin to stick.  Use small increments of the extra 20 grams of flour…and the help of your bench scraper…to keep the dough from sticking.  It is unlikely that you will need all of the reserved flour.








Place the dough in a lightly buttered bowl or other container, 


cover with plastic wrap and place in the refrigerator overnight (and up to three or four days). It may or may not look risen when you pull it out to use it.  That's OK.

When you are ready to bake, make the filling: Beat together the cream cheese, sugar, zest (if using), extract and egg yolk.  Set aside.  If the fruit filling is very stiff, give it a stir to smooth it out..

Divide the chilled dough into two pieces. Working with one piece at a time (and keeping the other chilled), flatten/pat/roll it into a 10" x 15" rectangle.  Transfer the rectangle to a piece of parchment paper.




Spread half of the sweetened cream cheese down the center third of the rectangle.  Leave 1/4- to 1/2-inch of dough bare at each end.  



Spread a thin film of the fruit filling over the cream cheese…being careful to not let it drip over the edge of the cream cheese. You will be tempted to add more fruit filling…but don’t.  A third of a cup is plenty. 


Using a pizza cutter (or a sharp knife), cut 12 to 13 slightly slanting lines down each side—angling the cuts from the edge of the filling to the outside edge of the dough.  The cuts should be a generous one inch apart and should start about 1/4- to 1/2-inch away from the edge of the cream cheese.   


Fold the strips of dough over the filling, criss-crossing the strips by alternating a strip from the left with a strip from the right.


Lightly press/pinch at the two ends to seal. 



Transfer the braid to a sheet pan and cover loosely with greased/sprayed plastic wrap.

Repeat the process with the remaining piece of dough.  Transfer the braids to the refrigerator for 8 hours or overnight.  Pull the braids out of the fridge and let them warm up a bit (20 minutes or so) while the oven preheats.  Or, let the braids rise at room temperature for 60 minutes (if you want to bake them the same day you form them). Whether you choose a traditional rise at room temperature or an overnight cold rise, the loaves will not “double in bulk.”   They might look a bit puffy, but that is all.  This is how it should be.

To finish and bake: Brush the egg white/water mixture over the loaves. Sprinkle generously with the coarse sugar.



Bake the coffeecakes in a preheated 375°F oven for 20 to 25 minutes, until they're puffed and golden brown.  The fruit filling and/or cheese might be bubbling or oozing a bit.  This is fine.   Remove the loaves from the oven, and place them on a rack to cool slightly. Serve warm.

Store any leftovers, well-wrapped, in the freezer. To serve, thaw, and then reheat in a 350°F oven, tented with foil, for about 10 minutes.


Notes: 
  • Although you can put both of the loaves on one sheet pan, I find that they bake best on two sheets.  When one is done, just slide the second one into the oven…or bake on separate racks, rotating half way through the baking time.
  • If you like, drizzle the finished braids with a thick glaze made from 1 c. powdered sugar mixed with 1 1/2 T. (or so) of milk.  When drizzled with icing, the loaves also look pretty with a few sliced, toasted almonds sprinkled over (especially if you have used almond extract in the cheese filling).
  • I prefer to make this recipe with a final, overnight, cold rise (rather than a traditional room temperature rise).  The finished loaf isn’t quite as puffy…and looks very much like a traditional Danish when done this way.  It also fits beautifully into a busy schedule.  Just make the dough in the morning of the day before you want to serve.  Put the dough in the fridge.  Then, form the loaf/loaves right before you go to bed.  In the morning, all you have to do is bake and eat/serve.  (But the loaf is delicious either way.)

 
Fruit Fillings

Cranberry-orange (my favorite for the holidays): Place 12 oz. of cranberries in a saucepan with 1 c. sugar and the juice of one orange (about 1/3 c. juice).  Bring to a boil.  Simmer briskly until most of the cranberries have popped and the mixture is thickened—about 6 minutes.  Makes a scant 2 cups thick compote.  Chill before using. 

Dried Apricot:  Place 1 cup of dried apricots in a saucepan with 3/4 cup of water and 1/2 cup of sugar.  Bring to a simmer and cook until the fruit is puffy and any remaining liquid is syrupy (about 15 minutes).  Transfer to the food processor and process to form a coarse purée.  Taste and add more sugar or lemon juice to obtain the desired sweetness.  Add 1/4 t. almond or vanilla extract, if desired.  Chill before using.  Makes about 1 cup fruit purée.

Quick Berry Jam: Place 3 cups of berries (fresh or frozen) in a saucepan with 1 c. sugar and 1 T. lemon juice.  Crush the berries if desired.  Bring to a boil.  Skim off and discard any foam that comes to the surface.  Simmer briskly until thickened—about 8 to 10 minutes (a candy thermometer will read 218° to 220°).  Makes about 1 1/3 cups jam.  Chill before using.  You may also use commercial jam.  If the jam seems drippy or thin, dissolve 3/4 t. cornstarch in a small amount (1 t. or less) of water and stir it into 2/3 cup of the jam before spreading over the cheese.




Monday, January 8, 2018

Chicken with Dried Apricots, Green Olives & Almonds





Over the weekend a friend asked me what kinds of things I was cooking and what I was hungry for right now. We had been discussing my blog…and what I might be posting next. My first thought was that I wasn’t doing too much in the way of cooking at all. There are a lot of reasons for this. I’m tired from the busy season. I’m spending a lot of time catching up with friends (many of whom—including the friend who asked the question—work in my industry and are also coming up for air at the moment). This means I am eating out more than usual. I have also spent the first few days of the year digging myself out from under piles of paperwork and other things that got pushed to the side during the busy season. And I admit that I am plowing through all of this stuff at a rather leisurely pace… By the time dinner rolls around I am relying on the simple…and the tried & true (single ingredient pastas, soups, sandwiches, grain pilafs)—all things that I have already posted…or that are so simple and basic they don’t’ require a recipe.

My next thought was about the things I am truly hungry for this time of year. And it’s probably the same thing most of us are hungry for: rich braises and stews, slow roasts, hearty casseroles, all-day bean soups.... Foods that fill the house all afternoon with their good smells…and then warm you down to your toes when you finally sit down to the table. Foods like this are not difficult, but they do take a bit of advance planning….and my weekend was already well underway when I was having this conversation. 

As I was thinking about all these things, an image popped into my mind—a picture of a Moroccan-inspired chicken dish that I made a few years ago. (It must have been hovering there near the forefront of my mind after all the time I had spent going through some old pictures on my computer….) 



The recipe as I had made it was adapted only very slightly from the original in a winter issue of Martha Stewart Living. It is likely that I chose to make it the first time because it was a perfect intersection of the things I just described: It is simple and easy to make…and at the same time has the feel of the hearty and richly flavored foods I tend to crave during the early days of winter. 

Inspired by my conversation, I made it for dinner last night. I am happy to report that it was just as simple to make as I remembered. If you like Mediterranean flavors, you probably have the apricots, olives, almonds and spices on hand. If you cook regularly, it is also likely you have the carrots, onions and garlic at the ready. You might even have the chicken in your freezer (in which case, this would make a perfect snow day dinner!). As it happened, I did not have any chicken in my freezer, so I stopped on my way home from my coffee date with my friend and got some. And just as I remembered, once the ingredients were assembled, it was ready for the table in no time at all (…or in about an hour and fifteen minutes, to be more exact).

I have to admit that I find it difficult to believe that something that comes together so quickly can have such a rich flavor and unctuous texture. But it does. How great is that? And if you are craving this kind of dish—but just haven’t had the time to invest in a rich braise…or hearty casserole—I highly recommend that you add this one to your menu plans for some evening very soon.  




Chicken with Dried Apricots, Green Olives & Almonds

3 to 4 lbs chicken thighs
Coarse salt and freshly ground pepper 
Olive oil 
1 small red onion, halved and thinly sliced 
2 cloves garlic, sliced
1 lb. carrots, topped, tailed, peeled and cut on a long bias into 3-inch pieces (about 1/2- to 3/4-inch thick)
1 1/2 t. ground ginger 
3/4 t. ground cinnamon 
2 c. low-sodium chicken broth 
Zest of 1 orange
A generous pinch of saffron threads 
3/4 c. whole almonds, lightly toasted
3/4 c. dried apricots, halved crosswise if very large
1/2 c. green olives, pitted
1/2 c. lightly packed cilantro leaves, sliced into a rough chiffonade
Harissa, optional



Season chicken with salt and pepper (if time, do this up 12 to 24 hours ahead, cover loosely and store in the refrigerator). Heat a braiser pan or deep straight-sided skillet over medium-high heat; add enough oil to just coat the bottom of the pan (1 to 2 T.). Add the chicken, skin side down, and brown all over, in batches if necessary to keep from crowding the pan. Regulate the heat as necessary to maintain an active sizzle. This will take about 8 to 10 minutes. Transfer the chicken to a plate and pour off all but a tablespoon or so of fat from the pan. 


Reduce heat to medium; add onion, garlic, and carrots. Season lightly with salt (be careful, the olives will add a lot of salt). Cook, stirring occasionally, until onion is translucent, about 3 minutes. Stir in ginger and cinnamon and cook, stirring, until fragrant, about 30 seconds. 

Stir in broth, orange zest and saffron, scraping up browned bits from bottom of pan. Return chicken and accumulated juices to pan. Add the almonds, apricots and olives. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer, partially covered, until a thermometer inserted in thickest part of the thigh (without touching bone) reads 180 degrees, 30 to 35 minutes. Remove from heat. Taste and correct the seasoning. You may stir the cilantro in, or scatter it over the finished dish. Serve with couscous or rice. Pass harissa if you like. Serves 6 

(Recipe adapted from Martha Stewart Living)







Sunday, October 8, 2017

Fall Fruit Compote of Wine-Poached Pears & Dried Fruits



Occasionally I teach a class on autumn desserts.  It includes a nice variety of classics—filled with fall ingredients—that everyone loves...fruit, chocolate and nut filled tarts, a simple cake (featuring sweet potatoes!), and a light and ethereal bread pudding.  I think everyone expects to like all of these things.  But the sleeper hit of the class is always a simple dish of poached fall fruits.  I'm not sure why (perhaps it conjures images of stewed prunes?), but people are always a bit dubious when they see this recipe in their packet.  Then they taste it....

I have not posted this recipe before because I can't make it for you...thus giving you the opportunity to taste it without going to the effort of making it yourself.  I can only ask you to trust me when I say that this is a seriously elegant and delicious dessert.  It is sweet...but sophisticated—definitely a dessert for grown-ups.  I love it all by itself...with maybe a little bit of mascarpone whipped cream...and perhaps a platter of biscotti


If you have never poached fruit, you should give it a tryit is an easy technique to learn.  I wrote a basics post on how to poach pears (for a tart) a few years ago.  The recipe I'm posting today uses the exact same method to begin.  Then, after the pears are done, the dried fruits are steeped—and plumped—in the poaching liquid.  They add rich flavor and beautiful color. 


Depending on the ripeness of the pears (and thus how long you have to cook them), you may need to reduce the poaching syrup by simmering briefly after all of the fruits are finished.  But be careful not to overdo it.  The final syrup should be a light and fluid nectar—perfect for sipping from a spoon...or for dunking those biscotti

Once you try this recipe, you will want to make it for your friends and family.  If you feel the need to tempt people into sampling it, serve it with a slice of pound cake (everyone loves pound cake).  Any good pound cake will do, but I'm particularly partial to an Italian one—Amor Polenta—that I posted a few years ago.  The almond and cornmeal are a fantastic match for the pears and dried fruits.  You can tell your guests that the fruit is a garnish.  Once they taste it they will realize that in this case the cake is definitely the supporting player...and the fruit is the star of the show. 



Fall Fruit Compote of Wine-Poached Pears & Dried Fruit

1 (750 ml) bottle white wine
3 c. sugar
1 vanilla bean, split and scraped
1 cinnamon stick
3 or 4 whole cloves
3 or 4 strips (3- by 1/2-inch) of lemon zest
3 or 4 strips (3- by 1/2-inch) of orange zest
6 firm but ripe pears, peeled, halved (or quartered) and cored
1 c. dried figs, hard stems trimmed
1 c. dried apricots
3/4 c. pitted prunes
1/2 c. dried tart cherries


In a saucepan large enough to hold all of the pears, combine the wine, 3 c. water, sugar and flavorings.  Bring this to a boil and simmer for 5 minutes.  While the poaching liquid cooks, cut a round of parchment that is slightly larger than the pan and cut a hole in the center (this will act as a "lid" and help keep the fruit fully submerged in the liquid—it is called a cartouche).  

When the syrup is ready, add the pears, press the parchment round to the surface of the liquid, lower the heat and barely simmer until the tip of a knife will go in and out without resistance.  Cooking time varies greatly depending on the ripeness of the pears—start checking after 10 minutes for very ripe pears.  Using a slotted spoon, transfer the pears to a platter. 

Return the poaching liquid to a simmer and add the dried fruits.   Simmer gently until the dried fruits are tender (they will soften and some will swell slightly)—5 to 10 minutes or so. 

Depending on how ripe the pears were the liquid may need to be reduced a bit.  If you would like to reduce the poaching liquid at all, lift out the dried fruits and add them to the plate with the pears.  Return the poaching liquid to the pan and simmer until it has thickened slightly (but no thicker than maple syrup...or a dessert wine). 

Remove the pan from the heat and return the pears and dried fruits to the pan of poaching liquid.  Cool and store the pears and dried fruits in the poaching liquid. 


Serve the compote chilled.  Remove the vanilla bean, cinnamon stick, cloves and zests before serving.  I like to halve the figs lengthwise before serving to expose their lovely interior.  If the prunes and/or apricots are especially large, you might consider halving them as well.

Whether I am serving this as a stand alone dessert—or to accompany a slice of cake—I like to serve it with mascarpone whipped cream sweetened with some of the poaching liquid (see below).

(Recipe adapted from Barefoot Contessa Parties!, by Ina Garten)

Maspcarpone Whipped Cream:  Place 8 oz. of mascarpone in a mixing bowl along with a cup of heavy cream and 1/2 cup of poaching liquid.  Whisk until softly mounding. (To make a smaller—or larger amount—just remember you need 1 T. of poaching liquid for every ounce of mascarpone and ounce of cream.)




Sunday, July 16, 2017

Golden Couscous with Chicken, Carrots, Turnips & Summer Squash

I tend to think of braises and stews as being autumn and winter foods.  But recently as I looked at some of my farmers' market vegetables I realized that I had the makings of a traditional Moroccan-style couscous of chicken and vegetables.  I have always thought it was odd that these stews often feature a combination of what I think of as winter root vegetables (carrots and turnips) and summer squash (or zucchini).  But there they were...young carrots, golden turnips and yellow squash...all in my market basket at the same moment.  And I have to admit that as we sat down to our hot, fragrant and spicy bowl of stew and couscous on a recent rather sultry evening, the food seemed to be a perfect (although unusual for me) match for the day. 



I should say up front that the dish I prepared is by no means an authentic couscous.  An authentic couscous would use dried (as opposed to canned) chickpeas...and it would definitely not use our ubiquitous instant/pre-steamed couscous.  A true Moroccan...or Algerian....couscous is prepared in a special pot called a couscoussière.  The pot is constructed like a double boiler-style steamer.  The bottom portion is a typical stewing pot and the top piece has a perforated bottom so that the couscous (a dried granular, semolina pasta) can steam over the fragrant stew—taking on the perfume of the spices in the stew as it cooks.  The cooking process takes two or three hours and twice during that time the couscous is turned out onto a large pan (like a paella pan) so that it can be hand "fluffed."  I had the pleasure of participating in the making of a traditional Algerian couscous many years ago while I was working in France.  It took the better part of an afternoon, and although I enjoyed myself immensely, when I want to put dinner on the table here at home, I am grateful for our pre-steamed couscous—which only takes about 10 minutes to make (and is pretty much all that one finds at American grocery stores).

The preparation of the "stew" portion of the couscous follows all of the basic rules of braising and stewing.  I wrote a stewing basics post several years ago that goes into all the pertinent details.  If you are a novice to stewing...or aren't happy with the way your stews turn out...you might take a few moments to read that post.  A well made stew or braise is, I think, one of the finest foods around.


When I made our stew, I chose to use all chicken drumsticks.  If you don't like to eat with your hands, drumsticks aren't the best choice.  But if you don't mind, they are perfect...the one end making a convenient little handle.  Just make sure you provide plenty of napkins...or even finger bowls of water.  You can also make it with thighs—which are a bit easier to tackle with knife and fork...or are easily deboned in the kitchen so that people don't have to wrestle with bones at the table at all.  I would discourage the use of white meat for this stew.  You must pull the white meat out when it is just cooked or it will be tough and dry.  The vegetables will then have to go on cooking until they are done.  The vegetables take 50 minutes to an hour to cook.  The dark meat pieces are a perfect match since they will cook to beautiful, flavorful tenderness in just this amount of time.



Finally, the choice of vegetable varieties is up to you.  I happened to bring home some lovely Gold Ball turnips along with my carrots and yellow squash.  The result—when combined with the saffron and turmericwas what I thought was a fantastically beautiful study in yellows, oranges and golds.  But you can obviously make this dish with regular white turnips.  And even though I have lumped the carrots and turnips together in the ingredient list, I would encourage you to use roughly an equal quantity of each.  The stew will be a bit sweet and one dimensional without the turnips..and will tend towards bitterness without the balance of the carrots.  You may also use regular old zucchini instead of the yellow squash.  In the fall, you could make this dish with winter—instead of summer—squash.  Add winter squash 10 minutes after the root vegetables have been simmering for 10 minutes.




Chicken Braised with Carrots, Turnips and Summer Squash

2 1/2 to 3 lbs. chicken drumsticks, thighs or a combination
2 T. olive oil, divided
1 1/2 T. butter
1 1/4 lb. carrots and turnips—in any combination that you prefer (see post)—trimmed and peeled
10 to 12 oz. summer squash or zucchini
1 large onion (12 oz.), diced
3 to 4 cloves garlic, minced
1 2-inch piece cinnamon stick
1/2 t. (slightly mounded) ground ginger
1/4 t. (slightly mounded) turmeric
2 c. chicken stock or no-salt canned chicken broth
Generous pinch of saffron, crumbled
1 can chickpeas, drained and rinsed
1/2 T. freshly squeezed lemon juice...more or less as needed
1/3 c. finely sliced flat leaf parsley
1/3 c. finely sliced cilantro
2 T. Harissa (more or less, to taste)—purchased, or make your own (recipe below)



Season the chicken generously with salt and pepper.  In a large braising pan (wide enough to hold all the chicken and deep enough to accommodate all of the chicken and vegetables) set over moderate heat melt the butter in 1 T. of the olive oil.  When the butter is melted, increase the heat.  When the butter foam subsides, add the chicken (skin side down if using thighs).  Carefully brown the chicken until the fat is rendered and the skin is crisp and golden.  Regulate the heat as necessary to maintain and active sizzle without scorching the chicken.  Drumsticks will need to be carefully rotated and will take longer—perhaps 20 to 25 minutes.  Thighs will primarily need to be browned on the skin side with only a quick surface sear on the side without skin and will take less time. 


While the chicken browns, cut the vegetables.  Cut the carrots on a short diagonal into 3/4- to 1-inch chunks.  Cut the turnips into a rough 3/4- to 1-inch dice.  Trim the ends away from the squash.  Cut into 1-inch chunks. 



Remove the browned chicken pieces to a plate.  Add the onions to the pan along with a pinch of salt (and more olive oil if the pan seems dry).  Cook the onions over moderate heat—reducing the heat if they onions start to brown too much—until quite soft...15 minutes or longer, if necessary.  Add the garlic, cinnamon stick, ginger and turmeric and cook until fragrant (about a minute).  




Add the broth and the browned chicken (along with any juices that have been released as the chicken sits) to the pan.  Bring to a simmer.  Crumble in the saffron and season with 3/4 t. kosher salt (less if you have used salted broth).  Add the carrots and turnips and bring to a simmer.  Cover with a tight fitting lid and simmer gently for 20 minutes.  Add the squash...making sure all the vegetables are submerged in the broth...return to a simmer, cover and cook another 20 minutes.  Add the chickpeas, cover and continue to simmer until the vegetables and chicken are tender—another 10 to 20 minutes.  Taste and correct the seasoning.  If the dish seems very sweet...or one dimensional...add a squeeze of lemon.  

Serve with cilantro and parsley scattered over.  Pass Harissa separately so each diner can drizzle it on to taste (or...if you prefer...and you know that everyone will enjoy the heat of Harissa, stir 2 T. of Harissa into the broth prior to serving).  Serve accompanied by Apricot & Pistachio Couscous.

Serves 4 to 6.

Apricot & Pistachio Couscous

1 c. couscous
3/4 t. kosher salt
1/2 c. sliced dried apricots (75 grams)
2 T. unsalted butter
1 1/4 c. water
1/2 c. pistachios, toasted and coarsely chopped
1/4 t. cinnamon

Place the couscous in a medium sized bowl.  Add the salt and apricots and toss to combine.  Cut the butter into chunks and scatter over the surface.  Bring the water to a boil and pour over, swirling the bowl gently to make sure the water penetrates all of the couscous.  Cover tightly with plastic wrap and let stand for 10 minutes.  Uncover, add the pistachios and cinnamon and fluff with a fork.  Taste and correct the seasoning.


Harissa

1 t. cumin seed
1/2 t. coriander seed
1/2 t. caraway seed
4 hot red dried chiles (I use chile de árbol)—about 2 inches in length, stemmed and seeded or not...as you prefer...and rough chopped
2 cloves peeled garlic
3/4 t. coarse salt, or to taste
1 medium red bell pepper—roasted, peeled, and chopped coarse
1 t. tomato paste
1 T. olive oil

Toast whole spices and chiles in a dry skillet until fragrant, then cool.

With an electric spice grinder, a cleaned coffee grinder, or a mortar and pestle, grind seeds and chiles fine. Transfer ground spices to a small food processor and add garlic and salt.  Grind mixture to a paste.  Add roasted pepper, tomato paste, and oil and process until smooth.

The harissa will keep, covered in a jar in the refrigerator, for weeks. It is HOT, savory and delicious.  Serve as a condiment with couscous and tagine. Makes 1/2 cup.

Notes: 
  • I use a rounded measure for each of the spices...and I remove the seeds from half of the chiles. 
  • If using a spice or coffee grinder to grind the spices and chiles, let the grinder sit for a moment or two before opening to allow the spices to settle. If you open it right away some of the spices and more significantly some of the chiles will be airborne—which will irritate your eyes and nose. 

(Harissa recipe courtesy of my friend Chef Nancy Stark)