Whole Chicken

A colorful array of garnishes offer a fresh contrast to this bold, smoky chicken soup from Nashville's Mas Tacos Por Favor.

My translation of one of Mom’s great recipes, this dish quickly became a favorite among the regulars at my restaurant Rendezvous du Monde. Sumac is a spice used in marinades and salads throughout the Middle East. It has a tangy, citrusy flavor and adds a beautiful pinkish hue to the chicken. It’s worth seeking out sumac, but if you can’t find it, the recipe will still be delicious. Serve with buttered couscous or grilled country bread drizzled with the pan juices.

Caramelized onions, carrots, and a pinch of sugar give this braise a subtle sweetness, with cider vinegar adding balance. In the end, the chicken and vegetables are cloaked in a luscious, light pan sauce derived from the reduced pan juices. Serve with Dirty Rice with Fennel (page 102) or with plain steamed rice or boiled potatoes. (See photo on page 103.)

Chef Danielle Custer, who attended the 1997 Workshop, devised this modified potpie to use leftover Thanksgiving turkey. She wanted to make a version of the freezer-case classic but without the traditional bottom crust or the peas. Brian has added a California touch: asparagus from the winery garden, transforming the modest all-American potpie into a dish suitable for guests. Tender drop biscuits scented with chives take the place of a pastry crust.

This recipe calls for roasting two chickens in the same pan: Serve one bird and half the potatoes as a meal for four, and save the rest for the recipes on the following page. If cooking only one chicken, simply reduce the ingredients by half.

MAKING CHICKEN STOCK is one of the easiest things in the world; toss the ingredients in a pot and let it simmer while you do something else. After trying dozens of recipes, I settled on this one, which makes a pot of stock and a poached chicken for dinner or lunch the next day. Crunchy Chicken and Rice Salad (page 53), The Big Omelet (page 210), Chicken Salad with Corn and Cilantro (page 51), and Chicken-Avocado Salad (page 49) are delicious ways to enjoy the poached chicken. Browning the vegetables increases the flavor of the stock and lends a nice golden color. Adding wine enriches the flavor while deglazing the pan.

THIS RECIPE IS AKIN TO A HOMEMADE ROTISSERIE CHICKEN without the hassle. Use the lime marinade below as a base recipe; feel free to add more fresh herbs, other citrus fruit, shallots, or ginger.

WHY IT’S LIGHT Baking the lightly breaded pieces on a wire rack results in “fried” chicken that is lower in fat and calories; removing the skin before cooking also helps. For spicier chicken, add a few drops of hot sauce to the buttermilk marinade.

I like to roast a chicken with nothing more than a few herbs and seasonings. It is always satisfying, and the pan juices make a perfect sauce for the cooked bird.

Thomas likes to roast chicken and vegetables together in what he calls one-pot cooking. The vegetables make a bed for the chicken and prop it up so that it browns nicely, and the juices from the roasting bird permeate through the vegetables that caramelize on the bottom of the pot. He also removes the wishbone before cooking to make carving the roasted bird easier.

Not only is homemade stock easy to make and economical, but it also tastes better than any you can buy. I always like to have a quart of fresh stock on hand—or in the freezer—because then I know I have the makings of many a meal, notably a soup of seasonal vegetables. A whole chicken makes the most flavorful stock; otherwise, the meatier the chicken parts you use, the better. Sometimes I cut off the breasts of a chicken to save for another meal, and make stock with the rest of the bird. Whenever you roast a chicken, freeze the carcass to save for making stock; add it along with the other chicken parts.

There was always a roast chicken in our fridge when I was growing up—but I’d be lying if I said my mom cooked it. There was a wonderful rotisserie place a few blocks from my house and they would deliver a succulent roast chicken, fresh salsa, homemade tortillas, and frijoles charros (like the frijoles on page 155 but with tons of bacon in the mix). We’d all stand around the kitchen table and make soft tacos, adding a few slices of avocado. We used leftovers for chicken salad, flautas (rolled up and fried chicken tacos), or tostadas (fried tortillas spread with refried beans, topped with shredded chicken, shredded iceberg lettuce, crema, salsa, avocado slices, and, in my house, a drizzle of olive oil and red wine vinegar). This recipe is so easy and yields such a flavorful, succulent chicken that I doubt any rotisserie place in your neighborhood can rival it. And I doubt you’ll have leftovers. But if you do, go to town with tortillas, beans, avocado, and any of the salsas in this book and make tacos.

This traditional Chinese dish is simple to make: You boil the soy and wine along with some water, ginger, and crushed sugar and add star anise and scallion for flavor. The chicken is boiled too—not simmered, really boiled—but only for ten minutes; it finishes cooking in the liquid with the heat turned off. There are unusual but inexpensive ingredients that make this dish slightly better: mushroom-flavored soy sauce, which is dark and heavy; yellow rock sugar, a not-especially-sweet, lumpy sugar that must be broken up with a hammer before use; and mei kuei lu chiew, or “rose wine,” a floral wine that smells like rose water and costs two bucks a bottle. But don’t knock yourself out looking for any of these—I give substitutions in the recipe. But if you can easily acquire them, do, because this sauce can be used time and again, as long as you freeze it between uses (or refrigerate it and bring it to a rolling boil every few days) and top up the liquids now and then.

Sauteed chicken should be crisp, moist, and flavorful, and you can accomplish this easily. Use a large skillet, or two smaller ones, because crowding the chicken pieces prevents them from browning. There should be sufficient room in the skillet so that the pieces barely touch each other, and they should certainly not overlap. This recipe contains no added fat—the bird provides plenty of its own—so the skillet should be nonstick, or at least well seasoned.

A French peasant classic, popularized internationally by the great Paul Bocuse. My version is leaner; for something approaching the glorious original, see the variation. Bread is a must, with salad to follow.

A standard braised chicken, with a not-so-standard tart fruit sauce whose acidity cuts through the richness of the meat to make a dish that is always a surprising hit. The sauce can also be used with roast chicken or, for that matter, pork or turkey. Any of these can be served with Kasha (page 528) or any other simple grain dish, and a salad or vegetable.

The pairing of sweet dried-fruit sauce with poultry or pork is common not only throughout Eastern Europe but in North Africa, the Middle East, and parts of Western Europe as well. To prevent the dish from being too sweet, it’s important to add a little vinegar or lemon juice. The easiest way to “chop” dried apricots—which can be quite sticky—is with scissors. Serve with a simple pilaf (page 513).

Boiled potatoes and sour cream are a classic Eastern European combination, but this recipe takes the idea a step further to produce a rich, full-flavored main course that is especially great in winter. Serve with a light salad and rice or crisp bread.

My version of an old-fashioned French recipe, with a little corner cutting. If you ever come across an old, tough chicken, this is the place to use it; increase the cooking time as necessary until the bird becomes tender. If you use one of our typical chickens, it’s actually a pretty quick recipe to prepare. Use a decent but not too expensive red wine. Pearl onions are quite nice here, even frozen ones. If you start with fresh ones, however, which are best, drop them into boiling water for 30 to 60 seconds to make peeling (much) easier. The French would serve crusty bread with this, and you couldn’t do any better.