One-Skillet Dinner: Chicken With Napa Cabbage and Bacon

This is basically a riff off the Lettuce Chicken recipe with a couple of variations—most salient, the use of—wait for it—Napa cabbage in lieu of lettuce. It is a quick (~30 minutes) one-dish weeknight supper, and while I generally consider “low-carb” to be a pejorative, rather than a positive term, it is that too, if you’re into that sort of thing.

I laid about 7 strips of bacon to cook on medium-low in a large skillet. As it did, I chopped about 1 ½ pounds of boneless, skinless chicken breasts (slicing through the center to halve the thickness, then once length-wise, then 3-4 times width-wise) into pieces approximately the dimensions of my thumbs (mind you, I am a 5'3" woman, so don’t necessarily base this on your own thumbs—I’d say to think of the orange man with his tiny hands on the button, but you might lose your appetite) and dredged them in flour seasoned with kosher salt, garlic powder, and dried herbs.

I set the bacon on a piece of cardboard (or use a brown paper bag or paper towels) to drain the grease, then poured the bacon grease from the pan, leaving some residue. I turned the heat to low to melt 2 TBSP butter, returned it to medium, and nestled the chicken into the pan piece by piece, shaking off the excess flour. I cooked until golden brown on bottom (meanwhile chopping 1/2 a Napa cabbage head, cored, into roughly chewing-gum-stick-sized strips), then flipped and cooked the other side to match, and then removed the chicken to a plate.

I added another 1 TBSP butter to the pan, tossed in the cabbage, sprinkled with kosher salt, and tossed with tongs; after a few minutes I splashed in a bottlecap full of cider vinegar, tossed again, and covered the pan. I chopped the bacon loosely. After the cabbage had cooked a couple minutes (leafy ends of cabbage should be wilty but not mushy; base ends should have a bit of give but still be crisp), add back the chicken and bacon plus a sprinkling of fresh thyme leaves, toss to mix, re-cover, lower heat to medium-low, and cook a couple more minutes.

Serve by itself or with rice (*cough*perhaps of the a-Roni variety*cough*).

Spinach-Cheese Crepes With Bacon

Gentle reader, remember how I told you that I made spinach-cheese sauce … and that I would tell you what I did with it … and that it would involve bacon? Well, let this post go on the record as proof that I do not lie to you.

This crepe main dish is the latest episode in my ongoing quest to negate any and all health benefits involved in eating green vegetables. Yes, I actually took spinach and mushrooms and made them as cholesterolicious as a croque monsieur. Look, I had some bits of Swiss and some other sharp cheese that was getting crusty around the edges, so what else COULD I do? As the French, who invented crepes and cheesy sauces (I think) would say, je ne regrette rien. (That’s French for “sorry, not sorry.”)

I premade the sauce by cooking some bacon on medium until tender, not crispy, in a saucepot, and draining off the grease but leaving the wee brown bits. I then added half a stick of butter and once melted and bubbly, stirred in a chopped half shallot and 4 mushrooms sliced thin, with those slices then halved.

Bacon-Wrapped Chicken Breasts With Roast Brussels-Parsnip Hash

This is a quick and easy weeknight meal that can be cooked all on one foil-lined baking sheet for easy cleanup. Both my man and my 26-year-old adopted son inhaled it in a hush reminiscent of the Silence of the Lamb (well, my adopted son did not have any of the veg, obvi. As I type this, he is balancing out the protein with a bowl of Cookie Crisp).

I took two boneless, skinless chicken breasts and sliced them in half, pounded them thin (you can use the bottom of a frying pan if you don’t have a meat-tenderizing hoocher), and marinated them overnight in a mix of olive oil, salt, thyme, Dijon mustard (I’m really working the packets from the cafeteria, gentle reader), and a bit of dried sage.

The next night, I preheated the oven to 400°, lined aforementioned baking sheet with foil, and wrapped a slice of bacon around each of the four pieces of chicken. Full disclosure: I didn’t have a baking sheet large enough to fit the veg as well, so I popped this into the oven and prepped another foil-lined sheet for the hash.

One-Pan Pork-Sausage-Cabbage Saute (a.k.a. Pseudo-Choucroute)

This dish, inspired by the fact that I had in the fridge half a cabbage, half a red onion, some Dijon mustard packets from the cafeteria at work (because, gentle reader, I am now gainfully employed!), and three sausages of different types left over from dinner at a German restaurant (where I could afford to eat, because I am now gainfully employed!), is kind of like an Ignorant American Fusion take on choucroute—except that uses sauerkraut, which is a bit much. It’s very easy and quick and takes only, as you may have gathered from the post title, one pan. Even factoring in the time it took to grocery-shop for the pork chops, I had everything ready within about an hour of returning from my place of gainful employment. (Did I mention I am now gainfully employed, gentle reader?)

This would serve 3 or 4 people, but of course I made it for 2. There were leftovers. Lots of leftovers. Sandwiches will be had.

Start by melting 2-3 Tbsp. butter and a splash of olive oil over medium heat in a large wide pan, then adding 3 packets of Dijon mustard, about 1 Tbsp kosher salt, pinches of cumin and paprika, and a very wee pinch of cinnamon (these spices are negotiable).

Drop in 2 to 2 ½ pounds of thin-cut bone in pork chops (about 4 big chops), turn the heat up to medium-high, and brown on both sides.

Spicy Carrot Bisque

Gentle reader, last weekend my friend Martie overbought at the Grand Army Plaza greenmarket—as one does, because everything looks so exciting—and since she was going on a trip, she had me over for a delicious dinner and sent me home with produce that I promised to give a good home. (There was also some amazing cheese that does not figure into this post, but I felt I should acknowledge it.)

There were 4 thick stubby carrots that I thought would work well in soup form, especially if given a little heat, in this cold weather. Also, I too had some excess in my fridge, in the form of 3 containers of sour cream, because whenever I go to the store I forget whether I have sour cream in the fridge and I buy more. So, I made this REALLY delicious bisque.

Melt ½ stick butter in a saucepan and add ½ yellow onion, chopped. Cook over medium heat, stirring.

When softened slightly, add carrots, cut into half-coin shapes, and sprinkle with kosher salt.

Slow-Cooker Pork Ramen, Ignorant American Style

Gentle reader, I do NOT love a rainy night. Not when it’s raining, like, buckets. (Although it is exciting when the storm drains on my street are clogged by litter and the street floods and I can legitimately say I live on waterfront property.)

But when life gives you rain, you make comfort food. So I perused a few slow-cooker pork ramen recipes online and then, as is my wont, ignored like 90% of their instructions and mashed up the rest according to my own whim.

Adventures in Semi-Homemade Ignorant American Fusion Slow Cooking: Korma Is Not a Bitch

Gentle reader, I’m not gonna lie: I have not been employed full-time for some time. (What, how did you think I made time to suddenly and vociferously resurrect this blog?) And while I was extremely, extraordinarily grateful to have scored a week’s in-house freelance assignment in Manhattan, I was unprepared to be thrown back into the cowpen of personal-space violation that is the C-train morning commute. (Pro tip: Ladies of the C train, if you have ever lamented aloud to your significant other that you’d like to spoon more often, BE MORE SPECIFIC about whom you'd like to spoon with, because if you don’t, all I have to say is, BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR.) Mind you, this was morning time I would ordinarily spend Instagramming my breakfast while watching "In the Papers" on NY1, then observing the progress of Jamie Shupak's baby bump, then wondering just how drunk everyone on the Today show is, then maybe throwing some stuff in the slow cooker, then maybe going back to bed until like 11. Okay, fine, noon.

Anyhoo. I determined to still make at least a couple of weeknight dinners in the course of the week, even though I would probably not be able to get home before 7PM, given the bashful C train's tendency to wait for FOUR FREAKING A TRAINS TO GO BY before it works up the courage to pull up into the station.

But oh right, the slow cooker—that part of my morning ritual could actually carry over! This, I realized, would be a good opportunity to continue evolving my slow-cooking skills, which I will definitely need to rely heavily on if I am ever again gainfully employed full-time. I resolved to purchase a jar of premade Indian sauce, slather it on a chicken, and call it a day before starting my day. I figured, hey, if the semi-homemade approach is good enough for the plucky unofficial First Lady of New York, Sandra Lee, it’s good enough for me.

I also thought that leftover chicken could be used for lunches, because another traumatic memory that came rushing back this week was HOW FREAKING MUCH A MEASLY SOGGY SANDWICH COSTS IN MANHATTAN! (Don’t get me started on what happens if you want a salad. Let’s just say it’s a good thing that I never want a salad.)

Chicken-Fusilli-Onion Soup

Okay, fine, gentle reader, you got me. Obviously I could have just called this recipe chicken noodle soup. But listen, me and chicken noodle soup have—no pun intended—beef. I resent the hegemony of chicken noodle soup at every deli in New York. It always seems to have a seat at the table (or rather, beside the buffet table), and I think that is unfair to the marginalized and more creamy and delicious soups such as broccoli-cheddar and cream of cauliflower. Chicken noodle is to soups as the 1% are to the economy: Disproportionally privileged in a society that calls itself a democracy…or a deli, or whatever. The analogy isn’t that sound. The point is, it pisses me off.

Anyhoo. Chicken and noodles in broth do have their medicinal purpose in cold January weather. Having embraced my mission to fill my boyfriend’s thermos at ungodly hours (that was not the weird innuendo that it came off as; please follow this link for clarification), I made him this soup. Okay, fine, it was not such a healthful version.

Ignorant American Fusion: Chorizo-Cheddar-Chile Lasagna

I know what you’re thinking just reading the post title, gentle reader: That sounds like something that would be on the menu at Chili’s. Well, fine, maybe it would—but at least I’m not killing your buzz by printing the calorie count on a menu, okay?

This weeknight meal (about 30 minutes start to finish; could easily be prepped in advance and reheated covered in foil) was inspired by my lack of motivation to go to the grocery store. In the fridge, I had a 4-pack of Goya chorizo, a 4-oz. can of mild diced green chiles, an 8-oz. package of cream cheese, a block of jalapeno jack, and the last gasp of a bunch of cilantro. In my cupboard, I had some lasagna noodles—which was a small miracle considering that last week I nearly had to be escorted out of the Key Foods after I pointed out to the woman ringing up my groceries that the packages were on sale two-for-one, which she summarily denied, and after I stormed into the pasta aisle and returned with the sale card, she looked at it and goes, “No, it’s not two for one. It says buy one, get one free.” I SWEAR TO GOD, gentle reader. I was like, HOLD MY EARRINGS.

Anyhoo. Although I was in no mood to return to said Key Foods, the two aforementioned cheeses were clearly not adequate for a lasagna, so I got a half pound of sliced cheddar at the Brooklyn Sub on Bergen just off Washington (next to the liquor store where you play a decidedly less titillating variant of Spin the Bottle by putting your purchase into the bulletproof-glass Lazy Susan). Gentle reader, I highly recommend Brooklyn Sub as a place to purchase your deli meats and cheeses. It has a great selection; the staff is super nice; and it is where I first learned of the existence of chipotle Gouda, so it has a special place in my heart—and also, the guy with the ponytail is the most dextrous deli slicer ever, so do not be put off by his ponytail, because he is a true professional, and none of that hair is going to end up in your food, trust.

Anyhoo x2. I got half a pound of sliced cheddar. Okay, now here’s the actual recipe...

Leftovers Love: Beef-Vegetable Soup

Gentle reader, as I have previously expressed, I am very grateful for the fact that I met the man of my dreams in an otherwise dismal 2016. I am also grateful that my mother gladly welcomed him into our family Chrismukkah celebration and gifted him with much-needed cold-weather items such as warm socks, a sweater ... and a lovely metal thermos (below) whose surface proudly declares “The adventure begins!” (It appears from the graphic that the purveyors expect you to paddle a canoe through the thermos, but I'm not buying it.)

Anyhoo. Christmas morning. “For soup, Davy!” my mother crowed. “Katherine will make you soup for lunch! The soup will stay warm!” And my man was all like, “Great! I can dip the sandwiches she makes me into the soup!” And I was all like, uh, whuuut? I did not sign off on this.

Mind you, he gets up before 5 AM to go to work, God love him, and in January it is pitch-dark and damn cold. I am happy to make the effort to pack him a sandwich and chips the night before, then go to bed exhausted from the effort, eventually rising at the crack of noon.

But soup? Dude. Even if I make that the night before, I have to heat it up in real time. As far as I could tell on Christmas morning, that was the true adventure of which the thermos spoke. And it was now my conscripted duty to embark on it.

I mean, I do like a good adventure—as long as it involves food, and not getting up before noon...

Ignorant American Fusion: Chicken Tikka Masala

Photo of Minar buffet via Midtown Lunch

Happy New Year!

Speaking of New Year's... Back when I worked in Times Square (cut to Marlon Brando hissing “The horror... the horror...”), one of the few bright lunch spots in the area was an Indian take-out joint called Minar, at 46th just off Broadway. (There was also Sophie's Cuban Cuisine on 45th between 5th and 6th, and an exellent biryani cart at 44th off 6th, where a disheveled and disoriented Pauly Shore once, moments after devouring a hot dog from the adjacent street cart, snagged the chicken kati roll I had ordered, but that’s another story.) (Well, actually, that’s the whole story. The only postscript is that now I see why they used to call him the Weasel.)

Anyhoo, at Minar, I always got the chicken tikka masala. It's amazingly delicious, although it costs $10 for an 8-oz. container with like 4 or 5 pieces of chicken floating in the amazingly rich and delicious sauce. Everything is out buffet-style, so it's a very quick grab-and-go lunch (although you can eat in, it's not the most ambiancey spot). You can get your meal with rice or naan, and if you select the latter, the woman behind the counter will turn toward the kitchen and yell “NAAN TO GO!!!,” and you will promptly begin salivating like a Pavlov dog. Damn, that is some good naan. It's a huge fluffy disc with crispy bubbles, all nice and warm and soft. You dip it in the sauce to sop up every drop after you've finished those measly 4 pieces of chicken.

Sadly, I do not know how to make that naan. (Sorry, gentle readers, for being a naan-tease.) But I did figure out a super-easy Ignorant American Fusion hack for the tikka masala, and you can feed dinner to 3 to 4 people with this chicken dish for the amount of money it would take one luncher in midtown to consume those 4 or 5 floating pieces.

Adventures in Slow Cooking, Part II: Cream-of-Mushroom Chicken With Broccoli

Gentle reader, for my second-ever foray into slow-cooker cooking, I had the urge to go old-school-Americana with that classic creamy combo of chicken and Campbell’s canned cream of mushroom soup. (I have a perverse taste for this, as evidenced by the Company Chicken recipe.) I checked out a few recipes online, and they were all pretty similar—as Andy Warhol could’ve told you, Campbell’s soup cans do not really lend themselves to variation. I settled on a pretty simple take on it. You just dump all of the following into the cooker:

Sayadia (Saya-whata?)

Hey y'all!

 

Hope everyone is having a rip-roaring birthday celebration for good old 'Murica. Being the increcibly lucky lady that I am, I headed up to Cape Cod a few days ago to spend some time with my family, and got to participate in one of my favorite past times- Fishing! Not sure if fishing is the most patriotic activity, but it's Cape Cod and it's a day on a boat, who can say no to that? It wasn't the most productive day of fishing, but we caught 1 big one, and when it comes to dinner, that's all that matters, amiright?

 

Roasted Broccoli With Panko and Parmesan

Yay for Memorial Day weekend, the start of the summer season!

Now, everyone knows that if you go out in the sun at the start of the summer season, you’ve got to build up your sun tolerance and gradually establish a base tan—if you go from an entire winter indoors to an entire day in the sun, you will get badly burned. Well, gentle reader, this fail happened to me over Memorial Day weekend, except with meat. Basically, I got carried away by grilled-meat excitement at the start of BBQ season (including one of Miss Alyce’s lovely rooftop affairs) and did not consume a single other food group (unless you count beer) for two days. It turns out that’s a bit much even for a carnivore like me. This is why I, of all people, came to prepare roasted broccoli as a one-dish meal.

I brought home a nice bunch of broccoli purchased from my new boyfriend Mr. Melon, and preheated the oven to 425°. (This would be the silver lining of the temperature vacillating 20 degrees every other day lately—it most certainly doesn’t feel like the start of summer right now.) I trimmed the bottoms off 4 of the broccoli stems, peeled the fibrous outer layer of skin off the stalks, and sliced each into quarters.

Roast Sausage With Brussels Sprouts and Sweet Potato

Gentle reader, I have already shared with you how every autumn, my grief at the passing of summer is tempered only by reminding myself of fall’s pleasures, including squashes, soups, pie, and the kickoff of the New York Rangers hockey season. Well, this year, thanks to the greedy bastards at the NHL and their lockout, I DON’T EVEN GET TO WATCH HOCKEY AND OMG PEOPLE THIS IS CLEARLY HENRIK LUNDQVIST’S YEAR TO FINALLY GET THE CUP FOR GOD’S SAKES AND THIS IS SO NOT OKAY, CAN WE PLEASE FIX THIS ASAP!!!!!!!! Ahem…so, my point is, I must seek consolation solely in autumn comfort foods.

Toward that end, I recently prepared a hearty and satisfying one-dish meal featuring Brussels sprouts—reviled during childhood, when my mom used to steam them whole, but beloved ever since I discovered them in sliced, roasted, caramelized form. Since it’s low-maintenance in terms of prep and cleanup, I often make this dinner for just myself using my trusty Le Creuset gratin pan (thanks, Mom—it made up for all those steamed Brussels sprouts!). But you could also multiply these proportions to feed a family or a crowd, cooking everything in a roasting pan or on a foil-lined baking sheet.

The below recipe should serve 2 people; if you’re both big eaters, add a loaf of crusty bread and maybe a green salad to round out the meal. Depending what sausage you use, this can be delicious with red or white wine or with beer.

Leftovers Love: Brisket and Black Beans Over Farfalle With Avocado

Oftentimes, the thought of reheating an unfinished restaurant meal at home is only slightly more appetizing the thought of than regurgitating the part you did finish. Sloshing around in its to-go container, your perfectly plated entrée invariably gets caught in a landslide of crap and is no longer enticing. But I’m a believer in extricating the protein from said landslide and giving it a new life as a supporting player in a whole new dish.

This simple meal is effectively just a pseudo-Mexican spin on pork and beans, but I think it’s worth chronicling because it’s a good illustration of two of our core BGC philosophies: (1) There’s always a good meal waiting in your kitchen if you keep the right staples on hand, and (2) There’s always something interesting to do with leftovers. Also, it was really quite delicious. And it cost just $1 in new ingredients—for the bunch of cilantro, which I actually used only a fraction of, so it was more like 25 cents of new ingredients. As per (2) above, it behooves you to always keep on hand onions, garlic, pasta, and tomatoes in fresh or canned form.

First I sautéed some sliced red onion over medium-low heat in butter and a bit of olive oil. Then I tossed/mixed in a bunch of minced garlic, followed by some quartered grape tomatoes and a rinsed/drained can of black beans. While this cooked for a few minutes, I took a brick of brisket left over from a recent excellent dinner at Watty & Meg and shredded it into strips.

Rigatoni With Sausage & Broccoli Rabe

This is one of your super-simple, quick weeknight one-dish meals. The balance of sweet, rich, spicy sausage with the bitter greens, the salty Parmesan, and the neutralizing pasta is a perfect harmony.

The secret to good broccoli rabe (or as we call it in our household, broccoli The Rob) is that you have to take the edge off the bitterness, either by “shocking” it in boiling water or siphoning it out into chicken stock or another liquid while sautéing. I find the former method to be more effective—as long as you don’t boil the greens for too long so they lose their crunch and flavor. It works great for pasta since you can just toss it into the same water.

Start by boiling a big covered pot of salted water. I like using one that comes with a lift-out colander basket, since it makes it super easy to lift out the broccoli rabe and then add the pasta into the same boiling water. But if you don’t have one you can use tongs to extricate it.

While you are waiting for the water to boil, heat a little olive oil in a large skillet or wide-bottomed stockpot over medium-high. Add a pound of loose sweet or hot Italian sausage—you can either buy it that way, or use a paring knife to slit the casings of a package of 6 tube-style sausages and “peel” them to extricate the filling.

Sauté the sausage, stabbing it with a wooden spoon to crumble it up into smaller chunks. (BTW, Stabbing to Crumble would be a great name for your new thrash-metal band. You’re welcome!)

When the sausage is cooked through (gray with brown spots; it’s okay if there are hints of pink still), lift it out of the pan with a slotted spoon and drain on paper towels or a brown paper bag.

Saturday Night Comfort Food: Ravioli alla Tortorella

Last night, I invented this dish and named it in honor of the New York Rangers’ coach John Tortorella. There is no particular significance to the ingredients as pertaining to him; I just wanted to pay tribute to the man who has led my secret boyfriend Henrik Lundqvist and his teammates to be NUMBER FREAKING ONE IN THE NHL AND WINNERS OF THE WINTER CLASSIC!!! And whose name just sounds like it should be a pasta. Originally I was actually thinking of inventing a Tortellini alla Tortorella (you know how I love geeky wordplay, gentle reader), but I figured ravioli would work better, because the meat sauce would mingle with the cheese filling once you cut into the ravioli, whereas tortellini are all wound up tight (much like Tortorella).

While heating a large pot of salted water for a package of cheese ravioli (13 count), I sautéed a little over a pound of ground pork in a couple tablespoons of olive oil with a medium chopped onion, a bunch of minced garlic, and a 10-oz. package of cremini (a.k.a. "baby bella") mushrooms sliced and halved. Oh, and coarse salt and pepper of course, and some fresh thyme leaves. I broke up the meat with a wooden spoon as it cooked.

Once the meat was cooked through (it doesn’t really brown, it more like…whites), I added maybe 1/2 cup frozen peas, stirred them in to mix, and transferred the meat mixture to a bowl.

Lamb Shank Stew With Tomato and Butter Beans

It is an all too rare occurrence that my co-blogger and I cook and eat a meal together. But a few days before New Year’s, we found ourselves free of plans. Serendipitously, I had a pot full of lamb shank stew that I had planned to serve over rice, and Alyce was…making rice. It was totally like I was a crocodile and she was that bird that picks food out of its teeth, or something. So, Alyce jumped in her car to come pick me up, I threw my pot into a canvas shopping bag (have lamb, will travel!), and we proceeded to have the best impromptu dinner party ever.

How, gentle reader, did I come to have said pot of stew in my possession? Well, the previous night, I had made tomato soup (recipe to come, sooner or later) and grilled cheese sandwiches (with fancy artisanal bread from Brooklyn Victory Garden and Kraft singles from Met Foods) for myself and The Rob, and prepped this lamb stew for later in the week. See, on weeknights, I like to throw together something quick for that night’s dinner (say, pasta) while simultaneously pre-cooking something that can be reheated another night. Cheap cuts of meat like lamb shank and beef short ribs take a long time to slow-cook but require zero maintenance while doing so, and serving them on the next night or two is actually preferable because (a) the flavors develop that much longer and (b) during overnight refrigeration, a layer of fat congeals at the top of the liquid and can be easily skimmed off before reheating.

So, here’s how to put this dish together. It takes time management (you want it to cook 4 hours on night 1) but very little hands-on time.

Stuffed Peppers with Andouille Sausage and Rice

Sometimes I plan a dish around using up a given leftover, only to defeat the point by buying $25 worth of ingredients (okay, granted, $10 of that is probably for a bottle of wine—but how else are you supposed to make leftovers palatable?). However, tonight—said leftover being a pint of white rice from last night’s Chinese food—I opted for stuffed peppers, a dish that absorbs cheap ingredients and random scraps of leftovers like Lindsay Lohan’s liver absorbs toxins.

The ingredients in stuffed peppers can easily be switched up depending on what’s in the fridge, as well as multiplied to feed an army. They’re quick and easy, and pretty healthy (well, I’ll give you options besides the sausagey version), and they require just one bowl and one pan.

There are many ways to make stuffed peppers. Since my mom used to make them regularly when I was a kid (with ground lamb), my method is derived from hers. Considering the present heat wave, I opted to be cheesy and use the toaster oven—just make sure your peppers have sufficient clearance from its ceiling, lest fire and brimstone ensue.