In the first installment of this series, I wrote about my experience cooking duck breast with fig and red wine sauce. Since the ostensible topic was inexpensive eats for tough times, referencing exotic ingredients in such a discussion was an editorial feat requiring what Dabney Coleman once called "balls as big as church bells." Several of you were concerned enough to point this out to me privately, so okay -- I get the hint. My original purpose was only to proclaim that cooking on the cheap need not sequester you to the rice and beans ghetto, where the rewards are as limited as they are gastrointestinally challenging. But somewhere along the way, that idea was diluted by my sudden desire to work prepared waterfowl into the mix, and my good intentions were misinterpreted as support for clinging to extravagant ways, even as the world collapses all around us.
Fine. You're right and I'm guilty: The 28 dollars I spent on a modestly elegant home-cooked meal for my wife have eternally damned me along with the hoards of asshole investment bankers and their zillion dollar "retention" bonuses. When the middle class tax revolt is finally upon us, just cast me in a role like Harry Dean Stanton in Red Dawn -- thrown into re-education camp, force fed propaganda films vis-à-vis the merits and virtues of Top Ramen, and screaming for vengeance from behind barbed wire fencing in Central Park. I am signed on and anxiously anticipating your hotly prophecized dystopia.
Or not. While I'm in full agreement that we're all screwed six ways from Sunday on the economic front, I can't bring myself to abandon all indulgences in the face of adversity. But in a nod to the committed doomsayers in our midst, here's a recipe for an amazingly satisfying dinner, the ingredients for which can be 100% obtained at the local ghetto C-Town. So tasty and simple (and cheap) is this concoction that the associated agonies of your hastily departed life savings will vanish after just a few mouthfuls. To wit, please sit back and enjoy three minutes of the über-foxy Nigella Lawson as she whips together this sumptuous favorite of my broke-ass-poor ancestors:
One observation: Umm, pardon me, Nigella. But exactly how big are your wine glasses? Your call for "about half a glass" looked more like half a bottle to me, unless that's just some visual trickery created by the multiple camera angles. Not like I'm one to complain about an excess of wine, but honesty is a critical element for those of us who enjoy cooking by the light of a flickering computer monitor.
This recipe is seriously idiot-proof. Unless you are wholly unfamiliar with the use of A) a wooden spoon, or B) your hands, there is really no way you can muck this up to a state of ill fame. However, after several experiences in turning this one out for ourselves as well as for company, I would recommend the following alterations:
* Brown the chicken for a few minutes before adding the tomato. I am a major salmonella-phobe, and I have been guilty of cooking chicken to the point of non-recognition (and then taking it outside to run it over with the car a few times just to make sure it's really dead.) Fortunately, you're not me, so there's no need to behave so irrationally if you believe in the basics of physical science. After all, the chicken is going to boil away in the tomato and wine for a good while, thusly killing any bad bits which might make you sick later on. Just thank the god of your choice that dark meat is usually merciful enough to stay juicy no matter what indignities you inflict upon it.
* Bacon, of course, is the noblest of all cured meats, but even I recognize that not everyone eats it and that you've got to cater to all sorts in this world. If you're against using it for some reason or another, I can freely recommend Godshall's Turkey Bacon as an acceptable stand-in. Godshall's is the only brand of turkey bacon I have come across which doesn't make me want to light myself on fire and run screaming into the night. And no, I don't actually want to know what they do to it in order to achieve that effect. If you opt for real bacon, however, definitely spoon out some of the excess fat before browning the chicken, lest your guests' arteries seize up before you've had a chance to offer anyone an apéritif.
* Use more rosemary. Because really, when have you ever eaten anything that had too much rosemary?
Next time: Recession Transgression in full effect! (AKA How to make a tasty broth by boiling up the Doc Martens that have been lying in your closet since Autumn of '91.)
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