Pollo all'Americano--Chicken Stew with Polenta, Celery Root, and Sage, and a Brownie Redemption

I will not be defeated by brownies. I've tried Alton Brown's recipe, Cook's Illustrated's recipe, a Saveur recipe, and Thomas Keller's recipe for brownies, and every one of them has resulted in a fail. After this last spectacular failure, I was determined to once and for all conquer this unassuming dessert.

I had enough ingredients available to once again attempt Thomas Keller's recipe, and because the problem seemed to be with me as opposed to the recipe, I decided to go Ad Hoc.

This time, I decided that I would let the batter rest for a while, as is all the rage with chocolate chip cookie dough these days. This, I hoped, would help with the seeming lack of cohesiveness of ingredients that I experienced last time. Not wanting to poison my friends and family, I figured I had better let it rest in the fridge.

This, of course, meant that when I took it back out, it was rock solid and was therefore not about to be poured into a baking pan. Genius.

So I put the bowl of batter on top of the oven while it was preheating, but I kept envisioning melted and ruined batter. So I took it off. It was taking too long. I put it back on. I took it off.

Eventually, it was somewhat spreadable, but still had a fudgy texture. Good enough; it had to go in the oven. "Wow," Hunter said, "How did you manage to get brownie batter to be like fudge?"

"Shut up."

So far, brownies seem to exist just to torment me. But you know what? After only a short time in the oven, it became obvious that the brownies were going to develop that crackly, crispy crust that I so love and desire in my brownies. That flaky exterior is one of my favorite brownie attributes, and I have never yet been able to achieve it. Every time I've slid a pan or brownies in the oven, whether they be homemade or (gasp!) boxed, I say to them, "You better get crusty this time, damnit."

And they never listen. At best, I get maybe a square inch of cooperation, so I could have wept for joy when I saw this:

Nonetheless, Nick continued to say, "They're burning. They're going to burn. But they'll still be raw in the middle."

"Shut UP."

So it's true that they were a tiny bit chewy/overcooked around the edges, and while the middle was cooked just right, for whatever reason, the bottoms were a bit chewy, as well.

These brownies have chunks of chocolate in them, which, in the first batch, became little pockets of molten chocolate. That didn't consistently happen this time, perhaps because the batter was cold, but it didn't really bother me. Plus, perhaps I got my long sought-after crust because of the temperature of the batter. If anyone ever reads this and knows the answer, feel free to let me know.

So, overall, they were not the perfect brownies, but they were pretty good. My Dad argued that they're not cost effective and perhaps not worthwhile on that basis, but I argued that while a box of brownies may have been a quarter of the price, and it may have tasted almost as good, these brownies are less likely to give you cancer. He conceded the point, and he did admit that these were worthy of a Brownie Redemption.

Before all this brownie madness, however, we had some dinner. I had worked the night before and was therefore feeling relatively unmotivated, so I sought out a relatively simple recipe. Mario Batali's Chicken Stew with Polenta, Celery Root and Sage fit the criteria, so I went to the store.

What's that? I was just whining about how I didn't want to eat a wintery, chickeny, stew thing? True. In my defense, it was a really cold day, and I do admit that I can be rather contrary.

Nick won't go to Whole Foods with me because the crowded isles filled with non-paying-attention people make him want to punch someone. I can usually handle it, but I knew it was a bad sign when I walked up to the front door and noted that there were no carts. 'Okay. Deep breath. You can do this.'

Well, there was no celery root to be found, but I thought that it was rather brilliant of me to get some parsnips and fennel instead. Close-ish, right?

And then there were no whole chickens. Because I'm lazy, I had ideally hoped to get one of those packs of chicken that have been cut up into 'serving pieces' the way I was supposed to have done to a whole chicken, but that was not going to happen. So I had to get all mad scientist and buy the separate chicken pieces in order to make a whole chicken. Somehow, this way, it didn't seem like much chicken, so I figured I'd get a couple bone-in thighs. Well, they only had huge 'family packs' so I guess we'll just have to do our chicken and chorizo thingy later this week.

They also didn't have fine cornmeal or quick cooking polenta, and I've heard that the pre-made tube-packaged polenta is not really worth bothering with. I had some cornmeal at home, but it didn't say whether it was fine or not fine, and I couldn't really tell. I thought about sending it for a spin in the food processor the way some recipes will instruct you to make superfine sugar out of regular sugar if you're unable to find the superfine stuff, but that was just getting too complicated, and I was feeling way too lazy.

My solution was to attempt the polenta with the cornmeal I had on hand, but bring some couscous in case I achieved a Polenta Fail. The problem, though, was that I've never made polenta, so wasn't really able to judge what constitutes a Fail. Polenta can be a rather scary and fabled culinary objective, although less so than souffles, which are on the List of Things Leah Can't Make. Molly of Orangette writes amusingly and eloquently of the Polenta Dilemma.

It's true--it does require a lot of stirring, to which Nick and his sore arm can attest. Mario says that you can bring some water to a boil, dump in the cornmeal, and stir until it reaches the consistency of "molten lava," whatever that is. Well, it was soon obvious that it was not as magically simple as he makes it out to be, so back on the heat it went.

The description 'molten lava,' while poetic, is not very helpful, so when I got tired of dealing with the stuff, the polenta went into a pan to cool, as instructed. In retrospect, the consistency was correct for normal polenta, but not for polenta that was to be cut into squares. Or maybe it just didn't get cool enough. I don't know.

The solution was to leave it as un-cubed polenta and use it as a bed onto which we would nestle the braised bits. Those braised bits started off as chicken pieces dredged in flour, which were seared until golden.

The veggies were then cooked until golden, and 2 cups of red wine, a cup of Mario's standard tomato sauce, and 8 sage leaves were added to the pot.

Okay, I confess--I used a jarred sauce rather than Mario's sauce. My Dad was rather scandalized, and my Italian grandmother would have been ashamed of me, but in my defense, this is some of the best pasta sauce I've ever tasted. Numerous times, I've attempted to make my own tomato sauces, and while they've been pretty good, none of them have been as good as Classico's Fire Roasted Tomato and Garlic. I swear they're not paying me to say that.

This all simmered for a while and was then plated on top of the polenta and garnished with some parsley and lemon zest. While the meal was very good, it could have been tastier had I salted it better. As I've mentioned, I've been rather scared of salt lately and have yet to achieve the happy medium between tastelessness and mouth-puckering saltiness. Mario didn't even mention adding salt to the polenta, but I added a bit anyway. I'm glad I did, but it wasn't nearly enough.

So while the lack of salt lent the dish a rather bland taste, Nick and I were also a little bit bored with it because it tasted like just about every other braised dish with meat, wine, and vegetables. We therefore concluded that there's something to be said for the 'deconstructed' approach. For example, Hunter was impressed by the fragrance of the raw parsnips, but in the finished dish, there really could have been any root vegetable in there. If we make this again, perhaps we'll take a Keller-esque approach and cook the parsnips separately.

So overall, we had fun making this meal, it was delicious, and, best of all, I almost conquered those pesky little brownies.

This is how we'll make this stew if we ever make it again:

Polenta with Chicken Stew with Root Vegetables and Sage

(Adapted from Mario Batali's Pollo all'Americano)

• 5 cups water
• 1 cup quick-cooking polenta or fine cornmeal
• 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
• salt and freshly ground black pepper
• one 3 1/2 to 4 pound organic chicken, cut into serving pieces and skinned, rinsed and patted dry
• 4 bone-in skinless chicken thighs, rinsed and patted dry
• 6 TBSP olive oil
• 1 large sweet yellow onion, diced
• 4 large parsnips, peeled and diced
• half of one small fennel bulb, diced
• 2 cups red wine
• 1 cup jarred, good quality tomato sauce
• 8 fresh sage leaves
• 3 tablespoons minced fresh flat-leaf parsley
• 1 tablespoon lemon zest

In a large sauce pan, bring the water to a boil. Add the polenta or cornmeal and reduce heat to low. Stir almost constantly (as you would a risotto) until the polenta achieves a pudding-like consistency; salt to taste while cooking. It will probably take an hour to an hour and a half to cook the polenta.

Season the flour with salt and pepper and place in a large bag or Tupperware container. One at a time, add the chicken pieces and shake to coat evenly with the flour. Pat off excess and set aside.

In a large Dutch oven, heat the olive oil over medium-high heat until almost smoking. In batches, without crowding the pan, brown the chicken pieces. If necessary, wipe out any burnt bits from the bottom of the pot.

Add more oil if necessary, and sauté the parsnips and fennel until golden.

Add the wine, tomato sauce, and sage leaves, and return the chicken to the pot. Bring to a boil and reduce the heat to a simmer and cook until the thighs are cooked through, about 35 minutes.

Remove chicken pieces to a plate and briskly simmer sauce until it is reduced to a thick sauce; season to taste with salt and freshly ground black pepper. Return chicken to the pot to re-warm if it has cooled.

Spoon 1/4 of the polenta onto each plate, and top with a thin sliver of butter. Place a piece of chicken on the bed of polenta, and spoon sauce over. Sprinkle with parsley and lemon zest, serve immediately.

Possible alternative: First, preheat oven to 425 degrees. Peel and dice parsnips into 3/4 inch chunks, and toss with olive oil and salt on a baking sheet. Roast until parsnips are tender and browned, about 20-40 minutes, depending on the parsnips. Add to the stew 10 minutes before the end of cooking time.

Brownies

(adapted from Thomas Keller's Ad Hoc at Home)

• 3/4 cup all-purpose flour
• 1 cup unsweetened alkalized cocoa powder
• 1 teaspoon Kosher salt
• 3 sticks butter (3/4 lb), cut into tablespoon-sized pieces
• 3 large eggs
• 1 3/4 cup granulated sugar
• 1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
• 6 ounces Ghiardelli (or a similar brand) semi-sweet chocolate chips

Stir together the flour, cocoa powder, and salt.

Melt half the butter in a small sauce pan over medium heat, stirring occasionally. Put the remaining butter in a medium bowl. Pour the melted butter over the butter in the bowl, and stir to melt. The butter should look creamy, with small bits of unmelted butter, and be at room temperature.

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, mix together the eggs and sugar on medium speed for about 3 minutes, or until thick and very pale. Mix in the vanilla. On low speed, add about one-third of the dry ingredients, then add one-third of the butter. Continue alternating butter and dry ingredients until they are incorporated into the batter. Add the chocolate chips and mix to combine.

Put the batter in the refrigerator for at least a few hours, and up to a week. When ready to cook the brownies, preheat the oven to 350 degrees, and allow the brownies to sit at room temperature until they are spreadable. Butter and flour a glass or metal 9x13 inch baking pan.

Spread the batter evenly in the pan and bake for 40 to 45 minutes, until a toothpick poled into the center comes out with just a few moist crumbs attached to it. If the pick comes out wet, test a second time, as you may have hit a chocolate chip, which will be molten.

Cool brownies in the pan, on a rack, until they are a bit warmer than room temperature. Cut into squares and serve.

Old School Week--Chicken Saltimbocca, Pizza, and a Brownie Fail

Nick and I had been feeling rather old-school this past week. I was craving some of the recipes that first got us into cooking, I suppose because I was craving comfort and familiarity as a result of not feeling well. These meals are comfort food in the literal sense, but also in that they have sentimental value.

These are the kind of meals that we can make with a minimum of conversation, as we each basically have our assigned jobs. If that sounds boring, let me assure you that it is not--it leaves our brains free for talking about other things, and it's helped us develop a sense of teamwork and effortless cooperation that's useful in other areas of our lives.

Plus, when we make these meals, it reminds me of all the other times they were made, which were, for the most part, really good times. Like the time I was really worn out from school and work, and had asked Nick to make the dough before I got home so that we wouldn't have to wait for it to rise. What happened? He sliced off the tip of his finger on the blade of the food processor--see what I mean about having our assigned jobs?--he doesn't usually do that part. So I guess that wasn't a 'good time' for him, but it was memorable.

First up was Giada De Laurentiis' Chicken Saltimbocca. Now, this is not a traditional saltimbocca like this one, and it might even be offensive to some purists out there. It is, however, delicious, relatively healthy, and fun to make.

We start by slicing chicken breasts in half and pounding them thin (the bunnies really hate this part). The breasts are then salted and peppered, topped with a slice of prosciutto, defrosted frozen spinach that's been tossed with olive oil, and Parmesan cheese.


These little rolls of goodness are then pan-seared until golden, at which point chicken stock and lemon juice are added to the pan and simmered for a few minutes until the chicken is cooked through.

The chicken is then removed to a plate while the sauce reduces. The finished dish is possibly good enough for casual company, and it's lovely when paired with any number of sides, from baked potatoes to pesto-tossed pasta. It's also delicious as leftovers, to which my spreading waistline can attest.

Speaking of expanding waistline, next up was pizza. We were having some friends over for dinner, and pizza sounded delicious and relatively stress-free. We've always used the Cooks Illustrated recipe for Pizza Margherita, although I have recently been tempted to use Jim Lahey's dough recipe. In this case, there wasn't time for a 24 hour rise, so we went with the classic.

The standard Pizza Margherita is simple and delicious, so we made a standard one of those. We also made a Margherita topped with prosciutto and black olives. For the other pizzas, we used the Cooks Illustrated dough, but went with different toppings.

I used a white pizza recipe from Epicurious and added some shrimp and chopped parsley for a scampi-esque flavor. My family used to say that the Margherita was the best pizza they'd ever had, but when I made this white pizza recipe a few years ago, they said that it was the new Best Pizza Ever.

The last pizza was a tribute to Nick's love for barbecue chicken pizza. We used barbecue sauce as the base and topped it with Jack cheese, grilled chicken, and crunchy bacon. It was all garnished with the chives that are growing so abundantly in our garden.

For dessert, I had decided to stick with the casual-fun vibe and make some brownies. I managed to get everything I needed in just one trip to the store, we were on time, the batter came together well...so far, so good.

Nick tasted the batter and proclaimed it yummy, to which my response was, "It's yummy now, but brownies are kind of sort of on my List of Things Leah Can't Make."

"Really? Now you tell me?"
"Ummm...yeah. Maybe today will be my lucky day."

Alas, it was not to be. I really should have listened to that little voice, 'That sure is a lot of batter for a 9-inch square pan. You don't like thick brownies. This won't work. You'll have dry edges and raw centers.'

Oh, little voice. You are so much smarter than I. Why do I not listen to you?

The center of the pan was downright raw, so I salvaged the edges, and it was Nick's bright idea to put them in some cute little bowls. They were topped with homemade coffee ice cream and Grand Mariner whipped cream, and disaster was averted. The brownies were rather tasty, but I felt that somehow the butter didn't meld with the chocolate, which was quite curious. These brownies are in need of a retry, and perhaps the second go-round will result in picture-worthy brownies, because belive me when I tell you that this was not a pretty dessert.

So. Lessons learned this week:
Don't get sick in April. It sucks.
When adding toppings to a pizza, remove the stone from the oven so that the oven doesn't get cold, resulting in less-than-perfect pizza.
Don't cook brownies in a small, square pan. It hasn't worked in the past, so why would it magically work this time?
Don't mess with romesco sauce while wearing a white shirt and think that you won't get any on the shirt. You will.
Do not eat all of the leftovers in the fridge. You will feel fat, especially when face-stuffing is combined with the sedentariness imposed by illness.
Question: Does this person have too much time on their hands, or is this a work of genius?

Chicken Saltimbocca

(Adapted from Giada DeLaurentiis' Everyday Italian)

• 3 chicken breasts
• 1 1/2 teaspoons salt, plus more to taste
• 2 10 ounce boxes of frozen chopped spinach, thawed
• 3 TBSP olive oil
• 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, plus more to taste
• 6 paper-thin slices prosciutto
• 1/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
• 2 cups chicken broth
• 3 tablespoons lemon juice

Lay the chicken breasts out flat on a work surface. Insert a knife horizontally to the work surface into the thickest part of the chicken breast, and cut the breast in half, first one way, then the other. Or, you can butterfly the chicken and cut all the way through, rather than most of the way through. Pound the resulting halves of chicken breasts into thin cutlets so that you have 6 thin pieces of chicken.

Lay the cutlets out on a work surface so that the cut side is facing up. Thoroughly salt and pepper the chicken. This dish is best when it is very salty, so don't skimp on the salt, even though you may think that because prosciutto can be a little bit salty the whole dish is in danger of being too salty. It's almost impossible to make this too salty.

Squeeze the frozen spinach to remove excess water. In a small bowl, toss the spinach with 1 tablespoon of the olive oil. Season with 1/4 teaspoon each salt and pepper.

Lay one slice of prosciutto on top of each chicken cutlet. Spread an even layer of spinach on each cutlet, and top each cutlet with the Parmesan. Beginning at the short tapered end, roll up each roll up each cutlet and secure with toothpicks.

In a large, heavy skillet, heat the remaining 2 tablespoons of olive oil over high heat. Add the chicken rolls and cook until golden brown, about 2-3 minutes on each side. Add the broth and the lemon juice and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to medium, cover, and simmer until the chicken is just cooked through, about 4 minutes.

Transfer the chicken to a plate, and increase the heat to high in order to reduce the sauce to about 2/3 of a cup; this will take about 5-8 minutes. Season with salt and pepper to taste, pour sauce over the chicken, and serve.

Pizza Margherita

(From Cook's Illustrated)

Dough

• 1 1/4 teaspoons instant yeast
• 1 cup water at room temperature
• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 3/4 cup whole wheat flour
• 1 cup cake flour
• 2 teaspoons table salt
• 2 teaspoons sugar

Topping 

• 1 28-ounce can diced tomatoes
• 1/2 teaspoon sugar
• 1 small garlic clove, minced
• 1/2 cup thinly sliced fresh basil leaves
• Salt
• 8 ounces fresh mozzarella, sliced into 1/4 -inch slices and dried on paper towels
• Freshly ground black pepper
• Extra virgin olive oil

For the crust: In the measuring cup, whisk the yeast to dissolve. In a food processor, process flours, salt, and sugar until combined, about 5 seconds. With the machine running, slowly add liquid through the feed tube. Continue to process until the dough forms satiny, slightly stick ball that clears the side of the work bowl, about 30 seconds. 


If dough is not the proper consistency, add more flour or water as needed. Divide the dough in half and shape into smooth, tight balls. Place on a baking sheet, spacing them at least 3 inches apart; cover loosely with plastic wrap coated with non-stick cooking spray and let rise until doubled in volume, about 2 hours.


Preheat oven to 500 degrees.


For the topping: In clean bowl of food processor, process tomatoes until crushed, two or three one-second pulses. Transfer tomatoes to fine-mesh strainer set over a bowl. Allow them to drain at least 30 minutes, stirring occasionally to release liquids. Just before shaping pizza rounds, combine drained tomatoes, sugar, garlic, half of the basil, and a 1/4 teaspoon salt in the bowl.


To shape and cook the pizzas: When dough balls have doubled in size, dust dough liberally with flour and transfer to a well-floured work surface. Press one ball into 8-inch disk. Using flattened palms, gently stretch the ball into a 12-inch circle, working along outer edge and giving dish 1/4 turns. Occasionally use the tips of your fingers to make divets on the surface of the dough--this will help it stretch.


Lightly flour pizza peel; lift edges of dough round to brush off any excess flour, and transfer dough to peel. Spread half of the tomato topping over the surface of the dough, leaving a 1/2-inch border. Slide onto pizza stone and bake until the crust begins to brown, about 5 minutes. 


Remove the pizza from the oven, close the oven door, and top the pizza with half of the cheese slices. Return the pizza to the oven and continue cooking until the cheese is melted and the dough is golden brown. Remove from the oven and sprinkle with Kosher salt, freshly ground black pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil. Spread half of the remaining basil over the top. Repeat with the second pizza. Cut into wedges and serve.

White Pizza

(Adapted from Epicurious)

• Half of the dough recipe from above
• 3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
• 1 garlic clove, minced
• 6 ounces fresh mozzarella cheese, cut into 1/4-inch-thick slices, then coarsely chopped
• 3 ounces soft fresh goat cheese, crumbled
• 1/2 cup part-skim ricotta cheese
• 3 tablespoons freshly grated Parmesan cheese
• 3 tablespoons thinly sliced fresh basil

Follow above instructions for making and forming the dough. Mix 2 tablespoons olive oil and garlic in small bowl. 

When you've gotten to the part where the pizza is on the stone, brush it lightly with some of garlic oil. Cook for 5 minutes until the dough looks like it's beginning to set, and remove from the oven. Top with mozzarella cheese and goat cheese, leaving 1/2-inch plain border. Crumble ricotta cheese over, then sprinkle with Parmesan. Bake pizza until crust is golden brown and cheese melts. Drizzle remaining garlic-oil over pizza. And sprinkle the basil over the top. Cut into wedges and serve.

Sauteed Halibut with Arugula, Roasted Beets, and Horseradish Creme Fraiche

Sprouts!


I can't wait till these little guys are strikingly tall zinnias burgeoning with big fluffy, bright flowers.

Like this:

These guys will be tasty and convenient herbs.


A lot of the 10X10 recipes call for small amounts of herbs that I don't use in great quantities. I therefore figured that it would be nice to grow herbs like sorrel, marjoram, and epazote, especially because these herbs often can't be found in the store. It's just not so fun to pick a recipe that depends on sorrel, finding that the store doesn't have it, and having to pick something else. Or, finding that they do have it, using a tiny bit, and letting the rest go to waste. I figure that purchases like that add up to the massive percentage of my paycheck that goes to food, so I'd rather spend $1.50 on the seeds one time, and never have to worry about buying the herb.

If you know me well, you know that I have had an on-going battle with squirrels for the past 15 years. It would take about 2,000 words to adequately describe the scope of these issues, but I will tell you that one year, a squirrel decided to bite all the heads off my little baby basil sprouts. It didn't eat the whole plant, just the heads, so I was left with all the sad little stalks valiantly but vainly poking their bodies out of the soil. When the squirrel dug up the lily bulbs and ate the tender tasty centers I found it annoying but somewhat understandable. But only the heads? Really? That's just perverse.

Or how about the time I tried those little mesh seed-thingies that you start inside and plant outside? That year, the squirrels dug them up, shredded them, and threw them all over the porch. They didn't eat those, either. That was just to mess with me. I could go on and on here, but I'll spare you. I won't mention the time they ate the Christmas lights, or the time I came home to find one in my bedroom...

Basically, that's why the sprouts have a squirrel guard. This squirrel is here to say that these sprouts are his, and the rest of you squirrels better back off.

The onion wanted to get in on the sprouting action, too.

All this springtime feeling got me wanting something light for dinner, and I'm a little obsessed with Sunday Suppers at Lucques right now, so I picked Suzanne Goin's recipe for sauteed halibut with arugula, roasted beets, and horseradish creme fraiche.

It started with coating a piece of halibut with lemon zest, thyme, and parsley.

That is one pretty fish fillet.
How did I zest a lemon when Thomas Keller stole my zester, you ask?
I used my spiffy new microplane zester! It has a handle. Oooohh.

So beets were roasted and sliced into wedges. They were then tossed with a dressing made from diced shallots, balsamic vinegar, red wine vinegar, olive oil, salt, and pepper.

The beets were plated on a bed of arugula and spring green mix. It was supposed to be straight baby arugula, but Whole Foods didn't have it, so the mix just had to do.

The fish was then burned in a skillet. Suzanne Goin tells you to put the skillet on high heat for two minutes, swirl in olive oil, and let it sit for another minute. Why I followed this direction, or the one that instructed me to make mayonnaise by hand, I do not know. This resulted in a very very charred exterior that tasted of Teflon rather than crispy fishy deliciousness.

It also meant that while the exterior was charred, the interior was raw. Had this been tuna, that would have been just fine. It wasn't tuna, though, and I became rather flustered, which resulted in very overcooked fish. I've really never been able to pan-sear fish. I can bake it, grill it, and poach it, but pan searing? Not so much.

I'll just add it to the List of Things Leah Can't Cook. That illustrious list includes duck in any form, pate choux (if I hear one more person say it's soooo easy, my head is going to explode), and souffles.

The halibut was plated and the whole dish was drizzled with a sauce made from creme fraiche, horseradish, lemon, salt and pepper.

Try to pretend that the fish isn't blackened, and it doesn't look like some sort of humpbacked whale beached on sands of lettuce and beets. Also, pretend that the plating and lighting don't suck. Thank you.

It tasted delicious, though. I already knew that I liked cream and beets together, and it turns out that horseradish is also delicious with beets. The meal wasn't overly heavy, but it was satisfying because of the sugary, earthy, starchy beets, and it was just right for very early spring. The pepperiness of the horseradish and arugula was nicely paired with the mildness of the fish and creme fraiche. Next time, though, I'll probably cut the beets into smaller shapes, and I'll try my best not to demolish the halibut fillet.

Sautéed Halibut with Arugula, Roasted Beets, and Horseradish Creme Fraiche

• 6 halibut fillets
• 1 lemon, zested
• 1 tablespoon thyme leaves
• 2 tablespoons coarsley chopped flat-leaf parsley
• 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
• 4 ounces arugula, cleaned
• Roasted Beets with Horseradish Creme Fraiche (recipe below)
• 2 tablespoons olive oil, for drizzling
• Kosher salt and freshly grouns black pepper

Season the fish with the lemon zest, thyme, and parsley. Cover and refrigerate at least 4 hours or overnight. Remove the fish from the refrigerator 15 minutes before cooking, to bring it to room temperature.


Heat a large sauté pan over high heat for 1 minute. Season the fish on both sides with salt and pepper. Swirl the olive oil into the pan, and when it's shimmering, carefully lay the fish in the pan and press on them a little bit. Cook for 3 to 4 minutes, until the fillets are nicely browned. Turn the fish over, turn the heat to medium-low, and cook a few more minutes, until it's almost cooked through. 


Be careful not to overcook the fish. When it's done, the fish will begin to flake and separate a little, and the center will be slightly translucent. Scatter half of the arugula over a large platter. Arrange the beets on top, and drizzle with half the horseradish cream.


Tuck the rest of the arugula among the beets, so you can see the beets peeking through. Nestle the fish in the salad, and spoon a little horseradish cream over each piece. Drizzle the whole dish with olive oil and a big squeeze of lemon.

Roasted Beets with Horseradish Creme Fraiche

• 4 smallish bunches different-colored beets
• 1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
• 1 tablespoon diced shallot, plus 1/4 cup sliced shallots
• 1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon balsamic vinegar
• 2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
• 2 1/2 teaspoons lemon juice
• 1/2 cup creme fraiche
• 1 tablespoon prepared horseradish
• 1/4 cup heavy cream
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.


Cut off the beet greens, leaving 1/2 inch of the stems still attached. Clean the beets well, and peel with a vegetable peeler. Toss with 2 tablespoons olive oil and a teaspoon of salt.


Place the beets in a roasting pan with a splash of water in to bottom. Cover the pan tightly with foil, and roast for about 40 minutes, until they're tender when pierced. The roasting time will depend on the size and type of beet. When the beets are done, care fully remove the foil and allow them to cool. Cut the beets into 1/2-inch thick wedges.


While the beets are in the oven, combine the disced shallot, both vinegars, a teaspoon lemon juice, and 1/4 teaspoon salt in a small bowl, and let sit 5 minutes. Whisk in the 1/2 cup olive oil. Taste for balance and seasoning.


Whisk the creme fraiche and horseradish together in a small bowl. Stir in the heavy cream, remaining 1/2 teaspoon lemon juice, 1/8 teaspoon salt, and a pinch of pepper. Toss the beets and sliced shallots with the vinaigrette. (If you're using different-colored beets, dress them separately so that they don't discolor each other.) Season with 1/4 teaspoon salt and a pinch of freshly ground black pepper and toss well. Taste for balance and seasoning.






Here's a meal that I didn't mess up too badly (the rice was a tiny bit underdone, but it wasn't too noticeable):

This is one of Nick's favorite dishes, and it's in our regular rotation. It's relatively economical, and it's easy although it is a bit time-consuming. However, most of that time is not active time. It's spicy and satisfying, somewhat healthy, and the leftovers are delicious. We highly recommend that you try this meal.

Chicken and Brown Rice With Chorizo

• 2 1⁄2 lbs. bone-in skinless chicken thighs
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
• 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
• 3⁄4 lb. smoked, dried chorizo, cut into 1"-thick slices
• 2 tablespoons roughly chopped fresh oregano
• 1⁄2 tsp. crushed red pepper flakes
• 4 cloves garlic, crushed
• 1 large yellow onion, thinly sliced
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 1⁄2 cups long-grain brown rice, rinsed
• 1⁄2 cup white wine
• 3 roasted red peppers, peeled, seeded, and cut into thick strips
• 3 cups chicken broth
• 1 cup frozen peas

Heat oven to 400°. Season the chicken lightly with salt and pepper. Heat the olive oil in a 4-quart dutch oven over medium-high heat. Working in batches, add the chicken and cook, without turning, until it's a deep golden brown, about 8 minutes.
Transfer the chicken to a plate and set aside. (Pour off and discard any accumulated fat and juices.) Add the chorizo and cook, stirring frequently, until lightly browned, about 5 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer chorizo to a plate, leaving the fat behind in the dutch oven. Set chorizo aside.


Add oregano, red pepper, garlic, onion, and bay leaf to the dutch oven and cook, stirring occasionally, until onion is lightly browned and somewhat soft, about 8 minutes. Add rice and cook, stirring frequently, until surface is glossy, about 2 minutes.


Add wine, bring to a boil while stirring often, and reduce by half, about 1 minute. Nestle chicken, chorizo, and half of the peppers into rice mixture. Pour in broth and season liquid to taste with salt and pepper. Cover the dutch oven and bring to a boil over high heat. Transfer to the oven and bake until rice is tender and chicken is cooked through, about 1 hour and 10 minutes.


Remove the dish from oven, uncover, and gently stir in the peas and the remainder of the peppers with a fork. Let sit for 10 minutes, covered, to allow the flavors to meld.