I agonized — let me tell you — about what to call this recipe. First, in my head, it was a pumpkin pot pie. But that sounded too much like a plain old pumpkin pie; or like a pot pie with little chunks of pumpkin floating around. Not appetizing. Then it was a poultry pot pumpkin. That, I thought, was cleverer. But it was unclear to the folks on whom I tested it what the pot meant, given that we don’t live in Colorado or Washington State. I went back and forth until Sarah finally told me: why don’t you give it a descriptive — not cutesy — title? Your readers will appreciate it, and the fairies at Google who decide how to rank pages will appreciate it too. So I did. And it’s what you see above.
But no matter what this dish is called, here’s the important part: there’s lots of stuff floating around on the Internet about what to cook for Thanksgiving. I’ve posted here, in fact, about how one might go about roasting a turkey, making squash side dishes, and even pumpkin mousse. But what’s really important in this season of too much food is not what you do on the day itself, but — clearly — how you handle the leftovers.
I remember — a few years ago, now — having a conversation with a friend on social media about whether it was necessary to soak your fried chicken in buttermilk before dredging it in flour and slipping it into your skillet full of hot oil. At the time, my position was that my mother’s dear friend from Oklahoma — the woman from whom I learned to make the stuff, whose fried chicken we all prized above all else — never soaked. Therefore I don’t either. And my position at the time was that if your chicken is fresh enough, and if it’s in fact a frying bird — young and small — it doesn’t need the extra help anyway.
Well today, I’ve changed my mind. I stand corrected — more or less.
So I’ve been looking back at the Twice Cooked archives, folks, and here’s a thing that really surprises me: given just how much chicken I cook — and specifically, given just how many whole chickens come through my house — I am shocked to find that the only thing I’ve ever written about roast chicken comes from way back in 2009, from the Livejournal carry-over prehistory of the blog.
This is a major oversight on my part. And today, I intend to remedy it.
This is a recipe that I’ve been meaning to share for months. I had planned, in fact, to include it in my post about Madeira wine and the sea back in November. But then that post got too long with all its history and its drinking recommendations. And then the research involved in it tired me out on delicious nautical wines for a while. And then one thing led to another and — oh, look at that! — it’s almost February.
But please don’t take my tardiness on the Madeira braised chicken front to mean that I don’t absolutely adore it. That would be the exact opposite of the truth. And if you were to pass over this recipe just because it was a long time coming, it would make me — personally — very sad for you. Because this is, I think, the single best chicken recipe I’ve posted here at Twice Cooked.
I’m sick. I’d wager that you’re sick, too. Or that if you’re not, you’re getting there. If the sensationalist media is to be believed, the whole United States is in the midst of a pestilential deluge — a microbial tsunami sweeping all the dry noses, and all the unsore throats, away and out to sea. […]
Alright, folks. After some long weeks of travel, of stormy weather, of presidential elections, of blog posts that are decidedly not about food — I have this one for you. Today’s experiment is baked chicken — salt and pepper chicken — and I can’t actually take credit for it. A couple of years ago, I […]
I am given to understand that there are some people out there for whom chicken liver is not a treat. This, I must say, I do not understand. You see — I grew up in what you might call a liver household. By which I mean: I grew up with a Jewish mother who made […]
Standing by the counter at Godshall’s Poultry, waiting for my number to be called, I found myself chatting with the woman ahead of me in line. Like me, she had come for stock-making provisions — pieces and parts, cheap bits, to populate her pot. She pointed the poultry man in the direction of the necks […]
So I don’t usually love fried chicken. In fact, if I see it on a menu, or (*shudder*) in a grocery store’s prepared food aisle, I usually steer clear. Generally speaking, I find that it is often too dry on the inside, too greasy on the outside, and far too caked with bland lumpy crust. […]
Right now, I’m making chicken stock. And the smell, from across the house, is making me so ravenous that it’s hard to concentrate on work. There may be smells more delicious, or more cerebrally appealing. But so far as I can tell, there is none that smells so much like Food — primal, meaty, nutritious, […]