So, once upon a time, I used to make a lot of hummus with my picky younger guy. Then Bobbi's was created and came to our market and it was so so good we stopped bothering.
Now Bobbi's is unavailable. I could weep. And now I am stuck testing hummus recipes again.
I got some tahini but one of the awesome part of Bobbi's was that it was tahini free. I know that is sacrilege, but it allowed the garlic and lemon to shine. I tried this recipe from a mothering site that claimed to be like Bobbi's but it was so runny, it was soup, rather than hummus, and I cut back on the liquids! I ate it anyway but more as a sauce than a dip.
Next up: Ina Garten's hummus. She is usually reliable.
I am wishing I captured the hummus the little guy liked once upon a time! Oh well.
This is post 600, if you are counting. Blogger is, so I'm not. :)
I have no interest in violating any internet copyright laws but I don't have a NYT subscription and wanted to be able to access this. This is a genius recipe and all credit to Dorie Greenspan for it. I usually use more potatoes (though still small ones) and more baby carrots (because it's easier) and I rarely bother with the official gravy. But if you have the enameled cast iron pot, this is a great way to use it. I do not find that my chicken turns brown, though; it tends to stay an alarming shade of white. But none of us are skin eaters anyway, so as long as the meat is cooked (and it always is), it is awesome. The one thing to note: a 3.5 pound chicken is pretty darned small when you come down to it, so if you are feeding four or more, you will have very few leftovers, as indicated.
M. Jacques’s Armagnac Chicken
From “Around My French Table,” by Dorie Greenspan.
This recipe, une petite merveille (a little marvel), as the French would say, was given to me years ago by Jacques Drouot, the maître d’hôtel at the famous Le Dôme brasserie in Paris and an inspired home cook. I’ve been making it regularly ever since. It’s one of those remarkable dishes that is comforting, yet more sophisticated than you’d expect (or really have any right to demand, given the basic ingredients and even more basic cooking method).
1 tablespoon olive oil or vegetable oil
8 small thin-skinned potatoes, scrubbed and halved lengthwise
3 medium onions, halved and thinly sliced
2 carrots, trimmed, peeled and thickly sliced on the diagonal
Salt and freshly ground white pepper
1 thyme sprig
1 rosemary sprig
1 bay leaf
1 chicken, about 3½ pounds, preferably organic, trussed (or wings turned under and feet tied together with kitchen string), at room temperature
½ cup Armagnac (Cognac or other brandy)
1 cup water.
Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 450 degrees. You’ll need a heavy casserole with a tight-fitting cover, one large enough to hold the chicken snugly but still leave room for the vegetables. (I use an enameled cast-iron Dutch oven.)
Put the casserole over medium heat and pour in the oil. When it’s warm, toss in the vegetables and turn them around in the oil for a minute or two until they glisten; season with salt and white pepper. Stir in the herbs and push everything toward the sides of the pot to make way for the chicken. Rub the chicken all over with salt and white pepper, nestle it in the pot, and pour the Armagnac around it. Leave the pot on the heat for a minute to warm the Armagnac, then cover it tightly — if your lid is shaky, cover the pot with a piece of aluminum foil and then put the cover in place.
Slide the casserole into the oven and let the chicken roast undisturbed for 60 minutes.
Transfer the pot to the stove, and carefully remove the lid and the foil, if you used it — make sure to open the lid away from you, because there will be a lot of steam. After admiring the beautifully browned chicken, very carefully transfer it to a warm platter or, better yet, a bowl; cover loosely with a foil tent.
Using a spoon, skim off the fat that will have risen to the top of the cooking liquid and discard it; pick out the bay leaf and discard it too. Turn the heat to medium, stir the vegetables gently to dislodge any that might have stuck to the bottom of the pot, and add the water, stirring to blend it with the pan juices. Simmer for about 5 minutes, or until the sauce thickens ever so slightly, then taste for salt and pepper.
Carve the chicken and serve with the vegetables and sauce.
You can bring the chicken to the table whole, surrounded by the vegetables, and carve it in public, or you can do what I do, which is to cut the chicken into quarters in the kitchen, then separate the wings from the breasts and the thighs from the legs. I arrange the pieces in a large shallow serving bowl, spoon the vegetables into the center, moisten everything with a little of the sauce and then pour the remainder of the elixir into a sauce boat to pass at the table.
I can’t imagine that you’ll have anything left over, but if you do, you can reheat the chicken and vegetables — make sure there’s some sauce, so nothing dries out — covered in a microwave oven.
Armagnac and prunes are a classic combination in France. If you’d like, you can toss 8 to 12 prunes, pitted or not, into the pot along with the herbs. If your prunes are pitted and soft, they might pretty much melt during the cooking, but they’ll make a sweet, lovely addition to the mix.