Poultry

A preserved duck leg from the deli has saved my supper more times than I can count. Cased in its own white fat and crisped up in the oven or in a sauté pan, these “duck confit” are as near as I get to eating ready-made food. One January, arriving home cold and less than 100 percent, I stripped the meat from a couple of duck legs and used it to add protein to an express version of one of those lovingly tended cabbage and bean soups. The result was a slightly chaotic bowlful of food that felt as if it should be eaten from a scrubbed pine table in a French cave house. An extraordinarily heartwarming supper, immensely satisfying. An edible version of the sort of people one refers to as “the salt of the earth.” I am certain no one would have guessed it hadn’t spent the entire afternoon puttering away in a cast-iron pot.

A paillard is a piece of meat that has been pounded thin and seared. The purée in this recipe is fragrant and colorful, with a powerful tomatoey tang. Leftover purée can be used as a dip for vegetables or tossed with pasta. Do not reuse any purée that came in contact with the raw chicken without first boiling it for one minute. Start this recipe early in the day to allow the tomatoes and nuts enough time to soak.

Fesenjan combines fruit and meat, a Persian cooking style that traveled to Europe in the Middle Ages. This version gets its deep ruby color from the addition of beets (shown opposite). Served with rice, this stew makes for a sumptuous feast. Instead of chicken, try using duck or tempeh. Look for pomegranate syrup at natural and Middle Eastern food stores. If you can’t find pomegranate syrup, substitute 2 1/2 cups of unsweetened pomegranate juice and leave out the stock.

Fresh local grapes are an uncelebrated fall fruit, mostly because of their chewy skin and intrusive seeds. But grapes that aren’t ideal for snacking can be more fragrant and sweet than table grapes, and their acidity balances pleasingly with rich roasted chicken. Choose from any white, green, or red variety that’s native to your region. Depending on their sweetness, adjust the amount of honey in the recipe. You may use bottled, unsweetened white grape juice instead of fresh grapes. For a comforting cold-weather meal, serve with Watercress Mashed Potatoes (page 185) and Sweet Potato and Cranberry Cornmeal Biscuits (page 189).

Although technically an appetizer, these stuffed wings are also a convenient main course at lunch—down two of them and I guarantee you’ll be happily full for at least 4 hours. The technique here takes a little practice; don’t forget to use a very sharp knife. I promise you, your efforts will be worthwhile: this dish never fails to impress. If you have any leftover rice, you can eat it on its own as a side dish, stuff it into grape leaves for a Mediterranean twist, or steam inside a corn husk for a delicious Japanese-style “tamale.”

America’s Deep South isn’t the only place that loves fried chicken: tatsuta-age is Japan’s own delicious version, which my family and I are addicted to! Our fried chicken is marinated with traditional Japanese aromatic flavorings and served with a refreshing and savory slaw. You can enjoy this versatile dish hot and crispy, or pack it for a picnic and eat it at room temperature—it travels extremely well. Tatsuta-age is also a perfect leftover food. It keeps in the fridge for several days without losing its flavor, and you can turn the boneless chunks into a delicious sandwich. When I was a kid, my mother often included this fried chicken in my lunchbox, a treat I happily share with my own school-age children today. Don’t use the breast for this dish—the legs and thighs have much more flavor. Be sure to keep the skin on, too.

The secret to this cool, summertime dish? Steaming the chicken. When you steam chicken, it stays moist and juicy even if you serve it cold. And caramelizing the skin beforehand adds lots of wonderful flavor. These are both techniques I borrow from Chinese cuisine. The angel hair pasta in this dish plays the same role as somen noodles: not too chewy or overwhelming when enjoyed cold.

Although somen is typically a summertime food, here’s a delicious, fragrant dish you can enjoy year-round. I love cooking with traditional clay pots, which add a nice homey touch. They also keep food warm and, best of all, make a dramatic presentation—especially when you lift the lid to release this dish’s seductive aroma. You can find these vessels (called “donabe” in Japanese) in Asian markets, or you can substitute a Dutch oven or any sturdy pot with a lid (enamel or cast-iron pots work great). If you’re using a pot, combine all the servings and set the pot, covered, on a heatproof dish on your dining table. Remove the lid with a flourish and ladle into bowls. You’ll see that I call for an udon broth for this recipe. So why not udon noodles? Chicken and eggplant are lighter foods that perfectly complement the lighter somen noodle, while the udon broth adds body and flavor to this hot dish. I use violet-colored Chinese eggplants, which are about the size of zucchini and cook quicker than the larger, more common varieties.

This dish packs flavor with history. Take the word nanban, which refers to foreign influence in Japanese cooking. But duck is native to Japan, so what’s so foreign here? Back in the seventh century, the emperor issued a decree forbidding meat, and the country followed a Buddhist diet of fish and vegetables for more than a thousand years. Once Japanese started eating meat again in the nineteenth century, they called dishes like duck soba nanban—duck is something a foreigner would eat. It’s a convention that continues to this day.

Banbanji is a Chinese-inspired spicy sesame sauce that pairs wonderfully with chilled ramen noodles, a perfect summertime dish. Instead of grilling the chicken in this recipe, which is typical for cold dishes, you sear the skin side, then steam in sake. This results in crispy skin but incredibly moist chicken with a hint of sake flavor. With this technique, the chicken will always remain juicy and tender, even after you cool it. You can store the banbanji sauce in your refrigerator or freezer and use it over and over.

This is the basic and versatile chicken stock I use for my ramen recipes, and it is flavored with Japanese ingredients. You can prepare a big batch and store any extra in the freezer.

This French dish, which translates to “pot on the fire,” consists of meat and vegetables slowly cooked in water or stock. The broth is traditionally served with croutons as a first course, followed by an entrée of the meat and vegetables. The combination of meat and vegetables varies according to the region. It’s traditionally a slow-cooking dish that takes hours. This version makes use of more tender cuts of meat and therefore cooks much more quickly.

Several years ago, my sister was involved in a very serious accident and nearly died. It was perhaps the most pure, absolute fear I had ever felt in my entire life. Mama and I were only allowed to see her twice a day. One morning early on, when our grief and worry were still overriding any desire to eat, a group of ladies came to the hospital and set up lunch. The volunteer explained that several of the local churches provided lunch and supper for the families of patients. It was real food, made with love and care. Pimento cheese sandwiches and individual slices of pound cake were hand-wrapped in waxed paper and homemade yeast rolls were delivered while still warm, shiny with butter. There were hunks of meaty pot roast bathed in dark brown gravy and a comforting combination of tender chicken and dumplings. The food was amazing. It was restorative, as much for the delicious taste as the real caring and kindness. It was without a doubt the most rewarding, healing love I have ever felt from absolute strangers.

Well made stocks are one of the foundations of classic French cuisine. A good stock is redolent with flavor, clear, not cloudy, and rich with the naturally occurring gelatin in the bones. Have you made roast chicken and refrigerated the leftovers? Then, the next day you look at the chicken and the juices have congealed into a kind of meat Jell-O? That’s the gelatin that gives stocks—and the soups and sauces made from them—their wonderful flavor.

The name “dirty rice” doesn’t sound very appealing, but it is an enjoyable combination of creamy rice, savory vegetables, full-flavored chicken liver, and a heavy hand of intense spice. It’s an odd conglomeration of a Cajun stir-fry and soft, comforting rice. This is, like many other country recipes, a way to make a filling meal out of a potpourri of simple, inexpensive ingredients. The chopped liver is what gives it the dark, “dirty” color. Dirty rice is like many old-school recipes—everyone has a different way to prepare it. However, most versions contain the holy trinity of Cajun cooking: bell pepper, onion, and celery. I am not so fond of green bell peppers. They come back to say “hello” a little too often. I prefer poblano chiles, which are just slightly spicier than a green bell pepper, and I suggest using it here.

Cornish game hens (or Rock Cornish hens) are not as large as a chicken, yet larger than a quail. The French call them poussins, and they are essentially baby chickens. Mama has always cooked game hens for semi-special occasions since we all love them. They are great for a dinner party, too. Plan ahead, however; many grocery stores only sell them frozen. The safest way to defrost meat is in the refrigerator overnight or in the sink under cold running water. Bacteria thrive when food is between 41° and 140°F. So, you can imagine how appalled I am recalling how my mother, not knowing any better at the time, would defrost these hens, as well as chicken and hamburger meat, on the windowsill in the bright sunshine. It is amazing we never got sick (she knows better, now). Or maybe the early exposure just built up our resistance to food-borne bacteria.

Quail and dove shoots are still serious Southern rituals, and my father always hunted when I was growing up. Quail meat is darker than that of dove, which has a tendency to be dry. While I don’t shoot often anymore, I do love to reap the rewards from my friends and relatives who hunt. I can hardly eat or cook quail without thinking about a dinner party Mama hosted when I was young. She was frying the quail and her hand was splashed with hot grease. Instead of going to the hospital, she sat with her hand in a bowl of ice water in her lap under the table so as not to disturb her guests. Some people might think that was incredibly stupid, but all I can think about is her amazing hospitality and selflessness. Mama and I have laughed about it in later years, because the unexpected bonus is she has no age spots on that hand.

The first time Mama and I brined a turkey, it was a revelation. The bird emerged from the oven glistening and a rich, golden brown, like the glorious totemic beast from the Rockwell painting. Meme didn’t brine her bird, so I have taken a little liberty with this recipe. Let’s just say it’s the spirit of Meme with a dash of revised technique. We have never stuffed the bird in our family, but if the turkey is stuffed, make sure the temperature reaches 160°F in the center of the stuffing. When the stuffed turkey is done, remove it from the oven and let the turkey with stuffing stand for 15 minutes. This standing time allows the stuffing temperature to climb to 165°F, for an added measure of safety.

Many years ago, I needed fresh cèpes for a job. When they were delivered, it was obvious there had been some horrible, grievous misunderstanding. I had ordered two pounds and they had delivered twenty! I called and they promised to pick them up the next day. However, my boss at the time was not the sort to take imperfections lightly. This may sound deceitful, but the truth is, it wasn’t worth trying to explain. I just needed to make them go away. So I had eighteen pounds and over $600 worth of mushrooms to hide—no easy feat! It was like hiding a skunk, a deliciously intoxicating skunk, but a skunk nonetheless.

In the heat of the summer, there’s nothing better for keeping the heat out of the kitchen than firing up the grill. Dede would make his barbecued chicken on the Fourth of July, using a potent vinegar bath on grilled chicken that produced a pungent, meaty odor, sending out billowing clouds of steam and smoke as the chicken cooked on the grill. My sister and I fought to help pack the ice and rock salt in the ice cream machine for homemade peach ice cream. I wasn’t nearly as fond at the time of being given the chore of grating the cheese for the pimento cheese. For many years, my grandparents did not have air-conditioning. Meme would stay up late the night before or wake up very early in the morning and work in the cool, quiet hours of the hot July heat to prepare her portion of the feast. The humming of the fan was often her only company before the house started stirring and the cousins started piling out of bunks and cots.