Poultry

Squab is the best bird for this—in fact it’s one of the best eating birds there is—but it’s expensive and not easy to come by. If you use quail instead, you’ll need eight birds (one is not enough for even a light eater). If you use Cornish game hens, you’ll need only two. Note the simple finishing “sauce” of salt and pepper mixed together. In Vietnam, this is more common than salt alone. See page 500 for information on fish sauces like nam pla and nuoc mam.

Escabeche (see also pages 235 and 350) is a great way to flavor food, by marinating it after it’s cooked rather than before. The cooked chicken (in this case) is bathed in an aromatic marinade. The soaking need not be long, but since the dish is best served at room temperature (it makes a good picnic option), you should plan to wait a while between cooking and eating. Use this as part of a picnic or buffet.

You can make arroz con pollo, the Caribbean specialty, fast or slow. For weeknights, go with the stripped-down variation. But when you have a little time—and you don’t need much—make the full-chicken stock for extra flavor, and saffron for best color and complexity. If you don’t have stock, don’t worry too much. Since the chicken and vegetables are cooking in the liquid, the dish will taste good even if you make it with water. A few slices of tomatoes would go well here, or any salad you like. You don’t need much to round out this meal.

A classic Sicilian preparation, with exotic, contrasting flavors. Domesticated rabbit is sold in many supermarkets these days, but since it really does taste like chicken, you can use that if you prefer. Either way, start the meal with a simple pasta dish or serve this with bread and a cooked vegetable.

A dark, fairly intensely flavored stew that is best made with rabbit (or, traditionally, hare), but is quite good with chicken.You can make the entire dish in advance and let it rest at room temperature for a few hours before reheating (or cover and refrigerate overnight). This is lovely just with crusty bread, or with any potato dish.

This variation of Biryani (preceding recipe) is spicier, creamier, and somewhat more complicated. Go easy on the cayenne: this is meant to be a fragrant dish, not a fiery one. Serve with Dal (page 433) or any Indian-style vegetable.

When you open the lid of a pot containing good biryani—the Indian equivalent of arroz con pollo or paella—the smell should drive you wild: chicken (or lamb), butter, and spices should dominate, followed by the subtle aroma of basmati rice. When it’s prepared correctly, it seems to me, you can even smell the salt. This is one of India’s—indeed the world’s—great dishes, and yet too often in restaurants it is underwhelming, underspiced, and made without care. The spice mixture makes the dish exotic, but though it must be made carefully it isn’t difficult. (The chicken isn’t browned, which actually makes it easier than many similar preparations.) One key is to use real butter (in sufficient quantity; I’m sure the ultimate biryani has more butter than this version) and good spices: cardamom in the pod, whole cloves, cinnamon stick, and real saffron. Good coarse salt doesn’t hurt either and, needless to say, the better the chicken, the happier you’ll be when you bite into it. It’s also important to leave the lid on as much as possible. I’m not one of these people who believes that rice must be cooked undisturbed (on the contrary, I think it stands up to all kinds of abuse), but in this instance you want to make sure the chicken cooks fairly quickly and that as much of the aroma as possible remains in the pot. The goal, remember, is to smell everything. Serve with Dal (page 433) or any Indian-style vegetable.

You cannot make “authentic” tandoori chicken without a tandoor, the clay oven closely associated with Indian cooking and used to make many of that country’s wonderful breads. But you can replicate the seasonings and grill or broil it so that it becomes very similar to the original. It isn’t difficult, and it’s really rewarding. Most tandoori chicken gets its bright red color from food coloring, but some cooks use a mild chile powder or a healthy dose of paprika, and that’s what I do here. Nice with Tomato Salad with Ginger (page 173) or Panfried Spicy Potatoes with Eggplant (page 476). Equally good with Paratha (page 559) or even plain rice.

Koreans are big on sesame seeds, and they’re big on marinating. They’re also big on big flavors, as this wonderful grilled chicken demonstrates. You can buy pretoasted sesame seeds and even sesame seed powder at Korean markets, something you might consider if you become addicted to this cuisine; but toasting them takes no time at all. If you’re really feeling energetic, serve this with Potato Pancakes with Scallions and Kimchi (page 474). But plain white rice and a salad would also be fine, especially if the salad were made with seaweed, like the one on page 200 (omit the chicken or shrimp).

Dark, glazed, and bittersweet, this is another marvel of simple cooking from Southeast Asia. It takes no longer than a classic European chicken sauté, yet when you make it you will impress not only your guests but yourself. You can stop after step 2 and have a Thai-style dish, which is good, or proceed to step 3 and have one of the best Vietnamese-style chicken dishes you’ve ever tasted. Either way, serve with rice. For information on Thai fish sauce (nam pla), see page 500.

A near no-brainer, as long as you have Tomato-Chipotle Salsa on hand. Even if you don’t, not a lot of trouble, and one of the best grilled chicken recipes I know. See the variations for an even faster way to make this and one that works as an appetizer. Don’t serve this, however, to people who do not like hot food. There is no taming chipotles, though most people find them delicious. You need rice here; Arroz a la Mexicana (page 517) would be ideal. Some slices of (cooling) avocado would be welcome as well.

No one does grilled chicken better than in Southeast Asia, where it seems to come straight from heaven. The key ingredients were all exotic and hard to find here just ten years ago, but now you can make this routinely. Once you try it, you probably will. This is wonderful teamed with Sticky Rice (page 508) and Green Papaya Salad (page 174). But it’s fine with any rice dish and vegetable, too, because it is really a star.

From Southeast Asia via New York, a recipe based on one developed by my sometime coauthor and longtime Asian hand, Jean-Georges Vongerichten. Included here not because it is “authentic” in the true sense but because the flavor is truly Thai and it’s among the best Thai-inspired chicken recipes I know. Serve it with Sticky Rice (page 508). For information on Asian fish sauces like nam pla, see page 500.

Slightly more complicated than the French version on page 303, resulting in more tender meat but less crisp skin. I’d make this with leg and thigh pieces rather than including breasts—which almost invariably dry out during braising—but the choice is yours. The sauce will keep things relatively moist in any case. This is great with risotto (page 521) and a vegetable dressed with good olive oil.

I have never seen this wonderful stew appear in any other cuisine, but it is a great one, the brininess of the clams vastly improving the taste of the chicken. This dish is often served with Peasant-Style Potatoes (page 477).

This tagine is similar to the preceding Chicken and Lentil Tagine but, with the addition of dates and vanilla, far more exotic. My version of this tagine may not compare with those that begin with toasting and grinding spices and peeling grapes, but it’s easily executed (especially since the chicken is not browned first, which spares the cook a fair amount of time and energy) and, I think, quite divine. Some things to look out for: First, work with dark meat chicken only. In Morocco, the breast might be propped up out of the way so it almost steams and remains moist, but this is impractical without a special pot (also called a tagine). Be aware that tagines are on the dry side, so don’t add liquid to the sauce unless it’s threatening to burn. Home-cooked chickpeas and fresh tomatoes are, of course, preferable to the canned varieties, but in this dish the differences are not marked. Do, however, use a vanilla bean. If all you have is vanilla extract, omit the vanilla entirely.

A tagine is the name of both a stew and the pot it’s served in. A North African specialty, it differs from other stews primarily in its sweet spicing. This one, featuring chicken, is bright yellow and alluring. Serve it with rice, warmed pitas, or crusty bread.

This soupy rice and chicken stew is a cousin to Arroz con Pollo and Paella (pages 293 and 520), but it’s much looser, and you must eat it right away; otherwise, the rice will absorb too much of the liquid and the stew will lose its soupy texture. For the ham, it’s best to buy a thick slice and cut it into chunks; you don’t want shreds of thinly sliced ham. Very lean bacon or a piece of smoked pork will work nicely too. Some ideas for varying this dish: Don’t add the chopped tomatoes, but put them in the bottom of each bowl before adding the soup; garnish with chopped fresh avocado; add fresh lime juice, onion, or chopped fresh cilantro leaves to taste, just before serving; or serve with chopped chiles in adobo (from a can) or Tomato-Chipotle Salsa (page 611).

The Philippines is not renowned for its cuisine, but chicken adobo is the well-known exception. The basic idea is this: You poach chicken in a mixture of diluted soy sauce, vinegar, and spices until it’s just about done, and then you grill or broil it. Before serving, the poaching liquid is boiled until reduced (thus eliminating any fears of bacterial contamination) and used as a sauce; it’s delicious over rice. If you know you are going to make the dish a day or two before eating it, you can poach the chicken in advance and refrigerate it, in or out of its liquid, until you’re ready, then proceed with the recipe. But because the grilling or broiling time will be a little longer than if you proceed without stopping—the cold chicken must heat through—you should use slightly lower heat to avoid burning. Serve this with plain white rice.

A basic spicy braised dish (non-Indians might call it a curry) that can be varied as you like (a couple of ideas follow the main recipe) and can also be made with lamb, pork, or seafood. Though it is traditionally made quite hot in its northern India home (as much food there is), you can reduce the number of chiles to one for a much milder version or increase them if your tastes run that way. Because the chicken is not browned, the dish is relatively easy to make; you can remove its skin if you like, because without the browning it adds nothing. I love this with a Paratha (page 559) but that might be too much work; it’s delicious with any rice dish also.