Fifty Shades of Chicken: A Parody in a Cookbook (11 page)
Read Fifty Shades of Chicken: A Parody in a Cookbook Online
Authors: F.L. Fowler
“That culinary cougar warped your palate at such a tender age.” It’s because of her that I feel so imperfect, so dull. She set his standards too high for a mundane fowl. How can I ever measure up?
“You don’t understand. She was an early inspiration, but that was long ago. I create my own preparations now.”
Then why am I staring at her cookbook right now?
I keep quiet, nearly shaking with despair. But I have so many questions waiting to burst out.
“Fine, Miss Hen. Let’s cook without a recipe, shall we?” He shoves the cookbook to the side and lays me out on the butcher block. As always his fingertips find my softest, most delicate parts.
“How do you want to be cooked? Well? You tell me!” His tone is simultaneously challenging and vulnerable.
I take up his challenge.
“Show me how you’d use that,” I say. His eyes widen at my audacious choice. Slowly he picks up the rolling pin at the tip of my outstretched wing.
He drives the heavy pillar into my most sensitive flesh, gently but insistently. The effect is shattering. Jeez, he really is in great shape. My flesh lights up with the pain and secret exhilaration.
My subconscious gives up. She needs a drink.
With the last blow I can contain myself no longer. A plume of raw chicken juice escapes me, hitting the cookbook and spattering Julia in the face.
Oops!
My subconscious smirks and smugly dips her beak into her dirty martini.
SERVES 4 TO 6
1¼ pounds chicken tenders, patted dry with paper towels
½ teaspoon coarse kosher salt
¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
½ cup coconut milk
1 tablespoon red curry paste
½ teaspoon Asian fish sauce or soy sauce
¾ cup roasted, salted cashews
¾ cup unsweetened coconut flakes
¾ cup cornflakes
Lime wedges, for serving
Cilantro sprigs, for serving
1
Preheat the oven to 450° F. Lightly grease a large baking sheet.
2
Using the side of a rolling pin, gently pound the chicken tenders into submission; they should be ¼ inch thick. Season with the salt and pepper.
3
In a wide, shallow bowl, whisk together the coconut milk, curry paste, and fish or soy sauce.
4
In a food processor, pulse together the cashews and coconut flakes until finely chopped. Add the cornflakes and pulse until just blended. Transfer to another wide, shallow bowl.
5
Dip a chicken tender in the coconut mixture, letting the excess drip back into the bowl. Then dip the chicken in the cashew mixture, turning to coat evenly. Transfer the chicken to the prepared baking sheet. Repeat with the remaining chicken.
6
Transfer the chicken to the oven and bake, turning once halfway through, until golden all over, about 10 minutes total. Serve with lime wedges and cilantro.
LEARNING THE ROPES
Tenders are indeed the most tender part of the bird, but you can use boneless skinless breasts cut into ½-inch-wide strips. The pounding is optional, depending upon how much your chicken wants it.
chicken salad with green goddess dressing
Chicken Salad
I
marvel at how much I have I’ve endured—and yes, relished—at those godlike hands. The obscure spices, the laborious preparations, the oohing and aahing over flavors built and textures manipulated, even the recipes with their fussy food-porn photos. It’s all so twisted, but it’s so him. Now it feels so me, too.
My inner goddess dresses herself in a rich, verdant velvet, and spreads herself languorously on a California King–size bed of arugula.
And yet, he’s so fucked up. He claims to respect me, says I’m the most beautiful Ingredient he’s ever known, but he acts as if the beauty of the food were not enough. Why does he always have to take it to some other level? Where will it end?
My subconscious clucks at me, arms crossed over her breast.
Why are you grilling yourself like this? You’ve made your bed.
I pull a face at her. Yes, I have, willingly. I want him to lay me down on that leafy bed every night of every week.
That’s the bottom line. I want to belong to his appetite, to answer his cravings. My inner goddess sighs with relief. It occurs to me that she has a rather small brain, but thinks instead with the moister parts of her anatomy.
“He’s my happy ending,” I whisper. I will be his.
My inner goddess, lounging deliciously on her arugula bed, smiles placidly and returns to her romance novel.
SERVES 4
½ cup sour cream
¼ cup tightly packed watercress leaves
3 tablespoons mayonnaise
2 garlic cloves, roughly chopped
1 anchovy fillet (optional)
1 tablespoon chopped fresh chives
1 tablespoon chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
1 tablespoon chopped fresh basil
1½ teaspoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
½ teaspoon coarse kosher salt
¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
3 cups shredded, cooked chicken meat
Greens or bread, for serving
Toasted sliced almonds, for serving
1
In a blender, combine the sour cream, watercress, mayonnaise, garlic, anchovy if using, chives, parsley, basil, lemon juice, salt, and pepper. Blend until smooth and green.
2
Combine the chicken with enough of the dressing to richly coat it and toss well. Serve the chicken salad over greens that are drizzled with the remaining dressing and sprinkled with almonds, or make it into sandwiches with your favorite bread.
LEARNING THE ROPES
This inner green goddess dressing is also lovely as a dip. Serve it in a bowl surrounded by chips, cut-up veggies, and, if you like, cold slices of cooked chicken.
Livers
T
he door of the Sub-Zero opens, revealing a kitchen filled with people nibbling on canapés and sipping wine.
Ooh, a party.
I’m relieved for once not to be the main course.
Blades appears distracted, chatting with his guests as he reaches for more canapés. Odd, there aren’t any canapés in here. Before I know what’s happening, he reaches discreetly inside me and pulls out my giblets.
Now?
He deftly slides my liver out of its paper envelope, while appearing to focus on his conversation with a talkative fellow holding a napkin.
“Blades, what are you doing?” I whisper urgently.
He doesn’t answer, but looks around the room smiling benignly. He continues to fondle my liver with his fingertips until I can’t stand it.
He gently places my quivering offal into a skillet where some softened onions are waiting for me.
Holy fucking shit…
we’re cooking in the middle of a party? Everyone’s mingling and chatting, but I am not paying attention. He stirs my insides with a deft wooden spoon, around and around.…
I squirm and gasp as I feel a hardening in my heated organ.
“Always so ready, Miss Hen,” he whispers. I make a low hiss of longing. How can he do this with all these people here?
He nonchalantly carries my blushing liver to the food processor.
Oh … how long will he keep escalating this?
It makes me feel so—dirty.
He pulses the machine a few times, whipping me into a soft frenzy. My insides dissolve in ecstasy, my mind a spiral of pure sensation. I can’t hold it together any longer.
B’gawk
, I groan as his long finger continues to hit the pulse button. I’m thankful that the room full of people seems completely oblivious.
He appears to be perfectly composed. This isn’t fair. He calmly spoons me onto toast and takes a long, slow bite, from which it takes me several minutes to recover.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” I giggle.
“You’d be surprised what I can do, Miss Hen.”
No, nothing about Shifty Blades surprises me anymore.
SERVES 6
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 small yellow onion, peeled, halved, and thinly sliced
1 pound chicken livers, patted dry with paper towels and cut in half crosswise
½ teaspoon coarse kosher salt
¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons cream sherry or port wine
½ tablespoon chopped fresh rosemary leaves
6 slices country bread, toasted
Sea salt, for garnish
1
Heat the oil in a large skillet over high heat, then add the onions and let them get brown and oh so tender, about 12 minutes.
2
Add the chicken livers and salt and pepper and reduce the heat to medium; cook until the quivering insides of the livers have lightened from crimson to rosy, about 5 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the livers to a food processor.
3
Turn the heat to high and add the sherry to the skillet with the juices. Cook, scraping up the browned bits, until the juices have thickened, 1 to 2 minutes. Stir in the rosemary.
4
Scrape the mixture into the food processor. Pulse to whip the livers until they are just broken up, but still chunky and wanting more. Spoon the liver mixture over the toast. Sprinkle with sea salt, and consume.
cranberry baked chicken with apple cider
Parts
H
e gives me a conflicted look. My poor Shifty Blades—a domineering home cook who at heart is still a teenager struggling to make a decent bowl of Froot Loops, who feels unworthy of the gastronomy he sees in books and on TV … my lost foodie … it’s heartbreaking.
“Sorry about Julia,” he murmurs.
“I know you feel like you need her and all her recipes and advice. But I don’t think you do. I think you can make your own decisions without her.”
“You’re right,” he says quietly.
Whoa! Breakthrough.
“Really? No Mrs. Child?”
“No more.”
He lays me down in parts on a soft layer of berries. I try to collect myself and let this information infuse. The memory of the time he first cooked me on a bed of cherries fills my mind. That was an eternity ago.
“You are the most beautiful, toothsome, versatile, and cookable food I’ve ever had the good fortune to create with. You’ve never failed me, Chicken. I can’t imagine a meal without you.”
What? What is he saying?
My skin flushes bright red.
“I want to taste you every day of every week. I want you to be more than my Ingredient. I want you to be the center of everything I do from now on. I crave you, Miss Hen.”
“Are you asking me what I think you are?”
“Chicken, will you be my Specialty?”
SERVES 4
1 cup apple cider
½ cup dried cranberries
2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar or white wine vinegar
1 cinnamon stick
1-inch slice peeled fresh gingerroot, smashed with the flat side of a knife
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
3 pounds bone-in, skin-on chicken parts, patted dry with paper towels
1½ teaspoons coarse kosher salt
2 tablespoons cold butter, cut into pieces
Cooked wild rice, quinoa, or couscous, for serving
1
Preheat the oven to 450°F. Combine the cider, cranberries, vinegar, cinnamon stick, and ginger in a saucepan over medium-high heat, and season with the pepper. Bring the liquid to a boil. Lower the heat and simmer until the cranberries are very soft and the liquid is reduced by two-thirds and has a syrupy consistency, about 20 minutes. Discard the cinnamon stick and ginger.
2
Season the chicken with the salt. Lay the parts in a roasting pan, skin side up. Spoon the cranberry mixture over the parts, then dot with the butter. Roast until the chicken parts are browned around the edges and cooked through, about 40 minutes. Serve up with rice, quinoa, or couscous, and enjoy.
