Fifty Shades of Chicken: A Parody in a Cookbook (16 page)
Read Fifty Shades of Chicken: A Parody in a Cookbook Online
Authors: F.L. Fowler
chicken sliders with thai flavors and sriracha mayonnaise
Sliders
S
lap! Smack! Whack!
He has me in his twitchy palms, kneading me vigorously and slapping me into patties. Each smack of his hand pushes me closer to the edge of my limits.
“Ow!”
“Stamina, Chicken,” he says in a low voice.
It’s not the whacking. I’ve come to crave the safe, warm feeling I get after a good licking. It’s the aromatics that are heating me up.
After all we’ve been through, after all the hot and saucy things he’s done to me, at heart I still long to look like myself, to feel like myself, taste like myself. Despite his talk of ingredient expression, he still seems to be hung up on expressing spices through me.
“Ow! We need to talk.”
He stills his hands, and his expression clouds. I’m no longer afraid of Shifty’s moods, but it still makes me pause.
“I can’t take this, night after night,” I explain. “These strong flavors are wearing me out.”
His face looks pained. “You’re leaving me?”
He still doesn’t get it? I feel exasperation welling. “No, you big paranoid fussbudget. I want the chance to express myself. I want the freedom to be
me.
” I wonder how he feels about losing the cookbook deal.
Oh, Little Booklet.
“These flavors are part of what makes us work so well.” He says this with conviction, but his eyes look vulnerable and slightly scared. Is he really afraid I won’t stick around? Poor, messed-up foodie.
No, stand your ground, Chicken.
“I want more. I want you to want me for my tasty dark meat and succulent white meat. I want you to crisp my skin.”
“I know, hearts and flowers, a big china platter and a carving knife. And then what? Taters, baby?”
I give up. “Stop kidding around and cook me already.”
“Chicken, do you know you’re delicious when you’re angry?”
SERVES 2
1 pound ground chicken, preferably a mix of light and dark meat
1 tablespoon chopped fresh Thai or regular basil
1 tablespoon Asian fish sauce
1 tablespoon finely grated peeled fresh gingerroot
1½ teaspoons light brown sugar
1 lime, zested and juiced
2 scallions, white and green parts, chopped
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 serrano pepper, seeded and finely chopped
½ cup mayonnaise
2 teaspoons Sriracha or other hot sauce, or to taste
2 tablespoons peanut, safflower, or canola oil
6 slider buns
Sliced tomato, for garnish
Sliced avocado, for garnish
Thinly sliced red onion, for garnish
Kosher salt, to taste
1
In a large bowl, massage the chicken with the basil, fish sauce, ginger, brown sugar, lime zest, scallions, garlic, and serrano pepper until she’s thoroughly inundated with them. In a separate bowl, whisk together the mayonnaise, lime juice, and Sriracha.
2
Form the chicken into 6 equal-size patties (each about ¾ inch thick). Heat a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the oil. Cook the patties until the meat is just cooked through, 3 to 4 minutes per side.
3
Spread some of the mayo mixture on the inside of each slider bun and top with burgers. Garnish with tomato, avocado, and red onion. Sprinkle with salt. Enjoy with plenty of napkins.
roasted chicken with hearts of palm, avocado, and orange salsa
Hearts and Flowers
I
’m at rest under a big sheet of foil. My legs and breast are warm and relaxed. My skin is perfectly crisped, my insides are still tingling where his fingers seasoned me. Jeez, does he know how to roast a girl.
I’m slightly suspicious, though. He hasn’t spiced or flavored me, just a quick bath in citrus. This isn’t the Shifty Blades I’ve come to expect.
“Ready?” he asks. There’s something different in his voice.
He whisks the sheet off me with a flourish, and I’m struck completely speechless.
There, in front of me, awaits a china platter garlanded with the most beautiful flowers I’ve ever seen. The table is set with exquisite china and silver flatware. Sweet music is playing on the stereo, the Dixie Chicks, I think. A flute of Cristal glistens in the candlelight. On another plate is a heap of garnishes topped with hearts of palm.
“You wanted hearts and flowers,” he says shyly.
I can’t believe he’s done this.
“Here are the hearts …” He pulls over the plate of hearts of palm.
“And these are the flowers,” I whisper, finishing his sentence. “Oh, Blades, it looks delicious.”
“I think it will be wonderful in our cookbook,” he murmurs. There are tears in his eyes.
Little Booklet?
“I thought the contract was canceled after your editor stole your recipes, blackmailed you, and tried to blow you up.”
“I had another publisher up my sleeve. You don’t think I’d put all my eggs in one basket, do you?”
My Shifty, my Chef. I know deep down I will always be his and he will always be mine.
SERVES 4
Zest of ½ orange
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed orange juice
Zest of 1 lime
2 teaspoons freshly squeezed lime juice
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1¾ teaspoons coarse kosher salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 (3½- to 4-pound) whole chicken, patted dry with paper towels
HEARTS AND FLOWERS SALSA
4 oranges, peeled and diced
2 avocados, peeled, pitted, and diced
1 (7.8-ounce) can hearts of palm, drained and chopped
¼ cup chopped red onion
2 jalapeño peppers, seeded and finely chopped
2 teaspoons freshly squeezed lime juice
Coarse kosher salt
Edible flowers, for garnish
1
In a bowl, whisk together the orange and lime zests and juices, garlic, oregano, ¾ teaspoon salt, and ½ teaspoon pepper. Whisk in the oil.
2
Season the cavity of the chicken with the remaining 1 teaspoon salt and ½ teaspoon pepper. Place the chicken in a large bowl. Pour the marinade over the chicken and turn it slowly, until it is completely bathed in marinade. Chill it, covered, for 1 hour.
3
Preheat the oven to 400°F. Place the chicken, breast side up, in a large roasting pan. Roast until the juices run clear when a sharp knife is thrust into the deepest part of the thigh, about 1 hour to 1 hour and 15 minutes. Let the chicken rest for 10 minutes.
4
While the chicken rests, prepare the salsa. In a bowl, fold together the oranges, avocados, hearts of palm, onion, jalapeños, lime juice, and a large pinch of salt.
5
Carve the chicken into pieces and arrange on a large platter. Spoon the salsa over the chicken and strew the flower blossoms over the plate.
classic roast chicken with herb butter
Chicken
I
could get used to this china platter. And Shifty seems to enjoy the Cristal. We can afford it now that our cookbook is out. It’s become bigger than we ever dreamed, and ebook sales are skyrocketing. We still visit the toy drawer, but Blades has found ways to satisfy himself without it.
Tonight it’s a little French number. He massages butter under my skin, mixed with herbs that smell of the South of France. Then he ties me up and roasts me gently and completely. The butter is so silky and wet. It brings out the essential me, without the fancy dressings and luxurious sauces.
He sighs. “I just love chicken.”
“I love you too, Chef. Always.”
Sometimes a girl just likes to be treated like a chicken.
SERVES
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
2 teaspoons herbes de Provence
1 (3½- to 4-pound) whole chicken
1½ teaspoons kosher salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 small bunch fresh thyme
4 smashed and peeled garlic cloves
1
Preheat the oven to 400°F. In a small bowl, mash together the butter and herbes de Provence. Pat the chicken completely dry with paper towels so that the butter will slide easily along its skin. Massage the chicken inside and out with salt and pepper. Thrust the thyme and garlic deep into the cavity of the chicken.
2
Fill your hand with herb butter and gently slide your fingers beneath the skin of the breast, slathering butter on the flesh. Work your way down to the thighs. Rub additional butter all over the surface of the skin.
3
Tightly truss the chicken according to
the instructions
. The tighter you truss her, the juicier she will be.
4
Place the chicken on a rack set over a rimmed baking sheet. Roast until the thigh juices run clear and the skin is golden, 1 hour to 1 hour and 15 minutes. Cover with foil and let rest 20 minutes before carving.
W
hat the fuck was I thinking? The world isn’t ready for full-on radish cuisine. The radish granita was a hit, but the radish-tini is just too far ahead of its time. Well, one day it will be recognized as a classic. Until then, I’d better get my shit together for the cookbook proposal I’m supposed to write.
As I open the fridge I’m nearly bowled over as a pink cannonball plunges from the top shelf and hits the floor with a dull splat. I roll my eyes and suppress my irritation at this needless disruption in my kitchen.
What’s a chicken doing in my refrigerator anyway? Mrs. Smith is getting careless in her housekeeping. I’ll have to talk to her about following my ingredients lists more precisely. Must I write everything out in capital letters?
