So, I frequently choose recipes by buying the meat that's on sale, deciding generally the way in which I want to cook the meat, then Googling the ingredients I have. I prefer certain Food Network chefs, anything from Tastespotting, and much from Epicurious, and roll with what I find.
Tonight, having thawed some chicken thighs and knowing I wanted to braise them, I just typed "chicken" and "braised" into the Tastespotting search bar and found Wine-Braised Chicken with Shallots. I stopped at Whole Foods on the way home from work, completely forgot the pancetta and decided I'd use onion instead of shallots. I already had most of my ingredients at home (a later post will describe what I consider to be a well-stocked kitchen); the herbs and fennel were all I needed and of the latter I purchased way too much. This all added up to some key changes to the recipe.
Out of habit I prepped everything (chopping the veggies takes some time) before beginning to cook. I wasn't under the clock and prefer a leisurely experience - also, though I find braising rather easy I think giving the process all of my attention probably contributed in the past.
Braising is a two-part cooking technique in which the chef dry sears in high heat then finishes slowly and gently in a spiced or flavored liquid at relatively low heat. I feel the process, which I only discovered several months ago, helps a chef to avoid all the potential pitfalls of cooking meat (particularly chicken) such as dryness, toughness, and flavorlessness, while simultaneously allowing the maximum creativity in spicing and bringing out the most delicate character of the meat. As sinew and fibers break down, the meat pulls away in gorgeous, neat slivers, tender to the touch and tongue, and positively imbued with the intended flavors.
Working with my wonderful dutch oven, I seared the chicken (having seasoned it with salt and pepper), sauteed the vegetables, added the wine and broth and tied my herbs into a small linen packet. Now, for this recipe, I decided to focus on bringing out the fennel by using a citrusy sauvignon blanc, reducing the thyme, including the stalks of the fennel bulb in my herb sachet, and in a moment of inspiration added saffron threads.
Finally, because I consider lemon to be fennel's best friend, I added long strips of peel (no pith!) to the mixture just before sending it covered into the oven. I braised for about 45 minutes at 300 degrees. Finally, I removed the chicken and the spices and simmered to reduce the sauce down to a few, savory cups. I served the chicken over rice with the sauce and vegetables on top.
VERDICT: I'm going to consider this dish quite good, not incredible. The flavor was excellent: the whole dish, top to bottom, had a citrusy, tangy flavor; the fennel scent infused the entire dish and the chopped bulb itself was mouth-watering. The chicken flaked away from the bone in long slivers, each juicy bite pregnant with intensity and zest. In a broader sense, I also consider the dish a win because it was so cheap. Even with my hearty appetite, I'm going to get 3 or 4 meals out of the leftovers, and the skinless bone-in chicken (the most expensive ingredient) was very reasonable at only a buck fifty a pound.
Some things I would change (DELTA!): I would have used some egg noodles instead of rice, I might have pulled the chicken off the bone during the last step to make it easier to eat, and I might have added some potato or another starch in order to help thicken the sauce. I'm not going to call this a "go-to" recipe, but it was an excellent use of the ingredients and that's my priority.
The final effect:
