I am fewer than 24 hours into the annual celebration of Passover (or Pesach, for my fellow Yehudim out there) and I'm already tired of Matzah. I know, I know, what's not to like? Matzah is, you know, crunchy, sometimes...and...stuff.
Ok, Matzah is gross. It's a big, dry, flaky, cracker-thingy that manages to create seemingly ex nihilo a mess no matter how careful you are as you eat it. It looks like cardboard, tastes like nothing, and is apparently somewhat dangerous because of the extent to which it expands in one's stomach. Communion-taking readers: this is the bread that Jesus would have been eating at the last supper (the Host), and let me tell you, what a lousy last supper Matzah must have made. It's pretty much the only unpleasant part of Passover, in my book.
Some people enjoy it, but come on. We call it during the seder (the structured Passover meal and service) the "bread of affliction," and frankly, it tastes like it. I know why we eat it, of course; it's to remind us of the urgency with which we fled Egypt when we were slaves, that we did not have time to allow our bread to rise.
The arguments of those who like Matzah generally rest on the idea that you can improve it with things like cheese, butter, chocolate, etc. I CRY FOUL! That may be true, but EVERY OTHER TYPE OF CRACKER WOULD BE BETTER with those things. (Maybe not Cheez-its.)
So.
What am I to do? Not eat it? No! Now that I've had my Matzah in a ritual context, it's time to exercise my competitive epicurean spirit to find ways that Matzah might enhance a recipe, rather than complement it in a mediocre sort of way. I think I found one. Here goes:
Matzah-Crusted, Herb-Stuffed Chicken
I started with 3 boneless, skinless breasts.
Into each I cut a pocket by inserting an 8 inch-long carving knife into the thickest part of the breast. Meanwhile, I sauteed a diced onion with rosemary, thyme, basil, salt and pepper and used my Magic Bullet blender to crumb 2 sheets of whole wheat Matzah with rosemary and parmesan cheese. After letting the onion cool, I stuffed a third into each of my three pieces of chicken.
Next, I heated olive oil in my oniony skillet and seared the chicken for three minutes a side until golden and crisping. I pulled the breasts off the heat and spread about a tablespoon of dijon mustard onto all the surfaces. After dredging each breast in my Matzah crumb mixture, I returned the chicken to the skillet and put the pan in the oven at 350 degrees for about 18 minutes. When the breasts came out, I transferred them to a plate and made a quick sauce in the pan with the drippings, some chicken stock, and white table wine.
This recipe came out spectacularly. I had been hoping that the flaky, crumbly nature of the Matzah would make for a "breading" that would be both tacky and absorbent and I was right. The crust became crispy and took on the full flavor of the mustard and the rosemary while still staying fully attached to the chicken (a challenge when working with regular bread crumbs). The two step cooking process kept the chicken moist and the meat was filled with flavor from the onion and herb stuffing.
This is not just a keeper but one I intend to make again before the end of Passover; it's good, it's easy, and it's kind of fun, stuffing and dressing and dredging the ingredients. Very physical, it feels like you really make it.
Also I burned myself by grasping the handle of my skillet after it had just come out of the oven. I do this frequently, pretty much every time I use skillets in the oven. Let's hope theres no need to fingerprint me anytime soon. Well, for many reasons, really.