Pan-roasted chicken with tomatoes and olives

While there are advantages to being the younger sibling (parents are more lax, you don't have to babysit anyone, and you can usually learn from your older sib's social and fashion mistakes), there are disadvantages too. For one thing, you're rarely the first to do something. You pretty much have to watch your older sibling give something a go, and then later, sometimes much later, depending on your age difference, try it yourself. Second, hand-me-downs. And third, your tastes are often overrun by your older brother or sister.

My sister was very nice to me growing up, especially considering that we are four years apart and she could have completely ignored me. Rather, she would frequently include me when she and her friends played together. Our favorite activity in elementary school was dressing up as vampires and roller skating around the neighborhood--a game wittily named, you might have guessed, "Roller Skating Vampires." Since I was the littlest, I was cast as Baby Vampire, a role I like to think I played with great aplomb.

But she did dominate me in the food department, particularly when it came to pizza. We would always,  always get olives and salami as toppings.

I don't know why I didn't speak up more, but I never liked either olives or salami. I would have much preferred sausage or mushrooms or even what passed for exotic in the 80s--Hawaiian pizza bearing canned pineapple and Canadian bacon. So for many years, probably until I reached junior high, I did not like pizza, because I associated it with olives and salami, two ingredients I found overbearingly salty.

I did eventually come around to pizza, but it took me longer to like olives and salami. Salami, I realized at some point in high school, was pretty good, but only cold. I still don't like it hot. Olives began to interest me in my 20s, when I discovered there were actually countless varieties, the majority of which are not shiny and black, and do not come in cans.

Now I eat olives all the time. I like mild, pale green ones stuffed with blue cheese, inky purple kalamatas, and my favorite: wrinkled oil-cured olives. They are delicious plain, or served alongside some Cowgirl Creamery Mt. Tam cheese. Or, they provide a fabulous, salty bite to pan-roasted chicken with rosemary and cherry tomatoes.

Pan-roasted chicken with rosemary, cherry tomatoes and olives
Adapted from Marcella Hazan's Marcella Cucina

8 pieces of chicken (I use thighs)
2  T olive oil
2 t. minced rosemary
4-5 whole peeled garlic cloves
1/4 t. red pepper flakes (or to taste)
1/2 c. white wine
24 cherry tomatoes
12 oil-cured black olives
salt and pepper

Sprinkle both sides of the chicken with salt and pepper.

In a large skillet that can accommodate all the chicken pieces, heat oil, rosemary, and garlic over medium-high heat. Once the rosemary and garlic begin to fry, add the chicken pieces, skin-side down. Brown well on one side, then turn and brown the other, about 5 minutes per side. Add red pepper and toss the entire contents of the pan.

Add the wine and scrape the pan as it bubbles away. Turn the heat down to low, cover the pan, and cook for about 25-30 minutes, stirring occasionally. If at any time there seems to be insufficient liquid, add a few tablespoons of water.

When the chicken is done (it should be nearly falling off the bone, according to Marcella, although I stop cooking it before it reaches this stage), add the tomatoes and the olives. Cook for another minute or two until the tomatoes burst. Serve at once with rice or polenta.

A hiatus, a flop, and a winner

What a bad blogger I am! A week goes by and I've got nothing for you. Not even a photo. In my defense, a few things have contributed to my empty-handedness. One, our oven died. For those of you who live in hot places, an oven crapping out in the summer would be no big deal. Here, where it's coldest in July (I just walked the dog wearing my wool beanie), I use the oven a ton in the summer. Turns out it will take 2-3 weeks to get fixed. I guess this is what it takes for me to quit eating so much cake.

We also spent part of the week at my mom's house while she is on vacation. Where she lives is warm and flat and there are no stairs to carry the dog up and down. It's an exceedingly nice place to visit, although living in suburbia is not for me.

Although I did some cooking while we were there, I neglected to document any of it. The one thing I did make that I hoped to blog about, some little berry shortcakes for the 4th of July, didn't turn out well, and the photo was a joke (I'm nothing without my EGO light). The biscuits were flat and dry, and that was all there was to the recipe. Mixing berries with a few tablespoons of sugar does not really add up to baking. I enjoyed the whipped vanilla cream though.

I do have a winner to announce from last week's contest. I loved all of your comments, as always, and would have liked to send each of you that gift certificate. But ultimately, I chose the response that my mind kept returning to. DS wrote:

"As in the example of Midnight’s Children, this may not count as a food-related book, but I always think of the decadent and nostalgic description of coffee in George Orwell’s 1984. I love coffee. And if I found myself in an apocalyptic age, I might also consider risking my life for real coffee, bread and sugar. When I’m brewing a cup, I often think of Orwell’s coffee description and how grateful I am that while we may not have a single-payer universal health care plan, our government has yet to impose “Victory Coffee” and saccharine on the masses. For Orwell, coffee is so good that in his imagined autocratic state, it was considered contraband."

Full disclosure, DS is a friend of mine in real life. But that's not why I chose her response. I just found it to be very thoughtful and intelligent (like DS herself) and it did make me want to reread 1984. Not a food book, but still. I almost didn't choose DS because it seems like you're not supposed to pick your friend as the winner. But, doesn't that seem discriminatory in its own way? And hell, it's my blog. So congratulations, Deborah, the gift certificate is yours.

And happy weekend to you all!

A book, a cake, and a giveaway

First off, I've got a giveaway for you! This one is particularly good, because the prize is a $60 gift certificate to CSN stores, where you can find any number of fabulous kitchen goodies. Yes, that means if you win, you can buy whatever your hungry little heart desires. The sales rep appealed to my vanity by telling me I was a preferred blogger based on the success of my previous giveaway.  So here I am, plugging their website, mostly for you but a little for me.

More about the giveaway in a moment. I also want to talk about a book, and a cake.

I recently read Molly Wizenberg's A Homemade Life. I'm sure this book needs no introduction to most of you; she's every blogger's envy. Who doesn't want their humble blog to take off like wildfire and lead to a book, a  column in Bon Appetit, and her very own restaurant?

I enjoyed the book, although I've never gotten hooked on Wizenberg's blog, Orangette. I know I'm in the minority here. It's probably more a reflection of my idiotic need to resist what has been deemed great by the masses than anything else. But I was hesitant about the book for other reasons: I'm still young enough to be skeptical of someone younger than me writing a memoir. But she pulls it off neatly enough. I can't say I liked the book as much as some other food-related books I've read, like Heat or  The Sweet Life in Paris, but I finished it. That means something, because I'm not afraid of putting a book down and walking away forever. You might think this is terrible, but I see it as cutting my losses. I already have to work for a living; shouldn't the rest of my time be spent doing things that are fun?

Beyond the writing, a sensible test for a book like this is: do the recipes work? Wizenberg doesn't plug A Homemade Life as a cookbook, but sprinkled throughout are lots of recipes, some of them unusual, and many of them delicious-sounding. I decided to give her  chocolate cake a try.

The cake only calls for five ingredients, which wooed me right away. And it didn't require anything being at room temperature, which made it possible for me to throw it together on a whim the other night as I was heating up leftovers for dinner. Nothing gets you through a plate of reheated roast chicken like the promise of warm chocolate cake for dessert.

The cake turned out very nicely indeed, although I underbaked it by a sliver. For my taste (and the husband's) it was a little too gooey. Next time I'd let it go another 2-3 minutes. But it was delicious nonetheless and pushed over the edge of decency with a scoop of coffee ice cream. I shall certainly be making this simple, rich cake again.

Now, for the giveaway. Tell me what your favorite food-related book is and why. Don't forget to be clever, because I will be judging you, fiercely. Winner gets a $60 gift certificate to CSN. Ready? Go.

Molly Wizenberg's chocolate cake
From A Homemade Life

7 oz. bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped (I used a combination of bittersweet and semisweet)
1 3/4 sticks (7 oz) unsalted butter, cut into 1/2" cubes
1 c. plus 2 T. granulated sugar
5 large eggs
1 T. flour
Lightly sweetened whipped cream, for serving (or ice cream)

Preheat the oven to 375 and butter an 8-inch round cake pan. Line the bottom of the pan with a round of parchment paper and butter the paper, too.

Put the chocolate and butter in a medium microwavable bowl. Microwave on high for 30 seconds at a time, stirring often, until just smooth. Alternatively (this is what did),  melt the chocolate and butter in a double boiler or heatproof bowl set over, but not touching, barely simmering water. When the mixture is smooth, add the sugar, stirring well to incorporate. Set the batter aside to cool for 5 minutes. Then add the eggs one by one, stirring well after each addition. Add the  flour and stir to mix well. The batter should be dark and silky.

Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for about 25 minutes, or until the top is lightly crackled, the edges are puffed, and the center of the cake looks set. Molly recommends setting the timer for 20 minutes to start with and then checking the cake every two minutes after until it's done. She says: "At 20 minutes, the center of the cake is usually still quite jiggly; you'll know it's done when the center only jiggles slightly, if at all. " I took mine out after 25 and wished I'd left it a bit longer; it will depend on your oven and how gooey you like your cake.

Remove the cake from the oven to a cooling rack and let it cool in the pan for 15 minutes. Carefully turn it out using the following method: Place a sheet of aluminum foil over the pan and place a large, flat plate (not the serving plate) on top of the foil, facing down. Hold the cake pan and plate firmly together and quickly flip them. The pan should now be on top of the cake with the foil between them. Remove the pan, revealing the upside-down cake. Peel off the parchment paper. Place the serving plate atop the cake, flip and remove the foil. Cool completely before serving (or don't.)