That Chicken Recipe I Promised A While Back...

Rachel here.

So, if you've been reading at all lately then you know I have really strong and fond feelings about "The Family Dinner" by Laurie David and Kirsten Uhrenholdt. And, though summer has decided to finally peak out from behind the clouds here in the Bay Area as of late, I know for many of you--ok, probably MOST of you--thoughts are turning to fall. The recipe I offer today from David and Uhrenholdt's cookbook just oozes fall. It's warm, it's hearty, and it features apples and, whether you're finally basking in the warmth of the sun or giddily lapping up crisp autumn air, it's sure to be a hit.

Did I mention that it's easy? Because it is. And everyone in my family ate it to boot.

Apple Cider Chicken
with Caramelized Onions and Apples

ingredients

1 1/2 cups apple cider
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon chopped fresh rosemary
1 1/2 pounds boneless, skinless organic chicken thighs, trimmed, each piece cut into 2 pieces
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 onions, cut into wedges
3 slices of bacon, chopped
2 tart apples, peel left on, cut into wedges
1 1/2 cups chicken broth
3 tablespoons flour
1/4 cup apple cider vinegar

method (makes 4-6 servings)

In a large bowl, combine the apple cider, salt, rosemary, and chicken. Set aside.
preheat your oven to 350 degrees.
In a large ovenproof nonstick pan, drizzle the olive oil and heat until shimmering. Add the onion wedges and bacon. Saute over medium heat until the onions are wilted and golden. This will take 10-15 minutes. Now add the apples and saute until they start to soften around the edges and get a bit of color as well, about 5 minutes.
Meanwhile, drain the chicken, reserving the apple cider for later. Toss the chicken pieces in the flour.
Remove the apples and onions from the pan. If you need to, add a drizzle of olive oil to the same pan. Over medium heat, lightly brown the chicken. You might have to do this in two batches.
When all the chicken is golden, add the apple cider vinegar and the reserved apple cider. Stir well, add the chicken stock, bring back to a simmer, and then pile the apples and onions on top (this is just vanity--the dish looks better this way).
Stick the pan in the oven for about 10 minutes or until the chicken is no longer pink.

Fake It Til You Make It

One recipe is an anomaly. Two suggests a pattern. Three and you're full on into a lifestyle, which is why we decided that the third post by our friend Susan involving a "fake" recipe, ie a recipe that isn't entirely from scratch, deserves a nickname. And so it is that we introduce Susan, Miss Fake It Til You Make It.

I need to make one thing clear immediately: All three of these recipes have been very tasty. It's just that Susan is the same friend who literally went into my freezer one night while having dinner at my house and pulled out a container of Cool Whip and proclaimed to the seated group something like, "AHA! I KNEW this wasn't real whipped cream!!!" And she has brought that story up more than once while enjoying a tasty meal at my home with others.

It was scarring.

So I have found it, um, ironic that she's perfectly fine with faking it with her desserts. Curious, don't you think? I will also add that Susan brought a cake plate to display her "fake" recipe for the blog photo. So presentation is important but having all real ingredients is apparently not.

Anyway, here's the latest in Susan's fake cooking life. I have eaten more of these than is healthy and plan to make them one day soon for sure. You'll like them, too, and you don't have to tell anyone that the whole thing didn't take you hours in the kitchen. :)

(If you want to see Miss Fake It Til You Make It's other recipes, click here for Fake Cake and here for fake turtles candy.

Apple Streusel Cheesecake Bars

ingredients
1 pouch Betty Crocker oatmeal cookie mix
1/2 cup firm butter or margarine
2 packages (8 oz ea) cream cheese
1/2 cup sugar
2 tablespoons flour
1 teaspoon vaniilla
1 egg
1 can apple pie filling or 1-2 granny smith apples, diced
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 cup chopped walnuts


method
Heat oven to 350 degrees.

Spray 13x9 in pan with cooking spray.
Place cookie mix in food processor. Cut in butter until the mixture is crumbly. Reserve 1 1/2 cups of the crumbs; press the remaining mixture in the bottom of the pan. Bake for 10 mins.

Meanwhile, beat the cream cheese, sugar, flour, vanilla and egg until smooth. Spread the cream cheese mixture over the partially baked crust. Mix the apples with cinnamon (and a little sugar if using real apples). Spoon the apple mixture over the cream cheese. Sprinkle with reserved crumbs and nuts.

Bake 35-40 minutes or until light golden brown. Cool for 30 min. Then refrigerate to chill and store.

Caramelized-Apple Skillet Cake

Rachel here: John's best friend is visiting us this week, an arrival which was conveniently timed with Cake Week. To be honest, when John and I are left on our own with a cake we will eat the entire thing without any difficulty and so it's really best for us when somebody else arrives on the scene to lend a helping hand. Usually my cake repertoire fluctuates between vanilla and chocolate variations but, it being Cake Week and all, I figured I'd push myself a little bit and try a new type. What I ended up with was a cake that was not too sweet, had a little bit of yummy crunch (there's cornmeal involved), and seems like the perfect accompaniment to a cup of tea. Plus, I kind of felt like Ma Ingalls because the entire thing is baked in a cast iron skillet. I got the recipe from Karen Demasco's The Craft of Baking. I didn't follow her recipe exactly because it's a little finicky and it was late in the evening when I started, but I did followed the majority of her guidelines. What I will post below is my rendition. The three of us thoroughly enjoyed this cake. I will note, though, that it was much lighter and fluffier the first day (as opposed to the second, though it was still completely edible).


Ingredients
1 c. sugar
8 T. butter, unsalted and soft
1-2 tart baking apples (I ended up only using one very large Granny Smith)
3/4 tspn. vanilla extract
2 large eggs, separated
3/4 c. plus 3 T. all-purpose flour
3 T. coarse yellow cornmeal
1 1/2 tspn. baking powder
1/4 tspn. kosher salt
1/3 c. whole milk (I'm confident that you can use whatever kind of milk is convenient)

Method
Preheat your oven to 350 degrees. In an 8-inch ovenproof skillet (I'd use cast iron if at all possible), combine 1/4 c. of the sugar with 2 T. of water. Stir to make sure all of the sugar is damp, adding more water if needed. Over high heat and stirring occasionally, cook the sugar and water until the sugar turns a golden brown caramel. Supposedly this takes about 2 minutes. Mine never turned a beautiful golden brown, though, and after 4 minutes I just stopped. My cake was totally fine. Remove the pan from the heat and whisk in 2 T. of the butter. Do this step very quickly as the addition of butter helps stop the sugar from solidifying. If the sugar solidifies, add a T. of water and return to the heat for a few seconds to soften everything back up before adding the butter. (Can you tell I struggled with this step?) Peel and core your apple, cutting it into 1/8 inch slices. Starting at the outside of the skillet, tightly shingle the apple pieces until the entire skillet is filled. In the bowl of an electric mixer (or by hand) fitted with the paddle attachment, combine the remaining sugar, butter and the vanilla. Beat until light and fluffy before mixing in the egg yolks one at a time. Then stir in the milk. In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, cornmeal, baking powder and salt. Dump this into your wet ingredients in the electric mixer and mix until just combined. Turn this batter out into the bowl you whisked the dry ingredients together in. Clean and dry the electric mixing bowl. Add the eggs whites to the bowl and beat into soft peaks. Fold the whipped whites into your batter. Spread batter evenly over the apples in the skillet. Bake, rotating halfway through, for approximately 50 minutes. The top will be a dark golden brown and feel pretty firm to the touch. Cool in the skillet on a wire rack for about 30 minutes before loosening the edges and turning over onto a plate. Serve and enjoy.

Food for Thought Thursdays: My Pie Crust Phobia

As with most things, it's one, if not both, of your parents' faults. This is true for everything from why you can't stay in relationships to why your nose is clearly bigger than you'd prefer. What the "it" is, doesn't really matter.

So it is that I blame my father for my fear of making pie crust. An expert baker, my dad was the pie baker in our family; my mother wisely decided not to compete after sitting through a famous family moment in which my father and his mother — also apparently a great pie baker, although I don't remember sampling her wares — had a pie bake-off. They each baked a pie and then my mother, luckly lady, was among those asked to pick the best one. Talk about the proverbial family win-win. I'm not sure how she weaseled out of it, but she did — and she never, not once, not ever, baked a pie for our family. Quel surprise!

My dad's pies were the stuff of dreams. He mostly made them annually for Thanksgiving since he worked all the time and frequently came home after I went to bed at night. His apple pies were at least six or seven inches high, no joke, while his pumpkin pies were delectable. But while the fillings were terrific, it was all about the crust, which was buttery and simultaneously light and doughy at the same time. Post-holiday, my sister and I usually ate the pies for breakfast for as long as they lasted, which wasn't long, believe me.

Now while I pride myself on being a good cook and a damn fine baker, I'm no fool. I'm not competing unless I think I have a shot, and as long as my dad was alive, I wouldn't even enter the starting gate. That fear lingered long after my father was dead, indeed until this past Thanksgiving when I decided, at Rachel's urging, to make a pie crust from scratch.

I finally realized — aging really does make you wiser — that my fear wasn't about making a bad pie crust; my worry was that I might make a good pie crust and therefore somehow shatter the myth behind my father, a myth that has helped keep him alive and with me somehow even though he's been dead for over 20 years. It was a silly worry, of course. As I stood at the counter before Thanksgiving kneading and rolling the dough, I actually felt as if he was there with me. I only wish I'd done it sooner.