String-Roasted Chicken

My experience in roasting over fire, admittedly limited, was with putting the meat on a spit and having someone sit around it for a while turning the spit.  Nice, fun to look at a demonstration, but tough to keep at it well.  Even the books I have read and the historical kitchens I've visited had spit roasting only.

So imagine my surprise and delight when I came across this book, The Magic of Fire by William Rubel at the Autry Museum in Los Angeles. 

ISBN  1-58008-453-2

On page 62 is the introduction to String Roasting:

"When it comes to hearthside roasting, the elegant solution is to roast from a loop of cotton string hanging from a hook, a practice that lasted well into the nineteenth century.  Today, it is only in France that the system the French call a la ficelle -- on a string -- remains more than a historical curiosity."

I had a Cornish Game Hen that I wanted to try.  I reasoned I wanted a small one for my experiment so it wouldn't take too long to cook.

To summarize the instructions:

   You need a mature fire with a substantial bed of embers. 
   Truss the meat so it is as compact and as symmetrical as possible.
   Skewer the upper and lower thirds of the meat so that the skewers are parallel and at the center of   
       the meat.

On a stick!

   Hang a string from above the hearth or firepit and tie a loop in the end.  The length should get the
       meat pretty close to the embers.
   Make a loop of string and place on part on the skewer, pass the other end through the hanging loop,
       and then over the other side of the skewer.
   Adjust until the meat hangs vertically, without tilting.  Press the loops against the meat.
   Give the meat a spin.

A whirling dervish

   Put a drip pan under the bird and add 1 cup water.
   Baste the meat as needed.

Getting golden

   When the lower part looks done, flip the meat by moving the string to the lower skewer.

Flipped

 Let the meat rest for 10 minutes when done.

 My Notes
I used a technique I learned a few years ago from Gervase Markham's The Complete Housewife (published in the late 1590s) for spit roasting:  he suggests you coat the bird with butter and then with dried bread crumbs.  At first you have to baste it with butter and the drippings but after a little while the bread crumbs have soaked up enough fat to take over the basting themselves.

So what I have here is a chicken that is self-turning and self-basting.  A Renaissance cook's dream come true!

This bird hung over the fire for about four hours.  It should have taken maybe one hour.  My fire was hot but I think the bird was too high above it to get enough heat to cook it to a decent internal temperature.

I liked that the outside was getting golden brown even at the top before it was flipped.  That kept me for worrying that the meat was going bad.

But after four hours I decided to finish it off in a Dutch oven.  I put it and the drippings into the oven with a bit of water then covered it.  Once over the fire I turned it occasionally until it was hot and cooked through.

The Verdict
This has to be labeled as a failure because I was not able to cook the bird completely even in four hours.  However I believe the fault was mine in not getting the fire hot enough or hanging the bird low enough over it.  This is the same error I made the first time I tried spit roasting a chicken -- and the second attempt with the needed corrections worked beautifully. 

So I will give it a failure rating but tell you that it was partially successful because the meat was tender and moist and flavorful.  I did not use any seasonings, just butter and breadcrumbs, and yet everyone who tried commented on how succulent and tasty it was.

I look forward to trying it again some time.  Now I have a better idea of what to do and how to do it.

Crêpes Ménagère -- Country Style Pancakes

This month's country:  France!  It occurred to me that I have never made crêpes despite having enjoyed them once in Carcassonne, France, a lovely medieval city near the Mediterranean:

http://europeanhistory.boisestate.edu/images/cities/carcassonne2.jpg

So I dusted off my French cookbook, Gourmet's Basic French Cookbook by Louis Diat, published in 1968, and read in detail about them. 

See page 428

Mssr. Diat points out that "Carnaval -- the period between January 6, Epiphany, and Ash Wednesday -- is the season in France for eating crêpes and beignets."  Since this year's Ash Wednesday falls in March, I realized this is the perfect time for me to give it a go.

He also mentions that 

     Making crêpes over the open fire was part of the fun at the party honoring the  
     unmarried girls -- a party always held on the second Thursday preceding Ash
     Wednesday.  Each girl had to make a crêpe and toss it successfully to brown the other
     side -- not an easy thing to do without practice.  But according to the superstition,
     unless a girl could pass the test, she would never get a husband.  After all, what man
     would be so foolish as to marry a girl who couldn't make perfect crêpes?

Oh dear, how could my upbringing have been so deficient?  Now I truly have to make this happen.

Crêpes Ménagère  -- Country Style Pancakes

Sift together 1 cup flour, 2 tablespoons sugar, and 1/4 teaspoon salt.  Beat in gradually with a wire whip 3 beaten eggs.  Add 1 1/4 cups milk and a little vanilla, rum, or brandy.  Mix the batter until it is smooth, strain it through a fine sieve, and let it stand for 2 hours.  Brown the crêpes on both sides, arrange them on a hot serving dish, and sprinkle them with powdered sugar, or serve them with maple syrup or honey or spread them with jelly or marmalade and roll them.

The salt is incognito

Mssr. Diat gives us his words of wisdom and experience, too. 

"Whatever the recipe you use, I caution you not to beat the batter too eagerly; overbeating results in toughness."

"... be sure to use a skillet with a bottom heavy enough to hold the heat well and distribute it evenly. ... Use a pan just the size of the crêpe you wish to make."

"Butter the hot pan lightly; brush melted butter on the pan with a pastry brush, or if you like, run the end of a stick of butter over the pan."

"The amount of better determines the thickness of the crêpe; ... Generally, 1 1/2 tablespoons of batter will be enough for a 5-inch crêpe."

"When the butter is very hot, pour in the batter all at once and quickly lift the pan from the heat and tilt it with a circular motion so that the batter coats the pan evenly and forms a perfect round crêpe. ... the batter should spread before it begins to set."

"The crêpe browns quickly; the top side will begin to look dry in less than 2 minutes.  Lift the edge of the crêpe with a spatula to make sure that the bottom is browned, and quickly flip it over.  Never turn the crêpe more than once." 

My Notes

I thought I had mixed the batter until smooth -- it looked smooth and felt smooth.  But when I poured it through the sieve, it was astonishing how many little lumps were there.  I was grateful for the straining advice.

My daughter and I worked on cooking the crêpes as a team and that was wonderful.  We used a cast iron fry pan whose bottom was about 6 inches across.

At first we were experimenting to find the right amounts of butter and batter, so the first few crêpes were less than interesting.  Here's what we learned:

This was too much butter because the batter didn't stick to the pan well during the swirling part.  We were rubbing the pan with a stick of butter and next time we will use a pastry brush dipped into melted butter.  We didn't have to butter the pan each time.

It was helpful to have a little plastic scoop that allowed us to pour the batter in all at once after we got skilled at the right amount.

This is us swirling the batter.  We lifted the pan off the heat, poured in the batter, and started swirling immediately, trying to cover the entire bottom:

This is just the right amount of batter, about 3 to 4 tablespoons.  The crêpe is nearly ready to flip.  It looks dry all over when it is ready:

And here is a flipped crêpe:

 Most of what was made.  Except for the ones we taste-tested!

The Verdict

Success!  This was A LOT simpler to make than either one of us thought it would be.  We didn't need any special equipment and the recipe was simple to make and with easy-to-obtain ingredients.  They cooked quickly and were easy to handle.  They didn't even stick to each other in the cloth!

On top of it all, they were very tasty -- a little eggy, a little sweet, and particularly good with either a sprinkling of cinnamon sugar or about a teaspoon of Nutella.  We are discussing making a savory filling of cooked beef and onions with a little cheesy white sauce to moisten it.  

We are proud to say we both managed to flip a crêpe in the pan and catch it!  We learned that to do this, the crêpe had to be well-cooked so it didn't stick when we tried to flip it.  So now we think that is a great technique to test if it is truly cooked enough.

P.S.  I was curious about the history of crêpes (this type is 20th century) and found a little note on this website:

     On February 2 crêpes are offered in France on the  holiday known as Fête de la
     Chandeleur, Fête de la Lumière, or “jour des crêpes”.  Not only do the French eat a lot
     of crêpes on this day, but they also do a bit of fortune telling while making them.  It is
     traditional to hold a coin in your writing hand and a crêpe pan in the other, and flip the
     crêpe into the air.  If you manage to catch the crêpe in the pan, your family will be
     prosperous for the rest of the year.

So I wish you a happy Fête de la Chandeleur and many caught crêpes!

Romania -- Chicken with Pomegranate Juice

Here is an intriguing book:  The Medieval Kitchen by Redon, Sabban, and Serventi.  The ISBN is 978-0226706856.  

It brings us recipes from medieval France and Italy, which had some different ingredients available than the same time period in England.  Romania is listed on page 88, in the chapter "Meats Cooked in Sauce".  They mention that both sweet and sour pomegranates were available and this recipe called for the sour variety.  Since those aren't available in my area, they recommend adding some lemon juice to brighten the flavor.

Romania -- Chicken with Pomegranate Juice

1 free-range chicken, about 3 1/4 pounds
2 fresh pomegranates
1 cup unblanched almonds
1 medium large onion
2 ounce fresh pork fatback
juice of 1 lemon
1/2 teaspoon strong spice mixture (*see notes below)
salt

Wash the almonds and dry them thoroughly.  When they are completely dry, grind them to a powder in a blender.  Remove from blender jar and set aside (you need not wash the blender before the next step).

Cut the pomegranates in half an scoop out all their seeds into the blender jar.  Puree the seeds and strain; this should yield 1 1/4 to 1 1/2 cups of juice.  Mix the juice and the ground almonds, and add the lemon juice.  Press the mixture through a fine strainer; the result will be an almond milk made with pomegranate juice instead of water.

Cut the chicken into serving pieces and pat dry.  Sprinkle with salt.  Cut the fat into 1/8-inch dice  and render it over low heat in a heavy-bottomed casserole.

Peel the onion and slice into thin rings.  When the fat has rendered, brown the chicken and onion until evenly golden.  If excess fat remains in the casserole, spoon most of it out before proceeding.

Add the almond-pomegranate juice and the spices.  Bring to the boil, then turn the heat down as low as possible and simmer, covered, until the chicken is tender, 30 to 45 minutes.

Check for seasoning and serve.

It looks like the olive oil bottle needs refilling

I'll admit it -- I'm a modern cook using medieval recipes.  Yes, I took some modern shortcuts.  Pomegranates are not yet in season (close!) so I bought pomegranate juice.  I also used the healthier choice of olive oil rather than pork fatback.  Maybe I lost some extra flavor with that decision, but I think my arteries are thanking me for it.

I bought a whole chicken as per the recipe but next time I think I'll just use a cut up one or, even better by my tastes, a package of boneless, skinless thighs.

The "strong spice mixture" is listed as "recipe 150, variation C" further on in the book.  It is basically 1 part ground black pepper, 1 part long pepper, 3 parts ground cloves, and 3 parts ground nutmeg.  At least that is what I used.  I put them all in my coffee-grinder-dedicated-to-grinding-spices-only and whirred them into a powder.

I have long pepper (see the Wikipedia article at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Long_pepper) because I cook in the medieval and Renaissance time period.  It is much like black pepper but with a more fiery bite.  The mixture I put together had quantities that were just eye-balled and it did smell strong and peppery.

Anyway, it was easy to grind the almonds and mix them with the juices.  I let them steep (always a good idea for almond milk) while I cut up the chicken and then browned it with the onions.

Nearly all browned

When I strain almond milk, I always lose a lot of the moisture into the almond meal, so I didn't get much more than 1 cup of the milk from it.  ** TAKE NOTE:  save the used almond meal for a dessert called "Emeles".  See the next posting.

The almond milk was mostly brown so I'm not sure how the authors got the "rosy color" they refer to in the text.  I tasted it and was wowed by the burst of flavor in my mouth.  I couldn't wait to try this dish!

Not rosy but wowsie!

After I poured on the sauce, I sprinkled the spices evenly over the chicken pieces.

I even made sure some of the onion was on top of the chicken.  Then I covered it, set the heat to very low, and walked away for 45 minutes.

'Tis done.

The Verdict
I tried a thigh with some onion and a few spoonfuls of sauce over the top.  Success!  The authors said it would have a "gentle flavor" and it certainly did.  The juice flavors I tasted before cooking had mellowed considerably and blended with the chicken, spices, and onion.  I liked it a lot!

I noticed that some of the sauce around the edges had thickened more than what I had scooped out, so I tried that, too.  Oh, I liked this even more!  The flavor was richer and the sauce stayed longer on my tongue.  The thick pieces of chicken hadn't cooked all the way through (my heat is very low) so I turned it back on and simmered them, uncovered, for another 20 minutes on very low. Now all the meat was cooked and all the sauce was thick. Much, much better!

I truly liked the mellow fruit and spice flavor.  But I was also intrigued with the idea of getting more of that rosy color and a stronger burst of pomegranate, so I took some of the sauce and mixed in just a splash of pomegranate juice.  This was good over the chicken, too!

So make your choice:  Want your sauce to have a gentle, subtle flavor?  Follow the recipe.  Want it to be thicker?  Reduce it and the flavor will intensify a bit, too.  Want that rosy color and a stronger pomegranate flavor?  I would reserve out about 1/4 cup of the pomegranate-lemon juice mix and add it at the very end.

Who knew this recipe could be so versatile?