Saturday lunch: cooking for a friend

Among people who cook, one of the signs that they really, REALLY love you is that you get to pick what they cook. I'm serious about that. Putting aside whatever other comments, kind or otherwise, that someone will make, in the kitchen, Annalena RULES. But occasionally, I will ask someone "what do you want to eat, I will cook it for you."

And today, I cooked for David. I've written about David in these blogs before, so I won't repeat the stories. but David gets to choose. At least this time. And David asked for chicken scaloppine. And so it was.

But what, exactly, is chicken scaloppine? There is no definite answer. A "scaloppine" is literally, a thin slice of something. That's all it is. There is no hint in the name "pollo scaloppine" that gives you any hint as to what goes into it. And if you start looking for recipes, for vitello scaloppine (veal), or maiale scaloppine (pork), and so forth, you will find absolutely no consistency whatsoever. This is unlike pollo cacciatore (chicken hunter style), which begins to give you some idea of what is going on. And there isn't a codified recipe, like with vitello piccata, which ALWAYS has butter, lemon juice, and white wine in it.

But certain things are constant in cooking any scaloppine. First, since the slices are usually thin, and from a bland part of the animal or bird, there has to be butter in the cooking medium. Oil , even olive oil, will not give it enough flavor. And there is always a fortified alcohol of some kind. Beyond that, it's open season. So, with this in mind, and knowing a bit about what David likes, here's how I did it.

I started with a pound of very small scaloppine. These are, essentially, thin chicken cutlets. I put equal amounts of olive oil and butter into a large pan, and after I had floured the chicken, I started heating the fat.

By "flouring the chicken," what I mean is I took a plastic bag, tossed in about a cup of flour and a big teaspoon of salt, and a bit of pepper. Then I put all the chicken in (there were about 10 of them), and shook. I took out each cutlet, and let it rest on a tray, while the butter melted. Then I sauteed them, on both sides. For this, remember Annalena's favorite phrase: "engage your senses." You can't see the side that's browning, so listen. When the chicken has browned, there is a distinct change in the sound of the fat. That's when you flip it, and you listen again.

When the chicken was browned, I put it back on the tray, and put it in the oven just to keep it warm while I prepped vegetables. I have a king's ransom worth of morel mushrooms in the refrigerator, and I know David likes mushrooms. So do I, and so does Guy. I sliced up about a pound of them, and tossed them into a new pan, with oil (don't clean the chicken pan yet. We're coming back to that) And... inspired by a restaurant visit from a while ago, I had a bunch of watercress where I cut the tough stems off, and just tossed the tender part in. That took all of about five minutes to cook down , while the chicken took about 8 minutes (had I been more organized, I could have done these simultaneously).

NOW, onto the pan you cooked the chicken in. Pour off about half the fat, and add, oh, about a third of a cup of dry marsala wine into it. (you can use other spirits, like vermouth, or sherry, or even a dry port. You could use red wine, too). Turn up the heat (you should add the spirits to a cold pan, because otherwise, you can get a flare up from all the alcohol), and let it cook down to about a half of the volume. At this point, I wanted more sauce, so I added sherry, as I was out of marsala. I cooked it down the same way. Then, I put the chicken back in, and just turned them in it until they were coated.

VOILA. A perfect dish. You could certainly serve this forth for dinner. If you wanted more heft, you could make polenta, or pasta, or another vegetable. And you should play with this. You can use any vegetables you want, or you can leave them out.

David is one of those friends who can have anything he wants for a meal. I'm lucky to have that quality of friend.