"You say game hen, and I say poussin": Provencal poussin

When I was in college, a century or two ago, one of the signs of "glamorous, exotic" eating was a rock cornish game hen. The name just made you feel you were eating something really odd and unusual. Almost inevitably served with wild rice, these little birds would come on your plate, almost always not as brown as they could have been ("the recipe said not to overcook them"), and looking very much like, well, a baby chicken.

I hated them. I always felt they were too much work for how they tasted. But, dutiful food snob in training, I made them. I served them. I ate them. And told everyone that they were an unusual bird.

Until, oh, about five years ago, when I was having dinner at my friend Jane's house. Her much missed father Warren was there. At the time, Warren was 91, spry and full of spit and vinegar as we would say. We were eating quail, another one of those baby birds. I went on this rambling monologue (easy to do at Janes, after bottle of wine number 7 or so) about game hens, until Warren said, in his deep, resonant baritone. "Well, not to disagree with the learned gentleman, but rock cornish game hens are baby chickens. That's all they are. And I should know, because I raised them."

OOPS. Of course he's right. I looked it up as soon as I got home (notwithstanding the fact that it was 2a.m. when I did). But I never cooked them. Instead, I started learning how to cook... poussin.

Know what poussin is? It's a baby chicken. It's a synonym for rock cornish game hen. The interesting thing, I learned, is that for game hens or poussins, since they are butchered so young, you don't have to worry about sex. The hormones haven't kicked in that make roosters tough.

This is REALLY a case of "he likes chicken, " I guess.

God, I hate the food business. The first time I had one of these birds was at "Jarnac" restaurant (no longer around, alas), where "whole roasted poussin with walnut butter," was a mainstay of the restaurant. I liked them. They were GOOD. I never cooked them at home though. Until last week. I had bought a bunch of them on sale from D'artagnan, thinking "I'll figure this out," and then Ariane posted a recipe. In fact, she posted two. And since each one took all of 12 minutes to cook (more on that below), what could go wrong? My whole roasted chicken takes an hour, so....

Ok, here's the one I made. It's easy, but you need to be patient. Get some fresh herbs. LOTS of them. Four tablespoons is not an unreasonable amount . More if you like. Also, 2-3 cloves of garlic, chopped up. Four tablespoons of balsamic vinegar. A teaspoon of salt, some crushed black pepper, and a tablespoon of olive oil. Mix all of that together.

Now, to the poussins. This mix is supposed to be enough for four of them. I made two, but I think it would coat four. "Spatchcock" the birds, if it hasn't been done for you already . (This is review. We've spatchcocked things before: cut out the backbone. That's all it is). Put the backless critters into a big plastic bag with the mix, stir it up, and put it in a bowl into your fridge, overnight. In the morning, just turn the guys so that the marinade is working evenly.

(I'm not much of a fan of marinades, by the way, but the meat on these birds is so mild that you really need to add some flavor).

When you're ready to cook, get a stovetop grill, or a frying pan, REALLY hot with some oil - say two tablespoons in it. Pour the marinade off of the birds, and it probably is a good idea to pat them dry. Put them, breast side down into the hot oil, and cook them for 6 minutes, or until they're nice and brown. (You may want to do it for more than 6 minutes. The timing here , six minutes to a side, gives a bird that is decidedly toward the sushi end of things. ). Turn them, and cook for another six minutes (or longer, and then drain them on some paper. If you have some fresh herbs left, chop some of them up while the birds are cooking, and sprinkle them on the finished chicken at the last minute. Serve em forth, maybe with parsley root puree.

Poussin/game hen/whatever. It's all good