Documenting A Weekend (Or A Lack Thereof)

Alexandria's Opening Night 11/18/2011

My dear friend and co-star of Spatula Sarah says where you find a foodie, you find a camera in hand and guests at the dinner table rolling their eyes.  It's true. Almost any time I go out to eat, I take my camera. I never know when I will need to capture a meal in a photograph.

This weekend while I had my camera on me at all times, I only took the photograph you see here. And it doesn't even capture the deliciousness of the meal. If anything, it documents a food memory I always want to remember.

During the fall and early winter, often I find myself as a hunter's widow. At first I wasn't a big fan of that new role. But as the seasons have come and gone, I've learned to enjoy the time in our quiet house when I grade, cook, write, work on projects, and/or catch up on Jersey Shore. I've realized alone time really nurtures my interior life. But after 36 hours I really start to miss FD.

This weekend was not so quiet as most, though. It began with a family dinner at my house with my in-laws and my sister-in-law on Thursday night. Then us ladies departed around 10 p.m. to get seats for the midnight showing of the epic Twilight Saga's Breaking Dawn (which was fucking awesome, despite what any haters would say.) Friday afternoon after Big F and FD got back from the marsh, FD took off for the island, and Sarah came over to run through our Winter Wheat presentation entitled "Food Writing: Subgenre or Multigenre?" Then, joined by her hubs, we headed to Findlay for the opening of Alexandria's, where Michael from Revolver is the head chef. (The mole is the die for. An in-depth review is forthcoming.) We met up with G and E there and had a great time; the only thing missing for me was FD. Saturday morning Sarah and I gave our presentation, which went exceptionally well, and then Saturday night I had a date with my sis SEM at Revolver.

What's funny is I had imagined taking lots of pictures at family dinner, at Alexandria's, at Winter Wheat, and at Revolver. It was weekend full of a lot of my favorite people and my favorite food. But the lighting wasn't all that great at Alexandria's. And at Revolver, the opportunity never presented itself for SEM and I to "snap" some pics of us. To force a photographic moment is way worse than not taking any at all. The chicken meatballs that SEM ordered at Revolver were gorgeous; the perfectly cut pieces of toast with an even spread of cream cheese and herbs standing like small pyramids on SEM's dish are embedded in my mind. And seeing her in a pretty dress and feeling all girly in my Odd Molly dress was the perfect way to eat a meal celebrating her moving on in her life and going to LA.  I can't help to wonder, though, if sometimes the best meals are better honored as memories.

In an age where Facebook has made us all feel like celebrities with our need to post every last picture of our comings and goings, it was nice to have a weekend with some of my family and best friends that I can cherish as vivid memories, without photographs. And being surrounded my the ones I loved, especially after FD left for his trip, made my weekend feel a lot less lonely. Great friends truly are one of the best parts of life.

Though a part of me does wish I would have taken just a few more pics, at least for my journal...

Fairy Dust: An Addiction

For my ex-wife potatoes and fairy dust addictions, I blame Sarah Lenz, my fierce friend and fantastic co-star of Spatula.  

If I end up on Intervention, she better be there too. It would only be a "I go, if you go" situation. I'm not watching her grind up Fairy Dust while I use commercial grade Cayenne Pepper. That would cause me to relapse. For sure. 

Let me back up a bit.

A couple of weeks ago, Sarah told me over lunch that she was attempting to make her own dried chili peppers. As much as I love her, I half-heartedly dismiss these projects she pronounces. It's not malicious. It's just she always has a project and is super-motivated, like me, so I see the results only days after she first mentions said-project to me. Why on earth get all fired up about the idea when within a week I can ponder the results for a long while? 

Needless to say, a couple of days later, Sarah calls to report about the dried chili flakes.  

"After I ground the dried chilies in my spice (aka coffee) grinder, they came out like dust," she said. 

"Like powder," I responded, dreamily. 

I'm telling you I could be on Intervention. I'm thinking about how to get a cut of this stuff. How to divy it up. How to parcel it out. Without getting caught. 

Dried Chili Dust = Foodie Cocaine. 

What's weird is, I don't remember tasting it with Sarah. I remember her telling me about it. And then suddenly her dryer was in my house. Trays of halved peppers drying, with their seeds and membranes intact, widened our nostrils and awoke our lungs. Sarah warned me to dry the chilis in the basement; I kept them in the kitchen. After 2 days of drying, I put the shriveled peppers in a coffee bean grinder, like Sarah told me to, and ground them, in several different rounds, into fairy dust. I put the dust in an washed pimento jar. Then I feel as though I woke up and remembered my life, again.

The most mind-blowing result of fairy dust is forthcoming in a BG News article (click on the "YourNews" tab), but I have to admit that I put them in/on/over almost everything I eat. 

I've mixed the fairy dust with butter and put it on steak. 

I've swirled it into mayo and used it as a dip for my ex-wife potatoes. 

I've sprinkled chicken breasts with it before a good sear and bake. 

I've even added it to my olive oil before massaging it into a whole chicken's skin--above and just beneath its surface.

Tonight, FD added it to his venison chili, a fall dish I live for. 

Rich with umami, FD's chilis are always acidic in a good way, complex in mouthfeel (the beans always stay firm and he always finds a chip or Nut Thin to add crunch while serving it), and hot(!!!) with chilies. The fairy dust just took it to a whole new level. Though, I have to admit that I almost put a few sprinkles of fairy dust on top of bowl just before my first spoonful. 

I told you I have a problem. 

To take some of the heat (pun intended) off me, I think Sarah should post the recipe. But if you read between the lines here and are feeling the itch from some fairy dust, you could easily put together the recipe from my post alone. 

I'm not one to leave food junkies hanging. But be warned: THIS SHIT IS HIGHLY ADDICTIVE!

I seriously will never buy dried chili flakes or chili pepper for my pantry ever again when it's so easy to make my own. 

...See, wouldn't Jeff have a field day with me? 

Lemon Chicken and Rice Soup with Kale

Sis

Yesterday FD and I went to my parents' to celebrate my sister's birthday.

She turned 37 but looks only 12. Her life is a testimony in so many ways I still am unable to articulate yet, but I try.

The two things that are constant about my sister: pizza is her favorite food and five is her favorite number.

Needless to say we had pizza on her birthday, and she got 5 new nail polishes and more than 5 new puzzles. And when she opened her present from K. & Z., a necklace with a star-shaped pendant with a pink gem, I thought she was going to pass out or end up on YouTube.

It was a super cool birthday for her, and I was thrilled to be there to celebrate it.

While I was home, my Pops told me something I had forgotten. When I graduated from high school, I applied to Kent, BGSU, and a few other schools in addition to culinary school. It came down to Kent and culinary school. My love of writing won, and I went to Kent, became an English major, and "the rest is history," as they say. But my Pops said, "I think it's funny you're still so into food. It's like you went to culinary school after all."

Sometimes the best education is the one you give yourself.
Even if it's unintentional.

I totally forgot I had applied to culinary school.
I totally forgot I loved cooking in high school.
I totally forgot how food bonds me to everyone I love.

I totally forgot I forgot years of my life.

A great reminder was when Hons, my step-mom, gave me two of her America's Test Kitchen cookbooks last night.

Immediately upon getting home, I poured a glass of wine and devoured The Best Simple Recipes cookbook.

Knowing full well I needed a soup for the week and that I had some chicken breasts de-thawing in the fridge, I went right for the soup chapter and found their version of Lemon Chicken and Rice Soup.

What's funny is I wouldn't call it "simple." There are a lot of steps and a lot of ways to fuck it up. But the ingredients are simple. So I wonder if it's the ingredients that determine the "simple" adjective.

What I can say about the finished product? It is divine. Cook's Illustrated and Christopher Kimball never let me down.

The egg yolks (mine came from our local farmer Luginbill Family Farms) added great body, texture, and color to the soup. A total must. (And the leftover eggs whites are perfect for an omelet tomorrow morning.) Yet the procedure was not simple. There were several steps, and it took about an hour. It isn't the weeknight dinner that it had pronounced itself to be in the cookbook...but I do get home from teaching about 7:30 every night, and anything that takes longer than 10 minutes is far too long for me.

Texture and taste wise, the soup was amazing. I added kale to it, while the chicken rested, as well as magic pepper dust. (More on that soon, I promise!) The magic pepper dust made it probably a thousand times more awesome.

But what's even more awesome?

Knowing my decision to go to Kent rather than culinary school was the most awesome decision I ever made (i.e. FD, friends, poetry, job, etc.).

Two New Discoveries

I love gin.

In the summer it tastes like linen.

In the winter, pine needles.

Hand me a gin & tonic or a French 75 at any party or happy hour, and you'll find a very happy girl.

Determined to find a GF gin, I went on a woman-hunt and found Watershed Distillery's Gin made from corn. Of course, I found it at the end of the month when I couldn't justify paying for booze over food. And when we got paid, I didn't see it again for at least three months.

On a recent shopping trip to Rossford, I stopped in my favorite liquor store Corks, hoping I might find it again. And there it was, saying, "Manda, you just got paid and I'm perfect for French 75's." As my friend G would say, "Sign me up!"

Seriously, if you are a gin lover, other gins are untouchable. Watershed's Gin is perfectly tart and zesty. Perfect for mixing or for a straight martini. And even better it's distilled with corn. Score for GF! And even better better? It's made in Columbus, Ohio. Score for locavore!

The juniper berries are so pronounced and lovely, I keep imaging what it would taste like with venison. Jamie Oliver's venison tenderloin with juniper berries. Maybe overkill to some, but a match made in heaven to me.

::Sigh::

The only other person I know who loves gin as much as me is my good friend and Spatula co-star Sarah.

Which leads me to my other new obsession: Chicken Pate with Cashews and Basil.

This weekend I lent a helping hand to prep for Sarah's hubby's bday celebration. Part of tradition is to homemake pretzels dipped in lye (sp?). (That all whole situation is for a different blog post, which I had every intention of blogging about that until I tasted the pate.)

For one of the spreads for the pretzels or an app, Sarah asked if I would take charge of the chicken pate. Sure, easy, whatever.

Little did I know I was getting my first taste of a whole new food addiction. (Seriously, are Candy and Jeff coming for me?)

Sarah put me in charge of the pate. I began by browning chicken breasts in butter. And by brown, I meant brown. Each piece was crisp, after a full 1/2 hour and 1/4 gin and soda. Then I added the cashews and garlic and let them cook until the garlic was just about brown. We were worried about time, so we stuck the browned chicken chunks, cooked garlic, and cashews in a freezer-safe bowl for about 15 minutes. After 15 minutes, I put the mixture into Sarah's awesome food processor, gave it a whiz, added the mayo, cheese, and hot pepper sauce, and then processed it again. It was a little thick, so we added about a teaspoon of chicken stock and gave it a whiz again. At last I sprinkled in the basil and stirred it.

Let's stop talking about it. I'm hungry.

I will say, though, give me a French 75 and Chicken Pate on Nut Thins and I'm golden. So much umami equals so much happiness. If only there were three more meals in a day...

Meal For One

When I sit down to a meal by myself, I always think of my Grandpa Prieur and Grandma Rita, both of whose spouses have passed and who often eat alone.

~

I've always been a loner. Back in my undergrad days I went to Country Kitchen in Ravenna, Ohio by myself at 3:00 a.m. I would order grilled cheese and hot tea. I would write until the sun peeked over the horizon through those commercial windows. I tipped well. The waitresses fought over me when I walked through the heavy glass doors.

~

Recently, my mum-in-law Sally told me a story about how her mom used to cook her dad his pork, eggs and toast in a mini cast iron pan. A meal for one.

The minute I logged in after talking with Sally I added a 5" Lodge cast iron skillet to my Amazon Wish List.

What a perfect little skillet for FD's GF Grilled Cheese.

Or for a meal for one.

~

My Grandma Rita is pushing 90, but everyday the woman makes three meals for herself.

Amen.

That's an amazing feat considering over 50,000,000 millon people eat fast food on a daily basis.

~

Tonight I cooked three boneless, skinless chicken breasts with a tomato and squash sauce, infamous ex-wife potatoes and roasted broccoli. Even though I made a meal for one, it was one that honored my food ethics and politics. I felt proud.

Most times when left my own devices, I order out.

I have an El Zarape addiction.

I often regret that decision.

~

What's funny is one of my all-time favorite people was supposed to join me for dinner tonight. But she bailed. I don't blame her. In fact, between you and me, I was happy. Bailing is under-rated. Sometimes we don't realize we will need that exact moment to be alone until that moment. Bailing is just the  ultimate self indulgence, with the best of intentions. All day I wanted to be alone. I love others, but also I just wanted to close the door, knowing it was just me--here--alone.

Just a moment to breathe out.

Just a moment to blare Tori Amos' _Boys for Pele_, to make an all girl music mix, and to sing higher and louder than usual, in celebration of finishing grading one of five sections of papers.

~

As a treat for tonight I saved the pumpkin cupcake Sarah Cohen gave me for "writing such a beautiful article about them." I like to snack while watching _Dateline_.

But what's compelling is I can't turn off my Girl-Grading-Weekend Mix. Lykke Li's "Possbillity reminds me I'm alone. And not alone.

Maybe I should've taken a picture of my meal, but I didn't. Quite frankly, I just unrolled an Orla Kiely floral-print placemat on top a wooden tv tray seconds before I placed the plate on top, sat down, and ate. I didn't think it was special. I was alone.

(My boys are gone for opening weekend. My hope: they will return with food for all of us. Food we earned. Food politics in action.)

~

I poured my last glass of wine as I turned on the bath's faucet. I have Nigel Slater's _Toast_ on the edge of the tub.

But I miss my boys.

They will be home soon. And by Sunday night my grading will be done.

In the meantime I have food to get me through the next four sections of papers.

Cooking for one is worth it.

Goodbye Summer & Picnics at the Quarry

Tomorrow  the semester starts and summer ends.

While I really excited to get back in the classroom with my students, I'm a little sad too. It means I'm going to have a lot less time to cook.

One of my favorite summer activities has been going to the Portage Quarry with our friends N & I. They are as food obsessed as me.

So really, while swimming was totally fun, what was even more fun were our picnics. All of us brought A game to every meal. We're talking spreads that would shame wedding buffets. And what a better way to use up all that fresh produce that was overtaking our refrigerators' crisper drawers?

Also, what picnic days taught me was how to think outside the box of what was picnic food, and they forced me to experiment more with grains, chilled salads, and sides, most of which could easily become main dishes.

I had a blast spending the whole day before our outings scouring through online and magazine and cookbook recipes, creating various flavor simple syrups, testing adult lemonades, finding plastic containers with tight fitting lids, and cooking.

Thanks to our picnics I've learned to love lentils even more, and I feel much closer to N & I (and our friend J who joined us once too!), who were rad to begin with but who are even more rad after I got a chance to chill, swim, and eat with them.

As homage to the last of our picnic days (and summer, in general), here are photos from our summer of good eating, good swimming, and good friends.

Homemade grape leaves, homemade hummus, egg salad, chicken salad, coleslaw with beets, beet salad, etc.

N & I made their own pickles. True love at first bite.

A lot of our produce came from the community garden and farmers markets.

N's baking is divine. This is her cupcake with mint (or basil?) frosting. It's hard to remember everything...

Lentil wraps, fried chicken, bbq chicken & tofu, pasta salad, kale salad, roasted potatoes, peach crisp, etc.

Green bean and cherry tomato salad with onion--produce from my friend Sarah's garden.

I Can Sweat Duck Fat

This past weekend I visited my friend Jeannie in Hudson. It's kind of like our annual girls weekend. We go the Grey Colt Sidewalk Sale, then out to really AWESOME dinner. This year I threw on a brand new Odd Molly top and funky Free People skirt I got at the sale and Jeannie threw on her best pair of green heels and a sweet summer dress and we headed to Greenhouse Tavern on East 4th in Cleveland.

This post isn't going to review Greenhouse Tavern. That review, in addition to one about Lucky's Cafe, will be live in the BG News this coming Wednesday.

This post is an account of my sweating duck fat during a yoga class. (And, yes, it smelled awesome as well as gross.) It's the unedited version of our girls night out.

The ambiance of the Greenhouse Tavern is sophisticatedly "green." From its fancy toilets that offer two flush settings (one for liquid, two for solids) to recycling old un-used menus as fry cones, this restaurant is thoughtful in its sustainability and certified for it too. I felt proud that my eating that evening was totally eco-friendly.

Without a doubt, the best choice on the menu is the 4 Course Chef's Tasting Menu. You get to choose one appetizer, one "second" appetizer, one entree, and either a dessert or a side for $39. Jeannie and I played it smart by each ordering the tasting menu and sharing a side and a dessert. However, as the plates started arriving we realized we should have split the tasting menu.

I ordered the French Buttered Radishes as my first. If you've been keeping up with my BG News articles, I've taken a liking to radishes lately. And these were amazing. Jeannie had the fried hominy, and I had a bit of food envy. Fried should be my middle name; crispy, salty, crunchy--the hominy rocked.

For seconds Jeannie had a lamb patty (sorry I forgot...I was having a food orgasm and wasn't taking notes when I should have been) that was AMAZING. I had the Hand Ground Beef Tartare, which rocked my world. As a kid I would sneak crumbs of raw ground beef before it went into a meatloaf or goulash. I have a raw meat problem, and unfortunately most raw meat is not fit to eat. So when I see tartare, I'm on board. Accompanied with housemade condiments, pickles, crostini, and a two minute egg, it was DIVINE. MINDBLOWING. INSANE.

While waiting for our entrees I realized to my left was a table of douche bags who were clearly there to be seen and maybe score some pu-tang. Maybe they thought they were cute, but truthfully they were obnoxious. So much so--we found out from our totally friendly, attentive waitress after they left--that the older couple sitting at our table before us asked to be moved. Ha! Jeannie and I tuned out all of their degrading comments about every woman in the restaurant simply by discussing each frame of Eclipse in-depth. Quickly, we became some weird, obsessed nerd girls they definitely wouldn't "fuck, marry or kill," which meant they left us alone for the most part. Until Jeannie's Half Roasted Chicken in Brioche Bread arrived at our table.

Dear reader, maybe you imagine shredded chicken in a bowl topped with buttery, rich French bread. If so, you are wrong. Chef Sawyer and his crew serve the half chicken in a HUGE LOAF of Brioche Bread. It's so huge that the runner asks if you'd like to slice it or have the kitchen slice it for you. Of course, any person in their right mind would have the kitchen do it.

So when the chicken returned, the douche bags next to us tried to claim it. Funny and cute? No, we wanted to eat. Patrick Swayze says, "No one puts Baby in a corner." I say, "No one comes between me and my food." After we laughed off their idiocy, Jeannie tried to make a dent in the chicken dish. If my guess is right she's still eating it right now for dinner.

I had the Sea-2-Table Halibut, which was beautiful. But the only reason I got it was so I wouldn't feel so guilty sharing and quite frankly devouring Jeannie's fourth dish: Gravy Frites. I'm not sure I'm prepared to talk about how much I think I'm addicted to these hand-cut potato sticks deep-fried in duck fat and topped with brown gravy and mozzarella curd. I can see why Michael Symon of Lola (a couple doors down on East 4th) calls them his guilty pleasure on the tv show The Best Thing I Ever Ate.

I swore to Jeannie I'd only eat a couple. I ate 3/4 of the plate. Yes, on top of the Halibut, beef tartare, and radishes. Clearly, I have problems. If I lived in Cleveland, I would be there right now eating them. And tomorrow morning I would wake up and be at the gym for 4 hours--I'm not lying--so I could go back and eat them tomorrow night. I'm having Walleye and a Raw Veggie Salad for dinner tonight. I'm not happy, and both are quite good (not to brag). I should have written this post after I ate.

That's how much I love those fries.

And we shared dessert--Carmel Milk Chocolate Pot de Creme. It was salty and sweet and a perfect ending to our fantastic meal. But the whole time I was thinking about the fries in Jeannie's to-go box.

And we got home and attempted to watch Little Ashes, which was horrible, but I got through it because I was thinking about the fries. (I couldn't eat them because I was that full and not that drunk.)

And I went to sleep and would wake up at random times with only the words "duck fat" on my mind and lips.

And in the morning we got up at 7:30 and went to Yoga Lounge where Kevin had us going through all these crazy advanced poses, including side crow and headstand, in a 98 degree room and all the while I'm thinking about duck fat fries. And I'm sweating duck fat all over my yoga mat. Which is a blessing and a curse. Because I can sniff my mat and remember the fries, but I probably should clean my mat after all the sweat that dripped on it.

I can't believe I admitted that for all the world to see...

(Grey Colt picture courtesy of their website.)

How About A Little Tongue?: Dinner and a Movie

Hello. My name is Amanda, and I'm a twi-hard.

And I'm food obsessed.

Mixing the two is what I imagine being on ecstasy is like.

Before going to the midnight opening of the Twilight Saga: Eclipse with my sis-in-law Suz and my husband FD, we had an exquisite dinner at Revolver in Findlay.

Dare I say, I enjoyed dindin more than the movie...

While Taj Mahal played in the background, Suz, FD, and I approached dinner from a family-style perspective; we shared all of our first courses and even our entrees.

Though it might be a HUGE stretch to think that our first courses were in any way linked to Eclipse, I somehow concocted a story to connect the two. We started our meal with Pickled Cow's Tongue with roasted beets and a soft boiled farm egg; Crispy Bone Marrow with shiitake mushrooms, braised beef, rhubarb, and star anise; and Local Porkbelly with potato galette, spring peas and curry.

The Cow's Tongue was divine. Imagine a flavor and texture combination of flank steak meets chuck roast. The beets gave it some moisture and the egg complimented the pickling. Eclipse has a lot of kissy moments in it, including the first not-so-romantic kiss between Bella and Jacob, which was a bit "offal"; therefore, the tongue was appropriate.

The Crispy Bone Marrow was juicy and salty with a bit of heat--much like the shirtless Jacob. (Wink, wink.)

The Local Porkbelly was smoky, chewy, and surprisingly light. It definitely represented the Cullens' fighting abilities. (Okay, that's a HUGE stretch.)

Seriously, we had a blast catching up and sharing family stories throughout the courses of our dinner as well as building the anticipation of the movie and the lines to get into the theater.

For my entree, I had Dickman Farms Chicken Breast with heirloom lima beans and black kale. My craving for kale is what drew me to this dish, and it did not disappoint. The tenderness of the chicken, lima beans, and kale worked beautifully together, especially with the slight hint of vinegar.

Suz and FD shared the pork sauerbraten for two with butter poached potatoes. Both are sauerbraten fans because their mum STR made it a lot from them when they were kids. Both really like Michael Bulkowski's stripped down version with a sauerbraten reduction drizzled over a pork tenderloin. The component that made the dish, though, was the butter poached potatoes. If crack potatoes hadn't already been coined, that's what they would be. The fingerlings were perfectly buttered and salted that they could have been mashed potatoes if I was blindfolded.

Quite frankly, even though I am obsessed with Twilight, I don't think the movie could have ever compared to our dinner. Which must mean I'm way more obsessed with food.

We saw Eclipse at the Carmike Theater in Findlay where it was showing on all 12 screens. You can only imagine the lines and the pre-teen mayhem. Unlike my experience of the New Moon midnight showing in Bowling Green who made several in-person announcements to our showing, the manager of Carmike did NOT ensure that there was NO saving of seats, outside food, or recording of the movie on digital devices. Basically, the manager of Carmike was NO WHERE TO BE SEEN. In other words, it was a cluster-mess of an event where every theater had rows of saved seats, aisles were littered with baggies of chips and gummy bears, and pubescent girls recorded all the "hot" scenes on their phones. I vow if I ever go to a midnight screening again, it will be in BG--no matter how geeky I have to feel by checking Fandango every hour to see when tickets can be purchased.

But even after all that frustration and the disappointment I felt with the movie's pacing as a whole, with the lingering of slow scenes, and the sometimes tacky acting, what made the evening so awesome were the fight scenes, the tent scene, the company of two of my favorite people, and the memory of another fantastic celebratory meal at Revolver.

Meal: 5 out of 5 stars
Movie: 3 out of 5 stars

Roasted Chicken Thighs with Potatoes & Carrots

FD is a HUGE fan of chicken thighs.

And who can blame him? So juicy, so tender, so succulent. We should all be fans of chicken thighs.

Let me rephrase: we should all be fans of organic, free range chicken thighs.

9 times out of 10 I buy a whole chicken from Luginbill Family Farm, but in those in-between months when I'm out of Luginbill chicken and can't get to Pandora and we're craving a little farmyard friend, I turn to the organic, free range chicken from the grocery store.

Please know I'm not a fan of buying meat from the grocery store unless it's from Mustard Seed or Nature's Bin (oh, to live in the Cleveland area again...) because I feel the meat is already over-priced at Meijer and especially Kroger. However, I'm hawk when it comes to the sale meats, specifically organic, free range meats.

I found a package of chicken thighs on sale two weeks ago at Kroger. I bought them for FD. And after such a busy week for both of us, I thought I'd surprise him with one of his favorite meats.

For the recipe I turned to Epicurious but the actual recipe I used was in my archive of Bon Appetit magazines. The thighs were delicious. I'm sad to report, though, that my carrots overcooked and my purple fingerling potatoes also were a little over roasted. (Yes, I will use Yukon Gold and whole carrots next time.) It doesn't mean we didn't enjoy every single bite. I will make this recipe again. Especially after I have a kitchen with an exceptional hood. (I think I need to clean my oven; everything I roast smokes now...Ugh. How can I win a kitchen remodel?)

The herb and spice mixture of salt, pepper, thyme, and nutmeg was perfectly earthy with the root veggies. (Oh, I tried for parsnips instead of carrots, but the ones I bought a few days ago had already rotted. My detest of out-of-season veggies is only growing stronger. But it's in constant battle with my love of veggies all year round. What am I to do? *Sigh* I'm buying organic as much as I can...)

But those thighs.

Those thighs.


Ingredients

• 3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
• 6 large chicken thighs with skin and bones (preferably organic; about 2 1/4 pounds total)
• 1 tablespoon coarse kosher salt
• 2 teaspoons dried thyme
• 1 1/2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper
• 1/4 teaspoon freshly grated or ground nutmeg
• 2 pounds unpeeled medium Yukon Gold potatoes, scrubbed, cut into 2-inch-long, 1/2-inch-thick spears
• 2 pounds medium carrots, peeled, cut into 2-inch-long, 1/2-inch-thick spears
• 3 tablespoons chopped fresh chives
  

Prep

Preheat oven to 450°F. Coat large rimmed baking sheet with 1 tablespoon oil. Place chicken on baking sheet. Turn to coat with oil and set skin side up. Mix salt, thyme, 1½ teaspoons pepper, and nutmeg in small bowl. Sprinkle half of mixture over chicken. Roast until chicken starts to brown and some fat has rendered, about 30 minutes.

Meanwhile, combine potatoes, carrots, 2 tablespoons oil, and remaining saltthyme mixture in large bowl. Transfer thighs to medium bowl; set aside. Transfer potato-carrot mixture to same baking sheet; turn to coat with drippings. Roast until vegetables soften, 30 minutes. Place thighs on vegetables; pour accumulated juices from chicken over. Return sheet to oven. Roast until chicken is cooked and vegetables brown, 15 minutes longer.

Place chicken on platter; top with chives.

Read More http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Oven-Roasted-Chicken-Thighs-with-Carrots-and-Yukon-Gold-Potatoes-351711#ixzz0gbUgEG8s