Chicken Maque Choux

This dish is the Cajun festival of corn. When corn is in season, it is a wonderful way to mark the event.

When my little girl was just that, still in footed pajamas, I would find her on a Saturday morning slouching gamely in her high chair, Seaboard Coastline Railroad cap cocked back against her curls: she would be waiting, fork in fist, patiently enough, but thoroughly evincing earnest demand - and what she was waiting for was corn maque choux.

Yes, even for breakfast.

I was still in school, working a part-time night job, living on that and what was left of my GI bill. Things were kind of tight. In a fit of extravagance I had purchased Chef Paul Prudhomme’s Louisiana Kitchen. I couldn’t help myself - it was just out, and the pictures were glorious. As Fate would have it, the first recipe I tried - and that was probably because I could actually afford the ingredients - was corn maque choux. The little one liked it, and she never ever tired of it.

Corn maque choux - pronounced “mock shoo” - is pure Cajun, perhaps going all the way back to the landing - when the dispossessed Acadians, having achieved their Aeneid, chose  Southern Louisiana to make their stand. Most sources say that “maque choux” is a French rendering of some long lost Indian name. For the Acadians had no word of their own for such an exotic dish.

And the name Acadian would in time contract to “Cajun,” but you probably already knew that.

Prudhomme’s corn maque choux isn’t like anybody else’s. There’s no bell pepper, no celery, no tomato. It’s sweeter - but still savory. And it’s finished with an egg cream mixture which gives it the feel of a custard. It’s a great side dish, so good with pork. But that’s another story.

The Cajuns have a way of doing it with chicken. This recipe is tweaked a little in the Prudhomme direction.

One chicken cut up (or 8 thighs)

1/4 C bacon fat

1/4 C flour

2 C chopped onion

3/4 C chopped bell pepper - red and green

3/4 C chopped celery

2 cloves garlic, minced

1/2 C finely chopped andouille sausage

6 C kernel corn - cut off the cob from 8 ears; scrape as much milk from the cob as possible. Don’t hesitate to use a percentage of canned corn - it actually helps (somehow) with the overall texture. In fact, if you don’t have fresh corn, there is nothing wrong with using frozen or canned. It will still be delicious.

2 medium tomatoes, filleted, then chopped

1 T sugar

1 t salt

3/4 t white pepper

1/2 t red pepper

1/2 t black pepper

2 t tomato paste

3 C chicken broth + 1 C cream, combined, reduced by a third

1 C Sliced green onions - not just the whites, get some green - and much more for garnish;

**************************

1) Preheat oven to 375;

2) Salt and pepper chicken pieces. In Dutch oven (5 quarts is exactly the right size) fry chicken in bacon fat, skin down first, in batches, until lightly browned and crisp, 4-5 minutes per side. Remove chicken from pan, and drain on paper towels. 

3) Sprinkle flour into the bacon grease. With a spatula, over medium heat, stir - constantly, smearing and mashing any clumps, scraping at the brown bits on the bottom - until the flour browns enough to make a blond roux.  

4) Combine onion, peppers, celery, garlic and finely chopped andouille; throw half of the mixture into the Dutch oven, and saute for about 5 minutes, or until lightly browning;

5) Add the rest of the mixture and saute a few minutes more;

6) Then add the corn, tomatoes, spices, and tomato paste, stirring well. Break out your wooden spoon and stir, thoroughly scraping the bottom of the pan. Cover the pot for a few minutes, rendering the juices, then stir and scrape some more. Repeat the process until there are puddles of bubbling liquid dotting the surface. Altogether this should take about 20 minutes.

7) Add the chicken broth/cream mixture, and blend well. Bring to a high simmer, and on medium high heat, still stirring periodically, reduce the liquid until the corn is barely submerged. Maybe about 30 - 40 minutes.

8) Blend in the green onion;

9) Arrange chicken pieces on top of corn mixture, skin side up, with as much skin as possible exposed;

10) Braise in oven, covered, for 40 minutes

11) Remove cover and braise 20 more minutes.

12) Braising can yield a lot more liquid. This next step is sort of like they do with Beef Bourguignon. Remove the chicken to some handy dish, and spoon as much of the liquid as you can into a saucepan. Bring it to a boil over high heat, continuously stirring, until it is nicely thickened. Then blend it back into the corn mixture. Now it’s less like a soup and more like a proper casserole. Replace the chicken, and there you are.

You can easily bring it back up to temp when you are ready to serve. And that can be, with tongs and spoon, straight from the pot.

Or from a platter.  

Garnish with more green onions. 

Goes beautifully with crusty bread or rice - especially dirty rice.

Chicken Marbella

Thirty some odd years ago, this dish took the country by a storm, and with good reason. It’s pretty to look at, easy to make, and absolutely delicious. The fruit and olive combination is not as novel as it used to be - but the brown sugar crunch on the chicken can still surprise - it sets the dish apart.

And this is a different take. The original uses two chickens, quartered. The brown sugar is rubbed all over the skin - caked on, actually - and after roasting, the skin is incredible. But my wife avoids eating chicken skin - the fact that it is the best part of a chicken notwithstanding. She always removes it and puts it on my plate. For her last birthday she asked me to make Chicken Marbella. And it occurred to me that without that baked-on burst of brown sugar on the skin, she has been missing, all along, what Chicken Marbella is all about.

So, skinless, boneless Marbella it is. And the sugar can bubble and brown directly on the meat. If she thinks she likes it now (so ran my thoughts) just wait till she gets a load of this -

Boneless chicken cooks faster so the cooking time is reduced - and, happily, that’s a good thing: the prunes are little firmer, their texture more pleasing.

There are other departures; please forgive.  

The big thing is, she really liked it.

About 2-3 lbs. boneless, skinless thighs

1/2 C olive oil

1/2 C red wine vinegar

1/3 C capers, drained, with 1 t juice

1 C pitted prunes

1 C olives

1 C dried tomatoes in oil

1 head of roasted garlic, peeled and minced

2 T dried oregano

2 T dried basil

6 bay leaves

1 t salt

1 t black pepper

up to 1/2 C brown sugar

1/2 C dry white wine

Fresh oregano garnish

As for the olives, I typically get the most interesting mix available at the deli’s olive bar - often with a marinade of its own, which might include onion, more garlic, and hot peppers, you name it. I haven’t regretted it yet. It’s a good place to get the dried tomatoes, too, or for that matter the roasted garlic - but it’s easy to make your own.

1. In a large bowl, mix the oil, vinegar, capers, prunes, olives, dried tomatoes, roasted garlic, oregano, basil, bay leaves, salt, pepper and chicken - everything except the brown sugar and the white wine and garnish. Cover and refrigerate at least a few hours, preferably overnight.

2. Preheat the oven at 350 degrees.

Arrange the chicken pieces in a shallow roasting pan - a half sheet pan is ideal - and distribute the marinated vegetable and prune mixture with its liquid among the pieces. Then, cover each piece of chicken with about 2 t of brown sugar - probably a total of 1/2 C or so brown sugar.

Cook 35 minutes at 350 degrees.

3. Remove from oven, and carefully pour most of the liquid from the pan into a skillet - and over high heat reduce by at least a third - then taste it. If the flavor is thin, reduce it some more, up to by half. But don’t reduce it too much - you’ll be glad for any extra sauce.

4. Transfer chicken and vegetables to a platter, pour the reduced sauce evenly over it.

Or - you could put the sauce in a gravy boat and do it that way.

Serve with a likely starch - cheese grits, rice, pasta, etc.

Sweet Potato Eggplant Gravy

This is one of the greatest gravies of all time, terrific with roasted fowl, pork or veal. The recipe debuted in Paul Prudhomme’s groundbreaking first cookbook, The Louisiana Kitchen, where it was paired with roast duck. Later it was first choice to accompany his famous Tur-duck-en. It is the stuff of legend.

It is terrific with any roast fowl - and I am sure it would pair beautifully with roast pork or veal.

There is another Sweet Potato Eggplant gravy recipe featured on Chef Paul's website, but it is really different. This is the original. If you are actually going to go through the trouble of making Tur-duck-en, to make the experience thoroughly authentic, this gravy is a must. 

Of course, you might prefer (as I would) to consult the internet and order your Tur-duck-en from someone who can competently debone a whole turkey, a whole duck and a whole chicken, leaving each intact, then put them together so as to resemble one big bird -  and in that case, I recommend  The Best Stop Supermarket.

This is the Prudhomme recipe, pretty much, but I see that I have changed it a little over the years. Paul calls for duck fat and duck broth, but in our house (because of a pet duck issue) such a thing is frowned upon by management. So I use olive oil and chicken broth. Other changes are attributable to laziness or personal perversity.

Sweet Potato Eggplant Gravy

Ingredients:

1 medium eggplant
1 medium sweet potato
1 medium onion (finely chopped)
3 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1/4 C olive oil
3 bay leaves
1 1/2 t salt (in all)
1 1/2 t white pepper (in all)
1 1/2 t red pepper (in all)
1 1/2 t thyme leaves
1 t dry mustard
1/2 C brown sugar
7 C chicken broth
3 T Grand Marnier or Triple Sec
1/2 C sliced green onion

Peel and chop eggplant, which should yield around 4 cups. Peel the sweet potato and cut it in two: cut one half into half-inch dice, and set aside; finely chop the other half.

Pour the olive oil into a large skillet and get it hot. Throw in about three fourths (should be about 3 cups) of the eggplant. Saute it till it browns, adding more oil if you need to. Then add the chopped onion and what's left of the eggplant, and cook this until the onion begins to brown.

Next add the finely chopped sweet potato and the garlic. Stirring occasionally, cook for maybe 10 minutes. Add 1 t of the salt, 1 t of the white pepper, 1 t of the red pepper, and all of the thyme, and dry mustard. Cook for a few minutes more.

Now, over the next 10-15 minutes, in small doses, add 6 cups of the broth (which will leave you 1 cup in reserve), and the brown sugar, stirring as you go.

As stated, 10 or 15 minutes should be enough.

Remove from heat, and strain, mashing with a spatula as much liquid - and as much softened vegetable, which will be the body of the sauce - as you can into a large saucepan.

Throw away the vegetables in the strainer.

Over fairly high heat, pour the remaining cup of broth into the saucepan with the strained liquid, and add the diced sweet potato. Cook for about 10 minutes, skimming any froth. Then add the Grand Marnier and the remaining 1/2 t each of salt, red pepper and white pepper (a typical Prudhomme touch: I suppose a second stage of spicing lends a certain boost), bring it to a boil and simmer until it has reduced to about 3 cups.

Stir in the green onions, cook it a minute or so more, and that's it.