STUFF A CHICKEN RIGHT NOW!

Roast stuffed chicken makes any meal special.

I haven’t made a stuffed turkey for more than two years! With fewer people at my holiday table, it just doesn’t make sense to roast a big bird. But, I’ve been missing the pleasure—the wonderful smell of a stuffed bird while it’s in the oven and the anticipation of a lovely meal to come. And stuffing (or, maybe you call it dressing)--sage, onion and celery; mushroom-thyme, or apple and sausage--stuffing is a big part of the delight.

So, why wait for another holiday? Stuff a chicken right now! For Sunday dinner, when you have time to enjoy the slow-roasting and the aroma that fills the house with a celebratory feel. Even if you are only two or three or four, the leftovers are gratifying.

Three Kings, from a village Nativity scene.

In Spain at Christmas (which, by the way, is not over yet, as 12th night and the holiday of Epiphany—Kings Day, when kiddies get their gifts from the Three Kings from Bethlehem is January 6), a favorite item is boned chicken with a stuffing of ground pork and ham. Boned chicken is easy to serve.

Pork stuffing with dried fruits.

I’ve used a Catalan version of that stuffing, with dried fruits and nuts, to stuff a whole, bone-in chicken. I look for a good-sized bird—at least 5 pounds—either free-range or organic. The free-range chickens I get are fairly lean but have great flavor and texture. The pork stuffing helps to baste them from the inside out.

Juicy chicken, savory-sweet stuffing.

Roast Stuffed Chicken
Pollo Relleno con Carne y Frutas Secas

A medium-dry Sherry adds subtle background flavor to the stuffing and the pan juices. If not available, use any white wine. Use any combination of dried fruits. I favored apricots, Málaga raisins* and prunes. If they are very dry and leathery, soak them in hot water for 30 minutes, then drain and add to the stuffing. You can substitute pork sausage meat for the ground pork—but don’t add additional salt to the stuffing. Truffle is an optional, luxurious, addition to the stuffing mixture. Lard can be substituted for olive oil, if desired. Small onions, carrots, potatoes, turnips can be added to the roasting pan, if desired.
*Málaga muscatel raisins, shown in the photo, are the sweetest in the world. They do, however, have seeds.Worth the trouble of de-seeding them.

Serves 6.

Dried fruits go into stuffing.

1 roasting chicken, capon or small turkey (5 ½ to 6 pounds)
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
Sherry (dry or medium), 1 tablespoon + 1 cup
½ pound ground pork or pork sausage
1 ½ ounces chopped serrano ham
1 cup chopped dry fruits (raisins, apricots, prunes, figs)
Olive oil
¼ cup pine nuts
½ cup chopped onions
½ cup fresh bread crumbs
½ cup diced apple
½ teaspoon pimentón (paprika)
¼ teaspoon cinnamon
Pinch of cloves
Grating of fresh nutmeg
2 tablespoons chopped parsley
Truffles, diced (optional)
1 tablespoon capers (optional)
½ -1 cup chicken stock

Sprinkle the chicken inside and out with salt and pepper. Add 1 tablespoon of the Sherry to the cavity. Allow the chicken to come to room temperature.

Combine the pork, ham and dried fruits in a bowl with ¼ cup Sherry. Heat 1 tablespoon oil in a small skillet and toast the pine nuts until golden. Skim them out. Add the onions to the skillet and sauté on medium heat until softened, 3 minutes. Add the onions to the meat with the pine nuts, bread crumbs, apple, pimentón, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, parsley, truffles and capers, if using, 1 teaspoon salt and freshly ground black pepper. Combine well.

Preheat oven to 350ºF.

Stuff the chicken with the mixture of meat and dried fruits. Skewer the neck and body openings closed and truss the chicken with kitchen twine. Place in a heavy roasting pan or in a large skillet. Drizzle with 1 tablespoon olive oil.

Roast the chicken for 40 minutes. Add ½ cup Sherry and ½ cup chicken stock to the roasting pan. Spoon some of the juices over the chicken. Roast 40 minutes more, basting occasionally. Add ¼ cup additional Sherry and more stock, if needed. Roast 20 minutes more or until internal temperature of the stuffing reaches 140ºF when tested with an instant-read thermometer.

Remove the chicken to a cutting board and allow to rest at least 10 minutes. Carve the chicken and scoop the stuffing into a serving bowl. Skim the fat off the remaining pan juices. Spoon some of the juices over the chicken and serve the rest in a bowl.

IF IT'S GOOD FRIDAY, IT MUST BE BACALAO

This is Semana Santa, Holy Week, which precedes the joyous feast of Easter. In Catholic Spain, many people observe the Lenten period by abstaining from meat. In that sense, this holiday is a fast rather than a feast, but it, too, is celebrated with special foods, in particular, bacalao, salt cod. On the streets of cities and villages, Holy Week brings massive religious processions and fervent demonstrations of faith. 

Many years ago I lived several miles from town in an old mill house that had no electricity and no running water. To get my hair washed and dried, I went weekly to the village beauty shop, run by María. This was one of my best sources for recipes because, along with local gossip, the talk amongst the village ladies was invariably of food--what to serve for the next meal. While I waited my turn, I gathered recipes.

On one occasion, a week before Semana Santa, the place was jammed with many women waiting for a perm and color. Holy Week marks one of the three occasions of the year when every woman in town and country must have a new hair-do and color job. (The other two are the village feria and Christmas, which also signal housewives to get busy white-washing their house facades). I sat down, fully prepared to wait at least two hours.

María rushed over to me, proudly displaying a wig. The color was dark chestnut, the color of choice for local women in those days (now, blond and copper are just as common), and the hair was curled in lovely long ringlets. A dozen women crowded around to ooh and ah. What was so special?

“De la Virgen de los Dolores,” María said. The wig had been removed from the church’s image of the Virgin of the Sorrows, the life-size statue of the grieving Mother of Christ, with her jeweled tear-drops, which would be borne in the processions on Good Friday, and taken to the local beauty shop for restyling. Obviously no Andalusian woman, holy or otherwise, would dare walk in the procession without having her hair done!

The transubstantiation of dry salt cod
It was in a tapa bar during village processions that I first tasted bacalao, dry salt cod. It was delicious cooked in several ways, in a sauce and also batter-fried.

In the days before refrigeration and rapid means of transportation, fresh fish rarely was available to people who lived far inland from fishing ports. So during the Lenten period, when the Church required abstinence from meat, bacalao became an important part of the diet. Even in my village, so close to the sea, where people ate fresh seafood every day, bacalao was the choice for viernes santo, Good Friday.

I think it must be the mystery of the transubstantiation of bacalao, from a texture like cardboard and a smell like dirty socks, into a soft, snowy-white fish, that makes it appropriate to the season.

Though I enjoy eating bacalao in tapa bars, I rarely cook it at home. Except today. If it’s Good Friday, it’s got to be bacalao.

Because I recently returned from a trip to Barcelona (more about that in future posts), this year I’ve selected a Catalan recipe, bacalao a la llauna. A llauna is a shallow oven pan in which the cod finishes cooking. The cod is often served with tiny white beans, called mongetes, similar to navy beans. I brought some of those back from Barcelona. Once cooked (ok, not being very abstinent, I threw a chunk of pancetta into the pot), I dressed them with Arbequina olive oil from DO Siurana in Catalonia and the sauce from the cod. The garnish is of crisp-fried leeks (slice them crosswise, separate into rings, toss with flour and fry in olive oil).

SALT COD, CATALAN STYLE
BACALAO A LA LLAUNA

Start this recipe at least 24 hours before you intend to serve it. Select thick, center-cut pieces of salt cod, about 6 ounces per person. Trim away any fins and bones, but leave the skin. Rinse in running water and place the pieces of cod in a bowl. Cover with fresh water. Cover and refrigerate. Soak the cod for 24 to 36 hours (longer time for thicker pieces), changing the water 3 or 4 times.

Drain the cod and squeeze out excess water. Pat dry on paper towels.Use a boning knife to cut away any fins and bones.

Serves 4.

 

1 ½ pounds salt cod, cut in
      4 to 8 pieces, soaked for 24 hours
flour for dusting the cod
1/3 cup olive oil, preferably Catalan
     Arbequina
4 cloves garlic, sliced crosswise
2 ½ tablespoons pimentón (paprika)
½ cup white wine
salt and freshly ground black pepper
chopped parsley
cooked beans (optional)
fried leeks (optional)

Preheat oven to 350ºF (180ºC).

Dredge pieces of cod in flour and pat off excess. Heat the oil in a skillet on medium heat. Fry the pieces of cod on all sides until lightly browned. Remove them and set aside.

Strain the oil into a clean skillet (in order to eliminate flour bits). Heat the oil and sauté the sliced garlic until very lightly golden. Remove the skillet from the heat and stir in the pimentón. Add the wine, salt and pepper. Return to the heat and simmer 3 minutes.

Lightly oil a shallow oven pan. Place the pieces of cod in it, skin-side down. Spoon the sauce over the top and sprinkle with parsley. Bake until the fish flakes easily, about 10 minutes.

Serve immediately, accompanied, if desired, by cooked beans and fried leeks.

Post tasting notes: I’m supposed to be the expert! But, my rendition of this recipe—tasted after I made the photograph—was not great. The bacalao was way too salty. The thick pieces needed another 24 hours soaking. Plus, I think I would cover the llauna oven pan with foil to keep the moisture in during baking. It really should be moist and flaky and mine wasn’t. But, maybe I need to cook bacalao more than once a year!