by F. L. Fowler
Flame-Licked Chick
I’m marinating deeply. Turmeric, garam masala, and ginger penetrate into my dreams. I’m not even sure I’m awake when the door of the Sub-Zero opens on to a dark kitchen. Awareness floats just out of reach like a dancing firefly.
I seem to see predatory eyes glowing dimly in the darkness, staring at my yogurt-smeared flesh. Recognition creeps up my spine. Wiley?
He gets out a camera and starts snapping pictures of me in my marinade.
“That perverted prep-cook hasn’t outfoxed me,” he grumbles to himself. “He thinks this is all about him and his little recipes. But I think big. Fast food is where the big bucks are. The foodie’s ideas just need to be scaled up. Tray of sticky fingers, bucket o’ dripping thighs. And I’m just the guy to do it. I’m going to make that bird mine. And if he tries to pick a bone with me about that, I’ve got these compromising pictures!
“Not bad for a kid from the hardscrabble highways of Monument Valley,” he continues. “It’s been the same all my life. People constantly underestimating me. Just a guy who reads books. Hah! A guy who reads books, who happens to be an inventor and a super-genius. I was out there chasing birds before that kid could even make ramen. Sure I never got one, but I never give up. They always laughed at me. But now this little cook-tease is my ticket to Fat City.
“That maniac and his bird will both get what’s coming to them. And I’ll get what’s mine.”
He finishes shooting and places me back in the fridge.
The marinade-induced delirium fades. It was just so vivid. What if it wasn’t a dream? Our Little Booklet! I feel a tingling of danger. But the powerful Indian spices are stronger than danger, and they penetrate deeper than panic.
grilled chicken with tandoori spices
SERVES 4 TO 6
1 (3½- to 4-pound) chicken, cut into 8 pieces and patted dry with paper towels
1½ teaspoons coarse kosher salt
Juice from 1 lime, plus wedges for garnish
1 cup whole-milk yogurt
1 small red onion, peeled and coarsely chopped
1 large jalapeño or small serrano pepper, seeded if desired, sliced
2 garlic cloves, peeled and smashed
1-inch-thick slice of peeled fresh gingerroot, coarsely chopped
1 tablespoon ground garam masala
½ teaspoon ground turmeric
1 tablespoon safflower or canola oil
Cilantro leaves, for garnish
1 Using a small, sharp knife, slash each chicken piece through the flesh until you reach the bone. One slash is plenty for the smaller pieces; slash the larger pieces twice. This allows the marinade to penetrate fully and deeply so the chicken can take it all in.
2 Rub the chicken pieces all over with the salt and lime juice. Refrigerate for 20 minutes so the chicken can recover.
3 Meanwhile, add the yogurt, onion, jalapeño, garlic, ginger, garam masala, and turmeric to a blender and puree until very, very smooth. Pour the yogurt mixture over the chicken pieces, tossing to coat them thoroughly, and refrigerate for at least 8 hours and up to 24 hours.
4 Preheat the grill or broiler. Wipe the marinade off the chicken with paper towels and then lightly brush the oil all over the flesh. Grill or broil, turning once, until the pieces are charred at the edges and the thigh juices run clear, 25 to 35 minutes (the breasts will be done before the legs and wings). Devour with cilantro and lime wedges for garnish.
LEARNING THE ROPES
Broiling these succulent pieces is a messy affair. Either use a broiler pan or line a rimmed baking sheet with oiled foil to keep the juices at bay.
chicken submarine sandwich with mozzarella
Chicken Sub
I stare blankly at the laptop screen, stunned. It’s filled with the image of my breast, half-covered in melted mozzarella, up close and in living color.
Holy shit! Was the dream real? I suspected Wiley was sneaking photos but I thought they were cookbook photos. Not this shocking, lurid food porn.
“Um, I seem to be on Google,” I manage to croak. Blades is slicing a tomato on the counter behind me.
“Everyone’s on Google, babe,” he says, distracted. “That’s the point of Google.”
“But … in a fast-food ad?”
He whips around to the laptop and stares, transfixed by the images of my white meat laid out on a bun and spattered with cheese. I recall Wiley’s hungry eyes and his last words—I’ll get what’s mine.
“Seems someone else wants to specialize in chicken,” he mutters as he rushes to the phone. Oh boy, is he angry.
He barks terse instructions into the phone. “I want his ass fired … Blackmail? Yes, he stole the recipes, my recipes … I want the photos removed too. Inform the fast-food chain I took the precaution of secretly copyrighting everything. They’ll grasp the situation at once.” He looks up at me and I see his face change from agitation to something else—a look of carnal craving.
“Keep me posted,” he snaps and puts away the phone, still staring at me. I sit frozen on the platter as he shrugs on his apron, ties it around his hips in that way, and struts over to me.
His eyes are scorching as he unsheathes a considerable length of baguette. Oh my.
“Those photos were obscene,” he breathes. “But on the other hand …”
I melt with a mixture of relief to have escaped the clutches of that blackmailing coyote and anticipation of that long baguette. Maybe food porn isn’t such a bad thing after all.
Beep beep! My inner goddess zooms down an endless highway into the sunset, ecstatic and alive.
chicken submarine sandwich with mozzarella
MAKES 6 SERVINGS
6 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1½ tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 tablespoon chopped fresh tarragon or thyme leaves
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 teaspoon grated lemon zest
Coarse kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
12 chicken cutlets (about 2½ pounds)
2 medium-size ripe tomatoes, thinly sliced
¾ pound fresh mozzarella, thinly sliced
6 submarine rolls (or 8-inch lengths of baguette or Italian bread), split and toasted
Butter, as needed (the more the better)
½ cup chopped fresh basil (optional)
1 In a large bowl, whisk together 3 tablespoons of the oil, the lemon juice, tarragon, garlic, lemon zest, and a large pinch of salt and pepper. Transfer 1½ tablespoons of the dressing to a small bowl and set aside. Add the chicken to the remaining dressing in the large bowl and let marinate at room temperature for 30 minutes, or cover and refrigerate for 4 hours or, even better, overnight until it begs for you.
2 In a medium bowl, toss the tomato slices with the reserved lemon-herb dressing and let sit while you cook the chicken.
3 When the chicken can no longer stand the anticipation, heat the remaining 3 tablespoons oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Gently wipe away any clinging bits of garlic from the bird’s soft flesh, and season the cutlets with salt and pepper.
4 Working in batches, sear the chicken, without turning, until golden on one side, 2 to 3 minutes. Top each cutlet with some of the cheese. Cover the pan and cook until the cheese has melted and oozed all over the cutlets and the chicken is quite done, 1 to 2 minutes more.
5 Grease up the toasted rolls liberally with the butter. To assemble the sandwiches, place 1 cutlet on the bottom half of each roll. Top with some of the tomato, then a sprinkling of basil, if using. Repeat the layering of chicken, tomato, and basil; cover each sandwich with the top half of the roll.
chicken sliders with thai flavors and sriracha mayonnaise
Sexy Sliders
Slap! Smack! Whack!
He has me in his twitchy palms, kneading me vigorously and slapping me into patties. Each smack of his hand pushes me closer to the edge of my limits.
“Ow!”
“Stamina, Chicken,” he
says in a low voice.
It’s not the whacking. I’ve come to crave the safe, warm feeling I get after a good licking. It’s the aromatics that are heating me up.
After all we’ve been through, after all the hot and saucy things he’s done to me, at heart I still long to look like myself, to feel like myself, taste like myself. Despite his talk of ingredient expression, he still seems to be hung up on expressing spices through me.
“Ow! We need to talk.”
He stills his hands, and his expression clouds. I’m no longer afraid of Shifty’s moods, but it still makes me pause.
“I can’t take this, night after night,” I explain. “These strong flavors are wearing me out.”
His face looks pained. “You’re leaving me?”
He still doesn’t get it? I feel exasperation welling. “No, you big paranoid fussbudget. I want the chance to express myself. I want the freedom to be me.” I wonder how he feels about losing the cookbook deal. Oh, Little Booklet.
“These flavors are part of what makes us work so well.” He says this with conviction, but his eyes look vulnerable and slightly scared. Is he really afraid I won’t stick around? Poor, messed-up foodie. No, stand your ground, Chicken.
“I want more. I want you to want me for my tasty dark meat and succulent white meat. I want you to crisp my skin.”
“I know, hearts and flowers, a big china platter and a carving knife. And then what? Taters, baby?”
I give up. “Stop kidding around and cook me already.”
“Chicken, do you know you’re delicious when you’re angry?”
chicken sliders with thai flavors and sriracha mayonnaise
SERVES 2
1 pound ground chicken, preferably a mix of light and dark meat
1 tablespoon chopped fresh Thai or regular basil
1 tablespoon Asian fish sauce
1 tablespoon finely grated peeled fresh gingerroot
1½ teaspoons light brown sugar
1 lime, zested and juiced
2 scallions, white and green parts, chopped
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 serrano pepper, seeded and finely chopped
½ cup mayonnaise
2 teaspoons Sriracha or other hot sauce, or to taste
2 tablespoons peanut, safflower, or canola oil
6 slider buns
Sliced tomato, for garnish
Sliced avocado, for garnish
Thinly sliced red onion, for garnish
Kosher salt, to taste
1 In a large bowl, massage the chicken with the basil, fish sauce, ginger, brown sugar, lime zest, scallions, garlic, and serrano pepper until she’s thoroughly inundated with them. In a separate bowl, whisk together the mayonnaise, lime juice, and Sriracha.
2 Form the chicken into 6 equal-size patties (each about ¾ inch thick). Heat a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the oil. Cook the patties until the meat is just cooked through, 3 to 4 minutes per side.
3 Spread some of the mayo mixture on the inside of each slider bun and top with burgers. Garnish with tomato, avocado, and red onion. Sprinkle with salt. Enjoy with plenty of napkins.
roasted chicken with hearts of palm, avocado, and orange salsa
Chicken with Hearts and Flowers
I’m at rest under a big sheet of foil. My legs and breast are warm and relaxed. My skin is perfectly crisped, my insides are still tingling where his fingers seasoned me. Jeez, does he know how to roast a girl.
I’m slightly suspicious, though. He hasn’t spiced or flavored me, just a quick bath in citrus. This isn’t the Shifty Blades I’ve come to expect.
“Ready?” he asks. There’s something different in his voice.
He whisks the sheet off me with a flourish, and I’m struck completely speechless.
There, in front of me, awaits a china platter garlanded with the most beautiful flowers I’ve ever seen. The table is set with exquisite china and silver flatware. Sweet music is playing on the stereo, the Dixie Chicks, I think. A flute of Cristal glistens in the candlelight. On another plate is a heap of garnishes topped with hearts of palm.
“You wanted hearts and flowers,” he says shyly.
I can’t believe he’s done this.
“Here are the hearts …” He pulls over the plate of hearts of palm.
“And these are the flowers,” I whisper, finishing his sentence. “Oh, Blades, it looks delicious.”
“I think it will be wonderful in our cookbook,” he murmurs. There are tears in his eyes.
Little Booklet? “I thought the contract was canceled after your editor stole your recipes, blackmailed you, and tried to blow you up.”
“I had another publisher up my sleeve. You don’t think I’d put all my eggs in one basket, do you?”
My Shifty, my Chef. I know deep down I will always be his and he will always be mine.
roasted chicken with hearts of palm, avocado, and orange salsa
SERVES 4
Zest of ½ orange
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed orange juice
Zest of 1 lime
2 teaspoons freshly squeezed lime juice
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1¾ teaspoons coarse kosher salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 (3½- to 4-pound) whole chicken, patted dry with paper towels
HEARTS AND FLOWERS SALSA
4 oranges, peeled and diced
2 avocados, peeled, pitted, and diced
1 (7.8-ounce) can hearts of palm, drained and chopped
¼ cup chopped red onion
2 jalapeño peppers, seeded and finely chopped
2 teaspoons freshly squeezed lime juice
Coarse kosher salt
Edible flowers, for garnish
1 In a bowl, whisk together the orange and lime zests and juices, garlic, oregano, ¾ teaspoon salt, and ½ teaspoon pepper. Whisk in the oil.
2 Season the cavity of the chicken with the remaining 1 teaspoon salt and ½ teaspoon pepper. Place the chicken in a large bowl. Pour the marinade over the chicken and turn it slowly, until it is completely bathed in marinade. Chill it, covered, for 1 hour.
3 Preheat the oven to 400°F. Place the chicken, breast side up, in a large roasting pan. Roast until the juices run clear when a sharp knife is thrust into the deepest part of the thigh, about 1 hour to 1 hour and 15 minutes. Let the chicken rest for 10 minutes.
4 While the chicken rests, prepare the salsa. In a bowl, fold together the oranges, avocados, hearts of palm, onion, jalapeños, lime juice, and a large pinch of salt.
5 Carve the chicken into pieces and arrange on a large platter. Spoon the salsa over the chicken and strew the flower blossoms over the plate.
classic roast chicken with herb butter
Happy Ending Chicken
I could get used to this china platter. And Shifty seems to enjoy the Cristal. We can afford it now that our cookbook is out. It’s become bigger than we ever dreamed, and ebook sales are skyrocketing. We still visit the toy drawer, but Blades has found ways to satisfy himself without it.
Tonight it’s a little French number. He massages butter under my skin, mixed with herbs that smell of the South of France. Then he ties me up and roasts me gently and completely. The butter is so silky and wet. It brings out the essential me, without the fancy dressings and luxurious sauces.
He sighs. “I just love chicken.”
“I love you too, Chef. Always.”
Sometimes a girl just likes to be treated like a chicken.
classic roast chicken with herb butter
SERVES
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
2 teaspoons herbes de Provence
1 (3½- to 4-pound) whole chicken
1½ teaspoons kosher salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 small bunch fresh thyme
4 smashed
and peeled garlic cloves
1 Preheat the oven to 400°F. In a small bowl, mash together the butter and herbes de Provence. Pat the chicken completely dry with paper towels so that the butter will slide easily along its skin. Massage the chicken inside and out with salt and pepper. Thrust the thyme and garlic deep into the cavity of the chicken.
2 Fill your hand with herb butter and gently slide your fingers beneath the skin of the breast, slathering butter on the flesh. Work your way down to the thighs. Rub additional butter all over the surface of the skin.
3 Tightly truss the chicken according to the instructions. The tighter you truss her, the juicier she will be.
4 Place the chicken on a rack set over a rimmed baking sheet. Roast until the thigh juices run clear and the skin is golden, 1 hour to 1 hour and 15 minutes. Cover with foil and let rest 20 minutes before carving.
MEET SHIFTY BLADES
What the fuck was I thinking? The world isn’t ready for full-on radish cuisine. The radish granita was a hit, but the radish-tini is just too far ahead of its time. Well, one day it will be recognized as a classic. Until then, I’d better get my shit together for the cookbook proposal I’m supposed to write.
As I open the fridge I’m nearly bowled over as a pink cannonball plunges from the top shelf and hits the floor with a dull splat. I roll my eyes and suppress my irritation at this needless disruption in my kitchen.
What’s a chicken doing in my refrigerator anyway? Mrs. Smith is getting careless in her housekeeping. I’ll have to talk to her about following my ingredients lists more precisely. Must I write everything out in capital letters?
I pick up the fallen bird, and push the giblets bag back into her cavity. What a mess. But fuck, look at that skin. It’s perfect. Nearly as pink as the radish. Yes, I must confess, she is an alluring little piece. There might be something I could do with this bird. I imagine what the bite of my new oven would do to that skin—crisp it up beautifully, I suspect. Oh man. Get a grip, Chef. You’ve got work to do.
