Chicken with Creamy Mustard Sauce

I have a secret to confess--I've had a lifelong love affair with mustard.  It all started innocently enough.  A little Cheap Yeller Mustard on a hot dog as a kid.  Next thing you know, I'm jonesin' every time the Grey Poupon commercial comes on.  I've got it bad, friends.  There's nigh on fifteen different mustards stashed away in my fridge and cupboard.  Maybe more.

I've even visited Dijon, France, surely the Mecca of the mustard world if there ever was one.  It's a place so wonderful the mustard truly flows from taps instead of beer.

I'm not kidding.  Mustard on tap in Dijon, France

The Eat'n Man loves him some Mustard on tap!

So, if you're into the 'yellow fairy' as much as I am, the best thing to do is just embrace your inner mustard-aholic and use it with wild abandon.  And mustard is not just something to slather on your burger or corn dog, It's a viable ingredient in its own right, and it veritably sings in this savory chicken dish here.

Mustard Chicken

2 Chicken Breasts, Sliced in Half Crosswise into Cutlets
4 Tablespoons Butter
2 Tablespoons Olive Oil
8 Oz White or Crimini Mushrooms
1 Large Shallot, Chopped
2/3 Cup White Wine
3 Cloves Garlic, Minced
3 Tablespoons Traditional (Smooth) Dijon Mustard
3 Tablespoons Whole Grain Dijon Mustard
1 Cup Heavy Cream
1/2 Cup Chicken Stock
1 Tablespoon Fresh Tarragon

Melt butter with the olive oil in a large skillet.

While it's melting, slice your chicken breasts in half crosswise, along the flat,

so that you have two thin cutlets from each breast.  Sauté the breasts until they are golden brown and just cooked through.

Don't overcook 'em.  In fact, you might undercook 'em a bit, since you will be holding them in a warm oven while we make the sauce.  You can check to make sure they are done before you serve.

Transfer the breasts to a casserole dish and hold in a 225˚F oven until ready to serve.

Meanwhile, make your sauce.

Slice your mushrooms in half

and sauté them until they are golden brown and soft.

Reserve.  Add the white wine to the skillet and deglaze.

Chop the shallot...

...and add it to the skillet.

Add the garlic.  If you have a fancy garlic press like we do, it can make short work of mincing.

Now, the mustard.

Ah, I can't help admiring the freshly opened jars of yellow goodness.  We're using two types of Dijon mustard today to really ramp up the flavor.  You could of course try other sorts and you'd probably come up some something nice as well.

Add the mustards to the skillet and stir to combine.

Add the cream.

Add the chicken stock and the tarragon.

Stir while you simmer the sauce for a few minutes.

Taste and adjust with salt and pepper as necessary.

Serve immediately over the chicken.  You can reintroduce the mushrooms to the sauce before hand, or just some 'em on the side, as we've done here.

Until Next Time,


Bon Appetit!

Chris

Duck Breast in Red Wine Sauce

Ah, Duck.  While it's one of the great delicacies of the culinary world, Duck is one dish in which many Americans never partake.  This is a shame, because Duck is rich, savory, succulent and full of flavor; it's surprisingly meaty, almost like a beefsteak, and it holds up well to fancy, full-flavored sauces like this red wine sauce presented here.

Duck should be on your culinary agenda to try--and not just at that fancy French restaurant that you've been meaning to try.  Duck is quite easy to prepare at home, and--though not foolproof, it can be quite simple.  This dish here is about as simple as it gets, but your guests will think you slaved away at this one with as much rich flavor as it ha.  And the thing is, even though we are saucing it up, most of the flavor comes from the duck meat itself.

Duck Breast in Red Wine Sauce

1 10-12 Oz Duck Breast
2/3 Cup Beef Stock
2/3 Cup Red Wine
1 Tablespoon Tomato Paste
1 Teaspoon Lemon Juice
2 Tablespoons Butter
Dash Herbs de Province
Salt and Black Pepper to Taste

First, get a hold of a good duck breast.  Round here, this isn't something you can usually find in your run of the mill grocery store.  We found what we were looking for at Central Market, where we opted to spend a little extra to go with a Muscovy Duck Breast, rather than run-of-the-mill Mallard.

Since it was just the two of us, one breast (at almost a pound) was plenty to split.  If you've got more mouths to feed, just multiply the ingredients above as needed.

To begin, score the skin side of the breast with a sharp knife

in a crosshatched pattern.

This will help the breast cook evenly and allow it to release its precious fat.  Whatever you do, don't ever remove the skin--its perhaps the best part--it crisps up nicely and also has a great deal of the duck fat that we'll be using later.

Sauté the duck breast skin side down 

over medium-high heat in a skillet for around ten minutes.  This is one of the few cases when you won't have to add any oil or fat to the pan first--the breast will release its own as you sauté.  

After a few minutes, the breast begins to release its fat

This duck fat is like gold, or maybe even platinum.  It is rich, decadent and flavorful.  If you have never had French fries fried in duck fat then you are truly missing out.  Always save the duck fat when you cook a dish like this.  You can freeze it and keep it for several months, or better still, use it to make a side dish for your duck breast.  Vegetables or mushrooms sautéd in duck fat are fabulous; you could also toss some potato chunks in the fat and then roast them, or even scramble your eggs the following morning in a little bit of it.  Today, we'll be reserving some for our sauce.  

Reserved Duck Fat  -- Pure Gold, Baby!

After the skin side of the breast crisps up, flip it and cook on the other side for another five minutes or so.  

Of course take a moment and admire that beautifully crisped skin.

Using a meat thermometer, check the temp of the breast at its thickest part.  Duck is poultry, so the USDA is gonna tell you to cook it to 160F, but this will dry it out and toughen it.  Duck, however, is also a red meat, and thus you can get away with medium rare, which is what we prefer, around 135 F on the thermometer.  Pull the breast when it is this temp 

and keep warm.  

Remove all but about two tablespoons of the duck fat from the skillet.  (reserve that fat!)  Add the beef stock to the skillet.  

Add the red wine.  

Add the tomato paste.  

Stir to combine.  Add the lemon juice

Add the butter.  Stir until melted.  

Add the herbs and then salt and pepper to taste.  Cook until sauce thickens a bit.  

Slice the breast crosswise 

from one end to the other.  

Serve immediately with the sauce.  

Until next time, 

Chris

Welsh Rarebit

You all know I love cheese, so how could I not love Welsh Rarebit: an utterly British dish of toasty bread slathered with rich melted cheese thinned with ale then broiled.  I first tried this dish on a pub crawl during a sojourn to London, but I’d heard of it years earlier, when I was a kid.  I still remember the place I first heard of Welsh Rarebit—it was of course the place where one usually hears of Welsh Rarebit:  The Gomer Pyle TV Show. 

Admit it, you watched it.  We all did.  We didn’t know any better back then.  Well, there was this one episode where Gomer started sleepwalking and doing crazy things (well, crazy for Gomer) like yelling at his Sergeant and generally not being himself.  It turned out that the cause of all this was that he had been eating Welsh Rarebit every day for dinner.  Apparently there’s been a long-standing belief that eating Welsh Rarebit causes strange dreams. 

Where did that come from?  How could melted cheese on toast cause strange dreams?

To the Internet, Robin!  Turns out that there was a very weird comic strip in the early part of the 1900s that was called Dreams of the Rarebit Fiend.  This strip, which prefigured The Far Side by three-quarters of a century, presented the bizarre, surreal dreams of people who had eaten Welsh Rarebit before bed. 

This strip was apparently the source of the notion that Rarebit causes weird dreams.  The author of the strip (Winsor McCay) originally drew a one-shot comic strip called Dream of the Tobacco Fiend.  His Editor liked it, but apparently he didn’t want to offend the tobacco fiends of the world, thus he suggested McCay replace the word ‘tobacco’ with something completely innocuous and innocent.  Their choice:  Welsh Rarebit.  I have to admit that the juxtaposition is funny because of its absurdity.  But of course Rarebit got a weird reputation ever since.

Well, reputation be dammed!  This is a delicious dish that one shouldn’t miss. 

Welsh Rarebit, dispite the ‘Welsh’ moniker, is not from Wales (my ancestral homeland, no less) but in fact the dish is quintessentially English.  The name may have originally been ‘Welsh Rabbit;’ it is speculated that this was either a slight against the Welsh in that they couldn’t afford a real rabbit, and that they had a supposed fondness for cheese. 

  

Welsh Rarebit

4 Tablespoons Butter

1/4 Cup Flour

2 Tablespoons Dry English Mustard

1/2 Teaspoon Cayenne Pepper

2 Tablespoon Worcestershire Sauce

12 Oz Beer (Preferably an English Ale or Bitter)

2 Cups Cheddar, Grated

3 or more Slices of Crusty Bread, Toasted

Melt Butter in a large skillet.  

When it has melted, sift in the flour 

and allow to cook for a couple of minutes.  Add the Cayenne 

and the English Mustard.  

Add the Worcestershire Sauce 

and then the beer.  

Allow this to simmer for a few minutes, 

then add your cheese.  

Stir over medium heat until the cheese is melted. 

Toast your bread slightly (not too dark, as it’s going back under the broiler in a moment with the cheese)  You can use slices of ‘white bread’ if you want, but I find some nice slices of baguette or Italian bread work best, and make a nicer presentation. 

Slather the toasted bread with the cheese sauce.

Make sure you cover the tops of the bread slices completely.  

Place the slices under the broiler.  Keep a close eye on them.  Pull ‘em out when just start to turn golden brown and bubbly. 

.

Serve immediately, but watch out, they’ll be hot. 

Until next time,

Sweet dreams….