Roast chicken and salvation

the bottle: Boekenhoutskloof 'The Wolftrap' Red Western Cape 2008 (South Africa)
the movie: To Kill a Mockingbird, 1962
the meal: Edna Lewis roast chicken with herbs, Bill Neal spoon bread with grits, chiffonade of collards, lemon cake pudding

Sara and I did finally drag the tree out of the house this weekend, and we miss it already. The cats miss it, too. Although, we don’t miss the cats missing the tree. And that corner of the living room has now been reclaimed and we can return the armchair and floor lamp to their rightful places. We are officially ready for a grounded take-off into two thousand and ten.

Because Monday, January 18th, is Martin Luther King Jr. Day, I want to pay homage to the man and the meaning. I’ll get to the food in a moment, but in the spirit of Dr. King, perhaps we can all create a miniature form of his “Beloved Community” in each of our own households. This can include any and all in-laws, friends, grandkids and grandparents, partners, pets, and any hungry neighbors you can coax in from the cold. And if you’re just cooking for one, then make yourself feel like 10,000! (Multiply recipe by x2500 in your head.)

And thus, the meal for this special occasion is inspired by the great food culture of the south, from two renowned chefs who blazed trails—and broke barriers—to lift southern food out of the south. And since this blogger spent a good portion of his formative years between Chapel Hill and Durham, NC, there is particular affinity here for their legacies, even if they don’t come with a basketball.

Edna Lewis was born the granddaughter of an emancipated slave in Freetown, Virginia, and went on to become the grande dame of “Southern cuisine” cooking. Often called “the South’s answer to Julia Child,” she established her reputation at Café Nicholson in New York City in 1949. Catapulting from seamstress to celebrated chef by bringing primal comfort food to the continental-cuisine-inured smart set forty years ahead of her time, she created culinary magic in a tiny Belle Epoque brownstone space, and Café Nicholson became a landmark haunt among high society and high bohemia — frequented by the likes of William Faulkner, Marlon Brando, Tennessee Williams, Truman Capote, Gloria Vanderbilt and Marlene Dietrich. So her food is good. And it touched a nerve.

One dish they all came for was this perfectly gorgeous and finger-drippingly succulent roast chicken with rustic herbs. Edna made it really simple, using a lavish butter-herb rub, and semi-blasting it at 425° until caramelized-crisp. They gobbled it up. And you’ll gobble it up, too. Note: she recommended brining, as do I, but this requires a bit more planning. (Put the bird in brine the day before.)

Bill Neal was another creative thinker who helped establish respect for southern regional cooking in the 80’s, most impressively with Crooks Corner in Chapel Hill. His iconic shrimp and grits at that restaurant paved the way for the likes of Ben and Karen Barker, and even, dare I say, Bobby Flay.

For our meal, I see his spoon bread with grits as the perfect counterpoint to Edna’s savory, moist chicken. This creamy, fluffy, and tender-crunchy spoon bread manages to feel both unctuously rich and ethereally light all at once, thanks to a few whipped egg whites gently folded in.

To say that these two dishes and their creators are symbiotic goes beyond the tastes to the times—Edna was an African-American woman in the coming of age of civil rights, and Bill Neal was a gay white man in the late 70’s and 80’s when AIDS — which took his life at 41 — was just beginning to impact the world. Each created a powerful mark in spite of, and perhaps because of, their marginalization.

I realize we went the sautéed greens route last week, but there really is no better third party for this party than collards. It’s too bad that collards get a bad rap, because they can become wondrous in the right hands—and tonight, those will be yours. But we’re going to do them quite differently. Instead of the classic long slow simmer in liquid, which often results in a murky mush, we chiffonade them into long thin strips and practically stir-fry them so that they have a crunchy, light texture. And they take about a quarter of the time. This sweet and salty, pillowy haystack of toothsome greens is a whole foods treat and a nutritional powerhouse, packed with fiber, carotenes, chlorophyll, manganese, vitamins B1, B2, B6, C, E, and several minerals, including iron, copper, and calcium. Whew! All of this goodness in such a tasty dish. (As far as I’m concerned, this can be a weeknight dinner all by itself.)

Rounding out our meal is a simple and honest lemon cake pudding, which is exactly what it sounds like—a cake-pudding hybrid that is miraculously light in its pudding-ness. The lemon zest keeps this uncomplicated dessert in the angles and edges, and it’s easy on the mouth, too. Rapturously moist and bright, crisp and yielding, this southern-style classic will linger with you and leave you craving more.

This week’s movie is none too simple, but powerfully honest. It is the story of perhaps our best selves, in the light of our worst selves, the story of innocence and faith in the battle over fear and violence—and barely winning. It’s a story that we all still struggle with today, and in light of Monday’s memorial day of service for Martin Luther King, Jr., it is a fitting tale.

In a small Depression-era Alabama town, lawyer Atticus Finch, played big-heartedly by Gregory Peck, takes on the case of an innocent black man accused of assaulting a white girl. He’s up against the entrenched racial power structure of the Old South, and riding on it is not just his pride, but also the future for his children and country.

In To Kill a Mockingbird, children are the lenses through which we see ourselves, and that makes this movie quite touching. Specifically, the story—based on Harper Lee’s 1961 Pulitzer Prize-winning book that we all know from high school—is told from the point of view of Atticus Finch’s 6-year old daughter, Scout. Together with her brother Jem and friend Dill, they go about their curious and rambunctious lives, growing up as spirited children in what almost feels like a more innocent time.

A mysterious and alluring thread in the story is the character of Boo Radley, their reclusive man-child neighbor, who they fear throughout the movie until the end when he shows his true self—as a gentle and sensitive hero. And as an albino-like white man, Lee cleverly presents us with dimensions of our moral character using an ironic device in skin color—the children fear Boo Radley, an albino, because they don’t understand or empathize with him, until the end when he proves himself and their ignorance is exposed; and the “adults” fear the black man (in Tom Robinson) because he too is something and someone they don’t understand, and therefore have no empathy for. Sadly, the vilified Tom Robinson finds no salvation, and our sense of self is left morally off balance. It was a powerful theme for me and, while perhaps a bit obvious, struck me quite viscerally.

Beautifully, the angst in the movie all happens within the greater context of a child’s world of wonder, innocence, and beauty—a world almost utopian in its glorified send-up, and captured gorgeously in the opening credits with a languorous pan across objects of heightened wonder from a child’s secret box of treasures. See it for this sequence alone, and the score, from Elmer Bernstein, which is hauntingly beautiful. The movie will leave you a changed person, even in some small way. And methinks a better one.

What to sip while this incredible story unfolds? In presenting the right wine for the meal and the message, I found a wine from a progressive South Africa vintner to be a good match in more ways than one. A free(er) South Africa is making very good wines that are somewhat affordable—ours was $9—and vintners like Boekenhoutskloof (try saying that three times very quickly after one glass) are taking important steps towards more sustainable operations in production, with an emphasis on biodiversity and conservation.

Boekenhoutskloof is one of the oldest farms situated up the "Valley" in the Franschhoek foothills of the Western Cape. The name Wolftrap is a tribute to the pioneers who in the early days of the Cape, erected a wolf trap at Boekenhoutskloof, although no wolf either real or mystical has been seen in the valley in many years. For a quick translation from Afrikaner, Boekenhoutskloof, pronounced ‘book-n-howed-skloof,’ means ‘ravine of the indigenous Cape birch tree that was greatly prized for furniture making,’ or words to that effect.

This wine is a red blend, which includes Syrah, Mourvedre and Viognier, and has lots of seductive ripe black fruits, with some meaty, spicy, and wood smoke characteristics. I got some chocolate in the aroma and a touch of white pepper, which are beautiful matches for the maple and smoky essences in the collards. Once this bottle is gone, you might just decide to go back and get a case.

The meal part

Edna Lewis’ roast chicken with herbs
Serves 4
One 3.5-pound chicken, brined*
4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, softened
Salt
Pepper
3/4 tsp thyme
Small onion, peeled and quartered
1/2 cup water

*brining a bird
Stir kosher salt into cold water until dissolved; 1/4 cup salt to 1 quart of water. (Don’t use table salt because it will be too salty.) Mix enough brine to cover the poultry completely in a (nonreactive) bowl or pot. Store refrigerated for 8 to 24 hours.

Preheat oven to 425°. Dry the bird, inside and out, with paper towels. Mix together the softened butter, salt, pepper, and thyme, and rub all over the chicken, and inside the cavity as well. Truss the chicken with twine, making sure you secure the wing tips and tie the legs so that the whole bird is in a tight, plump form. Roast in pan with onion and water for 40 minutes without opening the oven door. Then, remove the roasting pan and pour off the fat and juices from the bottom of the pan into a small bowl; reserve. Return the chicken to the oven for approximately 20 minutes longer or until the juices from the thigh run clear when pierced. Remove from oven, and transfer chicken and the onion to a warm platter. Tent with foil while you prepare the sauce. Skim off any visible fat from the bottom of the roasting pan, as well as from the roasting juices reserved in the bowl. Set the pan over high heat, and pour the juices in, scraping the bottom of the pan with a large spoon to dislodge any browned bits and caramelized juices. Boil hard for 2 or 3 minutes, until the juices have reduced slightly. You should have just a small amount of delicious sauce. Taste critically, and adjust the seasoning if needed. Carve and serve with some of the carmelized onion, spooning a little sauce over each serving. Mmmm. Tasting it all over again as I write.

Bill Neal’s spoon bread with grits
Serves 4
1 cup yellow cornmeal
1/4 cup uncooked grits
2 1/2 cups water
1/4 cup butter
1 cup half-and-half
1 teaspoon salt 3 eggs, separated (A foolproof and deliciously tactile method: pour the broken egg into your cupped fingers and let the white slip into a bowl below.)
I take the liberty off adding about a cup of fresh or frozen organic corn to this recipe, and if you like, some minced jalapeño sans seeds.

In a medium saucepan over low heat, combine the cornmeal, grits, and water. Cook slowly, stirring frequently, until mixture is thick and smooth, about 30 minutes. Add corn if you are using it. Beat in the butter, half-and-half, and salt. Beat egg yolks then beat into the cornmeal mixture. Beat egg whites until soft peaks form; fold gently into the cornmeal mixture. Pour batter into a lightly buttered 8-inch square baking pan; bake in a preheated 375° oven for about 30 minutes, until lightly browned and irresistible.

Quick-fried collards with maple and bacon
Serves 4
1 large bunch collard greens, about 1 1/2 pounds
3 tablespoons olive oil
6 cloves garlic, minced
3 slices of thick smoky bacon, cut into small pieces
1 tbsp stock
1 tbsp cider vinegar (or any wine vinegar will do)
Salt
Fresh ground pepper
1 tbsp of grade B maple syrup
A few dashes hot pepper sauce, optional

Cut off tough stems and center vein from collards, and then roll up and cut leaves into 1/4-inch strips. You should have about 6-8 packed cups. In a well-seasoned heavy skillet or wok, heat the olive oil over medium-high heat. Add the garlic and bacon and cook, stirring, until bacon is mostly cooked through. Add collards and cook, stirring constantly, for about 10 minutes, until the greens are tender. Add maple syrup and stir in. Cover and lower heat to medium low. Cook for a few more minutes, stopping before the greens lose their integrity. Season with the salt, pepper, and a few drops of hot pepper sauce, if desired. Smackin’ good!

Lemon Cake Pudding
Adapted from Georgia Kyser in Remembering Bill Neal
1 cup sugar
2 tbsp melted butter
3 eggs, separated (see technique above)
3 tbsp flour
¼ tsp salt
1 1/2 cups milk, scalded
Grated zest and juice of 1 lemon

Preheat oven to 350°. For this recipe, you’ll need a baking pan big enough to hold a 1 ½ qt shallow casserole or gratin dish. Mix together the sugar, flour, and salt. Beat egg yolks till thick. Add milk, lemon juice and zest, and melted butter. Lightly blend the dry ingredients and the egg yolk mixture until well mixed. Beat the egg whites until stiff peaks form. Fold the egg whites into the batter, ever so gently. Pour batter into the greased 1 1/2-qt shallow casserole or gratin dish. Then, place this casserole into the larger pan and fill with water half way up the side of the casserole. Place in the center of the oven and bake for 50 minutes, or until the top is golden brown and delicious-looking. Eat warm and with glee.