Keebler
Honored Contributor (25K+ posts)
Member # 12673
posted
- If you like the sweet, slightly spicy taste of fennel (similar to anise or licorice flavor but more complex and it blends so nicely with onions). There are many ways to short cut this recipe - or use suggestions with many other dishes.
[poster's note: Pernod is an alcoholic liqueur - can be omitted. ONE DROP of a Pure Anise Extract can be substituted, if desired.]
1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice.
1. Trim fennel bulbs, and set aside fronds. In a blender or food processor, pulse about 1/2 cup fronds, garlic, lemon zest and 1/4 teaspoon salt until finely chopped. Add 1/3 cup oil and pur�e.
2. Halve fennel bulbs lengthwise. Slice thinly with a mandoline or very sharp knife.
3. Season chicken with 1/2 teaspoon salt and 1/4 teaspoon pepper. Heat remaining 2 tablespoons oil in a large skillet over high heat. Brown chicken until skin is crisp, about 8 minutes. Transfer chicken to a plate, leaving drippings in pan.
4. Stir fennel seeds into skillet and cook for 30 seconds. Add sliced fennel and onion, seasoning with remaining 1/4 teaspoon salt and 1/4 teaspoon pepper.
Reduce heat to medium and cook, tossing occasionally, until vegetables are caramelized, 15 to 20 minutes. Add Pernod and scrape up any browned bits in the bottom of the skillet; cook until liquid has evaporated, about 1 minute.
5. Lay chicken on top of the fennel-onion mixture. Pour 3 tablespoons water into the pan. Cover skillet and reduce heat to medium-low. Cook until chicken is just cooked through, 8 to 10 minutes. Uncover and cook off any excess liquid if necessary. Stir in lemon juice.
6. Serve chicken and vegetables topped with generous dollops of the fennel frond pur�e. Yield: 4 servings.
By MELISSA CLARK - Published: August 27, 2010 - The New York Times
WHEN I don't know what to make for dinner, I caramelize onions. In the 20 minutes it takes for them to soften and brown, I forage for ingredients and conjure up a plan.
The sweet, golden onions can accommodate whatever I throw at them; they're perfect as a base for soups, stews and saut�s. But usually, I just toss in an assortment of quick-cooking vegetables (like greens, tomatoes or zucchini) and simmer the whole thing down into what my family fondly calls ``vegetable mush.''
It is especially nice with a mound of buttery polenta and a side of some seared protein matter -- boneless chicken, fish or meat. I've been making variations of this dish for years, and it is always extremely satisfying, though never, to tell the truth, terribly exciting.
But I was inspired when I brought home an exuberant bunch of fennel from the farmers' market. The fronds were particularly perky and too unwieldy for the refrigerator.
My immediate thought was to adapt my vegetable mush by caramelizing a thinly sliced fennel bulb with the onions. To play up the licorice flavor, I'd add a pinch of fennel seed and a drizzle of Pernod. The vegetables could serve as a bed for seared chicken thighs, ideal for absorbing the herbal aromatics.
But what about the fronds? Chopped and strewn over the mush, they might add color and flavor, but I wanted something more integrated.
I decided to pur�e the fronds with garlic, lemon zest and olive oil, and then spoon the bright aromatic paste over the chicken and vegetables. The lemon zest and garlic helped to counter the sweetness of the onions and fennel, adding a welcome bite. And the deep green color relieved the dish's overwhelming drab beige hue.
Best of all, the fennel elevated a workaday dinner into a festive dish, with flavors bold enough to make anyone forget its mushy origins -- even me.
I've been making variations of this dish for years, and it is always extremely satisfying, though never, to tell the truth, terribly exciting.
But I was inspired when I brought home an exuberant bunch of fennel from the farmers' market. The fronds were particularly perky and too unwieldy for the refrigerator.
My immediate thought was to adapt my vegetable mush by caramelizing a thinly sliced fennel bulb with the onions. To play up the licorice flavor, I'd add a pinch of fennel seed and a drizzle of Pernod. The vegetables could serve as a bed for seared chicken thighs, ideal for absorbing the herbal aromatics.
But what about the fronds? Chopped and strewn over the mush, they might add color and flavor, but I wanted something more integrated.
I decided to pur�e the fronds with garlic, lemon zest and olive oil, and then spoon the bright aromatic paste over the chicken and vegetables. The lemon zest and garlic helped to counter the sweetness of the onions and fennel, adding a welcome bite. And the deep green color relieved the dish's overwhelming drab beige hue.
Best of all, the fennel elevated a workaday dinner into a festive dish, with flavors bold enough to make anyone forget its mushy origins -- even me.
(Melissa Clark) -
Posts: 48021 | From Tree House | Registered: Jul 2007
| IP: Logged |
joalo
Frequent Contributor (1K+ posts)
Member # 12752
posted
That sounds yummy!!
-------------------- Sick since January 1985. Misdiagnosed for 20 years. Tested CDC positive October 2005. Treating since April 2006. Posts: 3228 | From Somewhere west of the Mississippi | Registered: Aug 2007
| IP: Logged |
The Lyme Disease Network is a non-profit organization funded by individual donations. If you would like to support the Network and the LymeNet system of Web services, please send your donations to:
The
Lyme Disease Network of New Jersey 907 Pebble Creek Court,
Pennington,
NJ08534USA http://www.lymenet.org/
UBBFriend: Email this page to someone!
![[lick]](graemlins/facelick.gif)
Printer-friendly view of this topic