Tag Archives: butter

Veronica’s Buttery Beer Bread

I’m not a baker. It’s just not what I do.

I want to be of the baking persuasion–my idealized visions of my future self involve pulling a tray of hot biscuits out of the oven, enveloping my family with the scents of freshly baked bread as soon as they walk in the door, and serving homemade pies and cakes pretty much every 10 minutes.

But once I actually get into the kitchen, I play with my usual friends–the skillet. The Dutch oven. Mushrooms and heavy whipping cream.

When my blogging friend Veronica from Recipe Rhapsody mentioned her buttery beer bread recipe though, my heart did a little flip flop in my chest. I wanted that bread.

And I wanted it bad.

The word ‘buttery’ probably played a large part.

Guys, you must make this bread. Let me outline the advantages in a strictly logical fashion:

1) It has only 2 ingredients. Okay fine! It has 6. But it feels like 2 when you’re making it.

2) This bread does not need to rise. So after 10 minutes of mixing and only an hour of baking, it’s on the table, baby. This means that you don’t have to plan in advance–you can make this bread on a whim.

3) The hands-on time could probably go below 10 minutes with practiced efficiency. The necessary actions can be summarized as follows: Sift! Stir! Spray! Plop! Bake.

Have you seen the light? Do you seeeee the liiiiiight? (name that movie)

Ingredients

3 c flour

1/4 c sugar

1 tsp salt

1 TBS baking powder

12 oz beer

1 stick butter

Preheat the oven to 375. Sift together the flour . . .

the sugar . . .

the salt . . .

and the baking powder.

Sifty sifty sift . . .

*Please sing a sifting ditty to yourself*

And if you get some granules at the bottom of the sifter like this:

Just press ’em through with the heel of your measuring cup. Like so.

Give it a little stir with a wooden spoon:

Now grab hold of that beer. I used Blue Moon, but any beer should work.

Pour it in. Into the bowl, not your mouth, silly!

Give the whole shebang another stir with the wooden spoon.

I found it easier to finish the mixing process with my big ole hand.

Now grab that dough!

FYI, if you’re like me and feel compelled to taste the raw dough, it won’t taste that delicious. But the flavor changes completely after baking, fear not. I wouldn’t lead you down the primrose path.

Oh, make sure you spray your baking pan. I used a loaf pan, and completely forgot to spray it until my hands looked like this:

That’s when my husband came riding into the kitchen on a white steed and sprayed the pan for me.

Thanks dear. And tell that white steed to wipe off its hooves before it comes back onto my kitchen floor.

Anyway, plop in the dough and push it into as even a shape as you can.

Clean your hands off at this point–and also your camera. Mine had bits of dough on it–I wonder why.

Sorry–I just wanted an excuse to sneak that picture in there again.

Moving on!

Melt the stick of butter.

Pour the melted butter all over the bread.

It’s drowning in the golden stuff. Oh, yes. Bake your golden treat for 1 hour.

Remove it from the oven. The bread should pop right out of the loaf pan thanks to the butter. Cool it on a wire rack for about 10-15 minutes . . .

. . . and dive in!

It’s best fresh, so set your friends and family on it. Don’t expect any leftovers.

Veronica, I’m forever in your debt.

Click here for printer-friendly version: Veronica’s Buttery Beer Bread

Skillet Chicken in a Thyme Red Wine Sauce

This is a savory, incredible-tasting dish with a wine-based sauce that I could drink, folks. It happened spontaneously one night as I envisioned what I could do with some chicken, a jar of artichoke hearts, and some fresh thyme. Clearly garlic, wine, and heavy cream were going to figure in–and mushrooms as well. As all of my favorite ingredients converged, the heavens rejoiced and the stars broke into celestial song. That’s how good it was.

With the exception of the rice I served it with, this is all made in one skillet (minimal dishes), and has all the comforts but none of the complications of a good coq au vin. Suffice it to say that this is the perfect fall meal. With no further ado, let’s get a-cookin’.

Ingredients

(Serves 3)

3 boneless, skinless chicken breasts

1 TBS butter

3 TBS olive oil

1/4 c flour

Salt and pepper

1 large onion

6 cloves garlic

6 oz mushrooms, sliced thickly

12 oz artichoke hearts from a can or jar, drained

25-30 sprigs fresh thyme, divided

1 1/2 c red wine (I used a cabernet merlot)

2 tsp chicken bouillon powder

1 c heavy whipping cream

Please try to ignore the wedge of parmesan in that picture. I quickly ordered it back to its niche in the fridge, while chastising it firmly. “You little attention-getter!” I said, wagging my finger vigorously, “You’d better stay out of my garlic cream sauce!”

Now let’s get the prep done. Thickly slice the mushrooms, mince the garlic, and chop up the onion. I didn’t photograph these steps because I was s’darn hungry! So just pretend I did and let’s keep going. Reserve about 10 sprigs of thyme, but take the leaves off the rest and discard the stems. To easily take the leaves off of the stem, hold it vertically between two fingers (right side up) while pinching the stem between the thumb and index of your opposite hand. Then, starting at the top, simply run your thumb and index downwards. OK, that sounds super confusing. But that’s why we have photography:

The leaves will come right off!

I use meaty mushrooms for this instead of the more common white button mushrooms. The thick slices of good and hearty mushroom were one of my favorite parts of the final dish. They make life worth living.

I mean, can you think of a single recipe I’ve posted here that doesn’t have mushrooms in it? OK, the Chess Pie, you have a point–but seriously: Penne Rosa. Mushroom Sage Pasta. Garlicky Stuffed Portobellos. The Balsamic Pot Roast I’ll be posting about in another week or so. Mushrooms are an essential part of my daily well-being.

But let’s get back to business before I break into a song that starts “Mushrooms are my reason/can’t do without them any season/I must eat them every day/or my joy will fade away.”

Pat the chicken dry with a paper towel. It’s important that the chicken be as dry as possible when it hits the pan, because that will allow it to get a nice brown sizzly sear instead of steaming in its own liquid. Sprinkle the pieces liberally on both sides with salt and pepper . . .

. . . then dredge them through the flour and shake off the excess.

Note: the flour coating will cause the pieces of chicken to absorb some of the red wine sauce later on, which results in the underside of the chicken turning a little purple/red. If that seems unappetizing to you, skip the flour coating and just pan-fry the seasoned chicken directly in the butter and oil.

Heat the butter and olive oil over medium high in a large and deep skillet. When the pan is hot, add the chicken.

Cook about 3 minutes per side, until nicely seared.

Remove the chicken and set it aside. It’s still very raw, but don’t worry, we’ll come back to it. Add more oil to the pan if needed, give it a minute or so to heat, toss in the onion and garlic, and fry for 3-4 minutes.

Add the mushrooms . . .

. . . and continue to cook until they start to brown. This should take about 5 minutes. Now, add the thyme leaves and artichoke hearts.

Cook for 3 more minutes, stirring occasionally.

Pour in the red wine.

Just try not to be like me and splatter the whole surrounding area. It was a bloodbath, folks.

Bring it to a boil and let it cook for 2 minutes. Stir in the bouillon powder. Look at that magic in the making . . .

Place the chicken on top of the veggies and sauce . . .

. . . and top each breast with 2 or so sprigs of thyme. I should probably point out at this juncture that I said this recipe “Serves 3” above. That’s because there are 3 chicken breasts involved, and the principles of Mathematics seemed to call for this equanimity. However, in our house it turned out to be more like 4.5 servings because frankly, there’s no way I can consume an entire chicken breast when my fork keeps returning to the piles of white rice slathered in sauce. Know thyself, and thou shalt know how many servings this would be in your household.

Cover the skillet and turn the heat down to low.

Cook for 12-15 minutes. I cooked mine for closer to 20, and the chicken was starting to get a little dry. Moist, perfectly cooked chicken is a heavenly experience, so let this be a warning to you–don’t overcook it like I did! Take the breasts out after 15 minutes max and test for doneness. When the chicken is just cooked through, uncover the skillet and set the chicken aside. Create an aluminum foil tent to keep it warm and ready. Now add the cup of heavy cream to the sauce . . .

Simmer the sauce and veggies until slightly thickened, about 5 minutes. Taste and reseason.

Serve the chicken over pasta, potatoes or rice, with the veggies and sauce poured over top. Garnish with some more sprigs of thyme.

Here’s the piece of chicken prior to the sauce being poured over in a torrent of amazingness. . .

. . . and here it is after.

Let’s take the mandatory bite . . .

OK, not enough meat in that bite. Let’s take another.

Let’s also visit my husband’s plate. Here it is as he pours on the sauce . . .

. . . and then adds the chicken.

Guys, I love the chicken–but what I live for is that sauce. I can’t wait to make this again.

In fact, if you’re a vegetarian (though if you are it’s unlikely you will have made it this far into the post) just cut out the chicken and make the sauce. That alone is the perfect meal.

Click here for printer-friendly version: Skillet Chicken in a Thyme Red Wine Sauce