Tag Archives: cream

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.

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Pasta Fresca

This pasta dish with sweet white wine, balsamic vinegar, and veggies is incredible. Here’s how it came about. While casting about online for a copycat recipe for Noodles and Company’s Penne Rosa (you can see my version here), I came across the ingredient list for their Pasta Fresca dish. I’d never actually eaten it before, but I found the ingredients inspiring and created this little number a few nights later. About a month after that, I had the chance to order the ‘real’ Pasta Fresca at Noodles and Company, and discovered there was pretty much no likeness between their dish and mine. Similar ingredients, but completely different flavor profiles. Now I would have my version over theirs any day, but all I can say it make it and judge for yourselves–it’s simple and fresh and you will just love it. Here’s how to make it:

Ingredients

(Serves 3)

1/2 lb angel hair pasta

2 TBS olive oil

5-6 cloves garlic, sliced

2 TBS balsamic vinegar

6 roma tomatoes

1 red onion

salt to taste

ground black pepper

1 tsp cracked black peppercorns (heaping)

1/2 c sweet white wine (moscato)

1/3 c heavy whipping cream

5 oz baby spinach

handful basil leaves

Shaved Parmesan, to serve

First, chop all the ingredients: the onion . . .

. . . the tomatoes . . .

. . . and the garlic. Though I do like to thinly slice my garlic for this instead of mincing it.

You can also roughly chop the basil at this point, though that won’t go in until the end. Save a couple leaves to do some chiffonade. It will make everything prettier when you serve it.

While we’re at it prepping ingredients, let’s measure out those black peppercorns and give them a bashing with the old mortar and pestle. If you look closely, peppercorns are wrinkly and hilarious. Sometimes I like to eat one whole. It lights my mouth on fire, and also fills it with an almost lemony tang. If I were in the wilderness with no toothbrush, I would grab a peppercorn from a nearby peppercorn tree. It really makes your mouth, sinuses, and entire being feel cleaned out. Live on the wild side and crunch a peppercorn!

Hooray! Pulverized peppercorns. There’s nothing as pungent, spicy, and wonderful.

Except for Thai red chilis. Those suckers are just fantastic. Though you won’t find me eating one of those whole! No way.

Heat 2 TBS olive oil over medium high heat. Add the onion and garlic; cook for 4 minutes.

Add the balsamic vinegar. Reduce the heat to low and cook 5 minutes. The liquid should be gone at the end, completely absorbed by the onions. You could probably stop here and just eat some delicious balsamic onions. Though since the heavy cream hasn’t yet been involved, stopping here could also be the biggest mistake of your week. Or your life? Hard to say.

Add salt and pepper too, while you’re at it.

Add the chopped tomatoes. Turn up heat to medium high and cook for 2 minutes.

Add the sweet white wine. It’s very important that you use a sweet wine such as moscatel (I’ve seen this labeled “muscat” or “moscato” as well), because a dry white wine would give this sauce a radically different flavor. Take a swig while you’re at it–no one’s looking! They say it’s good for you, too. Seriously! I read it in Martha Stewart Living! Or was that red wine?

Cook for 15 minutes on medium high–it should be at a rapid simmer the whole time. The liquid should mostly reduce by the time you’re done.

Add the cream and cracked black peppercorns.

Cook on medium 3 minutes. Did someone just say “paradise”? Or did I inadvertently speak aloud?

Turn down heat to low and add spinach and basil. Yes, it looks like an invasion of the pot has taken place, but the heat will quickly cut these green intruders down to size.

Cook for 1-2 minutes, until just wilted.

I forgot to add the peppercorns with the cream, so I added them now instead.

Take your set-aside basil leaves and chiffonade them. Here’s how: roll up a leaf nice and tight . . .

. . . and slice it crosswise!

Couldn’t be easier, especially if you’re not trying to hold the knife and the leaf with one hand because your other hand is on your camera’s shutter release. Look at this precious little pile of curly-wurlies.

Will you forgive me if I promise never to say “curly wurlies” again?

Serve the sauce with the pasta, topped with basil chiffonade and parmesan.

Would you just look at this beauty?

Let’s take a generous bite . . .

Hey! Who ate my . . . ?! What the . . . !? Oh . . . *patting stomach* . . . it might have been me. Well, thankfully there’s more where that came from. Time for seconds:

And I’m pleased to say, second verse same as the first: AMAZING!

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