Tag Archives: mushrooms

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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Penne Rosa

I had Penne Rosa at Noodles and Company once, and it was then I realized I had to make something similar as quickly as possible. Two months later (yes, that was “as quickly as possible”), I stormed into the grocery store, demanded their entire stock of basil, and made a delicious dish. How similar it is to Noodles and Company, well, I just can’t say: let me remind you that I only had it once, didn’t take notes, and then let two months pass me by. But regardless, it’s fresh and perfect and I loved every bite. I mean, white wine and cream? As I’ve said before and I’ll say again until I draw my final breath, you can’t go wrong with those two things. Oh, and there’s garlic. I’m sorry, excuse me while I step to the side and faint dead away. I love that stuff.

Ingredients

1 lb penne pasta

4 TBS oil, divided

6 cloves garlic, minced

1 bunch asparagus, chopped

8 oz sliced mushrooms

1 c heavy whipping cream

1-28 oz can diced tomatoes

1/2 tsp red pepper flakes

3/4 c white wine

1 tsp brown sugar

3 cups fresh basil leaves, torn

Salt and pepper to taste

Parmesan, for sprinkling

Put your pasta water on to boil. I used mini penne, which boasted a super quick cooking time. I bought it mostly because it was cute, but I also thought it would mingle with the sauce better than its larger counterpart. Here’s the whole happy group together:

Roughly chop your asparagus on the diagonal (after removing the tough ends). This way of cutting it adds surface area to the pieces, which means more spots hit the pan/oil, which in turn adds flavor. Or maybe I’m just making that up.

Heat 2 TBS oil in a pan or pot. When hot, add the asparagus and fry for about 3 minutes. Add salt and pepper.

The asparagus will be bright green and crunchy after those 3 minutes–it’s the right time to remove it.

You don’t want to keep cooking it since it will later rejoin the sauce. If you cook it for too long up front, we’re talking a green mushy mess later.

You’d better have your garlic chopped by now–in this dish, I like it slivered instead of minced. The cooking time takes the edge off of the garlicky flavor, so encountering a larger chunk or slice is actually quite a pleasant experience.

Heat the remaining oil in the same pot over medium high heat. Add the garlic and mushrooms, and cook for 5 minutes, stirring often so that the garlic doesn’t burn. 

Add salt, pepper, and the red pepper flakes while it’s cooking.

The brown bits. Oh, the brown bits. I would lick them out of the pot if it didn’t mean cooking my own tongue in the process.

Add the wine, and cook for about 3 minutes, scraping the bottom to make sure all those brown bits get incorporated, loved, and assimilated.

Now, add the tomatoes.

Cook over high heat for 15 minutes, until reduced by half. You don’t want a watery sauce, so let it boil away aggressively. Add the brown sugar somewhere along the line.

Your (salted) pasta water should boil somewhere along the way . . . so get that goin’. Just look at those precious little noodles!

Now, add the cream to your sauce. Cook for another 5 minutes over medium high, letting the sauce thicken.

Please try to avoid drinking the whole concoction at this point. My mamma taught me that patience is a virtue . . . but one little spoonful can’t hurt, right? Mamma?

During the last minute of cooking, add the asparagus back in. A couple of my basil leaves snuck in too, but for the rest of you, hold those back for one more minute.

Now, take the sauce off the heat–trust me–and add the basil. I added half the basil at this point, and half after it was served into individual bowls. You don’t want to basil to cook and wilt–it’s best in this dish when it’s fresh, green, and as crunchy as it can be.

Once your pasta is cooked and drained, dump it into the pot with the sauce and mix it all together. You know what’s happening in that pot? One big lovefest.

Serve and sprinkle with parmesan, or parmesan shavings if you want to feel fancy. 

Click here for printer-friendly version: Penne Rosa