Sometimes I head one way and end up somewhere else. At the supermarket the other day I spotted a package of eight boneless, skinless chicken thighs for a price well below that of the breasts. I really like the meaty flavour of the thigh so they sailed straight into my cart and made it safely home to my fridge.
Last night they caught my eye yet again and I decided a batch of my famous braised chicken and tomato sauce would taste great smothering some kind of pasta. Gabe and Rachel love the stuff and since I hadn’t made it in a while I started heating a saucepot and was soon browning off the thighs in olive oil. That’s when the train went off the track. Normally the meat would be smothered in a can of tomatoes but I soon discovered we were tomato-less. Sacre bleu!
‘Braising’ is really just a fancy way of saying ‘stew’ which just means to simmer until tender in a flavourful liquid so I started looking at my liquid options. I didn’t have any chicken stock but I did have orange juice. Orange basil chicken? I also had apple juice. Apple cinnamon chicken with raisins? Maybe next winter. A half full bottle of Australian Shiraz? Sold!
After filling the nearest wine glass I poured the remainder of the bottle into the pot, added a healthy sprinkle of dried thyme, a few chopped onions and a bay leaf. I brought everything to a slow simmer, added a tight fitting lid and knew I was on the right track when Rachel suddenly noticed how good the kitchen smelled. I also knew that pasta night would have to be postponed. Somehow the new chicken direction called for something besides noodles. After a quick toss in olive oil, salt and pepper a pan of baby potatoes was soon roasting away.
Thirty minutes later we were enjoying a rustic bowl of tender, aromatic chicken and broth over a handful of smashed potatoes. Not quite where I thought we’d end up but at the end of dinner every bowl was empty!