Read Fifty Shades of Chicken: A Parody in a Cookbook Online
Authors: F.L. Fowler
Fifty Shades of Chicken: A Parody in a Cookbook (4 page)
1
Heat 2 tablespoons of the oil in a large pot over medium-high heat. Add half of the chicken and brown it well all over, stirring, 5 to 7 minutes. Season the chicken with ¾ teaspoon salt and ½ teaspoon pepper. Transfer the chicken to a paper towel–lined platter. Repeat with the remaining chicken, 2 tablespoons of oil, another ¾ teaspoon salt, and the pepper.
2
Add the remaining tablespoon of oil to the pan and then stir in the tomato paste. Cook, stirring, until the paste is fragrant, 1 to 2 minutes. Stir in the onions, bell pepper, garlic, and serrano or jalapeño. Cook until the vegetables are golden, about 10 minutes. Stir in the chili powder and remaining 1½ teaspoons salt; cook 1 minute. Return the chicken to the pot. Add the tomatoes, beer, beans, and 1 cup water. Reduce the heat to medium and simmer very gently until thick, about 30 minutes. Stir in the cilantro and the lime juice to taste.
3
Ladle the chili into bowls. Serve topped with sour cream and cheddar cheese.
LEARNING THE ROPES
How spicy do you like your fowl? If you want the pleasure of a seared tongue, leave the seeds in the chiles. If you prefer a milder, slower build to spicy satisfaction, you can de-seed them (use gloves or you’ll regret it later). The choice of how to enjoy this is yours.
roasted chicken with tangerine and sage
T
rust me?” he whispers.
“Yes …” That is not entirely true, and my pulse starts to race.
“Good girl. Do you have any idea what I’m about to do to you?” he asks, caressing my raised breast with a coil of 16-ply twine. The touch of the natural filament is shockingly sensual. The deepest, darkest parts of me clench in the most delicious fashion.
“No,” I breathe.
“No, what?” he asks menacingly.
“No, Chef.”
He takes a tangerine and eases it slowly, slowly into my orifice until it’s buried in me.
Oh, the fullness.
His deft fingers draw a length of twine from the coil. Adrenaline spikes through me like a carving fork.
He ties my ankles together tightly. The twine is tight but not so that it bites into my skin. I feel restrained but strangely free. An electric charge thrills dangerously up my spine.
“You have a captivating, perfect tail, Miss Hen,” he says. “How I will enjoy biting it.”
Oh my.
He inserts me into the Wolf and my flesh succumbs to the rushing waves of heat. Juices flow in torrents inside me as my doneness builds, engorging me down
there—
and everywhere else. I have never felt so ready. So evenly, so dreamily ready.
He pulls me out of the oven.
“Hmm. You are so sweet, Miss Chicken.” He reaches over for a package of foil and rips off a sheet.
My body is responding—
now
. All it takes is one quick thrust of the meat thermometer, and I become all flesh and sensation, my gushing juices running utterly clear.
SERVES 4
1 (3½- to 4-pound) chicken, patted dry with paper towels
1½ teaspoons coarse kosher salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 tangerine, cut into quarters
1 small bunch sage leaves
Extra-virgin olive oil, for drizzling
1
Preheat the oven to 400°F. Season the chicken all over, including the cavity, with the salt and pepper. Thrust the tangerine and sage deep into the cavity of the chicken.
2
Move the stuffed bird, breast side up, splayed legs facing you, on a large, empty surface where you will have plenty of space for maneuvering. Take a 30-inch length of butcher’s twine and string it underneath the chicken’s back. Pull both sides of the string up over the chicken’s wings. Cross the ends of the strings over each other and give them a yank, pulling the wings tight to the body (
see photo 1
). Do not slacken or let go of the twine.
3
Now that you have tightly secured the wings, it is time to bind the body and legs. Pull the ends of the twine underneath the legs, crossing it underneath the bird, and wrap it around the ankles, binding them together. Wrap twine several times to make sure the ankles are tightly bound (
see photo 2
). Wrap the twine around the tail, pulling it tight to close up the cavity. Give the twine once last tug to make sure the bindings are secure, then knot the string. Trim any excess twine and step back to admire your handiwork.
4
Place the chicken breast side up on a rack set over a rimmed baking sheet. Drizzle with oil. Roast until the thigh juices run clear when pierced with the tip of a knife and the skin is crisp and golden, about 1 hour and 15 minutes. Let rest 20 minutes before cutting the restraints and having your way with it.
LEARNING THE ROPES
Much pleasure and satisfaction is to be had from tying up your bird. Not only does it show your chicken who’s boss, but a tight binding ensures the chicken cooks exactly how you want it—evenly, moist, and tender. It also closes off the chicken’s cavity, so the juices swelling within can’t spill out, at least not until you’re ready for them.
Chicken
H
e picks me up from the shelf and I notice for the first time an ingredients list posted on the door of the Sub-Zero. His list reads as bossy and kinky as he talks, and it includes peanuts, chocolate, raisins—
and me
. Pervy.
“Are we making cookies?” I cluck coquettishly.
He glances at the list and narrows his eyes at me playfully. “No, Miss Hen. I haven’t figured out how to make you a dessert. Yet.” He quirks his lips into a smile. “I have something more—elaborate—planned for today.”
“Ah, well. What if I don’t feel elaborate today?”
“You don’t want to cook?” he asks.
“Not
just
cook,” I murmur tentatively. Am I really going to ask?
“I see.” He frowns.
Okay, here goes nothing.
“I want you to make dinner with me. Simple. Normal. Unfinessed.”
His face clouds. Shit, this isn’t going well.
He cocks his head from one side to the other. And again. Jeez, he’s really discombobulated.
“You want candles and linen, hearts and flowers,” he says. “But I don’t know how to do that, Chicken. My tastes are very particular.”
“I want you to taste only me. Taste me for what I am. Clean your plate. Mop up my juices with bread …”
He takes a dazed step back, and for a moment the air grows tense.
“Please,” I whisper.
“I don’t know,” he mutters, and he stalks off to find something.
My subconscious is hopping mad.
Now you’ve done it. You’ve made him chicken out.
But he returns with that foxy look in his eyes. His apron hangs off his hips in that way that makes my whole body gabble with glee. He’s holding something. It’s a chunk of chocolate.
Oh shit, he really knows how to distract a girl.
I still wish he’d make dinner with me, with me tasting like me. But maybe it’s okay to let him cook me if there’s chocolate involved. Just this once.
SERVES 4 TO 6
2 teaspoons coarse kosher salt
3 chicken legs, thighs and drumsticks separated (about 3 pounds total)
1 tablespoon coriander seeds
½ teaspoon whole black peppercorns
2 whole cloves
2 chipotle chiles in adobo sauce, seeded if you like it soft and mild
2 plum tomatoes, roughly chopped
1 small white onion, roughly chopped
¼ cup roasted, salted peanuts, plus chopped peanuts for garnish (optional)
¼ cup raisins
3 ounces bittersweet chocolate, grated or chopped
3 garlic cloves, chopped
2 teaspoons dried oregano
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus more as needed
Lime wedges, for serving
Cooked rice, for serving
1
Massage 1¼ teaspoons of salt all over the chicken legs.
2
To make the mole, warm a small skillet over medium-high heat. Add the coriander seeds, black peppercorns, and cloves and toast the spices until they are fragrant and start to smoke, 2 to 3 minutes. Transfer the spices to a blender and add ½ cup water, the chipotle chilies, tomatoes, onion, peanuts, raisins, chocolate, garlic, oregano, cinnamon, and remaining ¾ teaspoon salt and blend until smooth.
3
Center a rack in the oven and preheat to 325°F.
4
In a Dutch oven over high heat, warm the olive oil. Add the chicken legs in batches and sear until golden brown and crisp on all sides, about 8 minutes, adding more oil to the pan if needed. Pour the mole over the waiting legs, making sure it coats the meat evenly, cover the pan, and bring to a simmer over high heat. Transfer to the oven and bake until the meat is very tender, about 1 hour, turning the legs after 30 minutes.
5
If the sauce isn’t as thick and glossy as you want it, transfer the chicken legs to a serving platter and cover with foil to keep warm. Put the pot back on the stove and bring the liquid to a simmer. Let the sauce reduce and thicken until it’s exactly how you like it. Skim off any fat before serving. Garnish with chopped peanuts if they turn you on, and lime wedges. Enjoy this on a soft bed of fluffy rice.
Hen
Y
ou really can’t keep buying me things.” I’m looking furiously at yet another spice he’s purchased.
“I like you in fine things,” he replies. “I have the means. Besides, there’s a recipe—”
“To hell with the recipes!” I interrupt, fuming. I can’t keep up with him. Every night it’s some hot new preparation. And this one looks downright fiery.
“But the harissa will be good on you. It will test your limits. And mine.” He smiles that searing smile, and my bones loosen. Involuntarily I relent.
He goes to the stereo to put on some loud pop music. He coats a brush with the hot paste. He lashes the harissa into my skin with the brush.
Ow
—it smarts. But quickly my skin is singing at its touch. He strokes my neck and shoulders, painting a trail of fire leading all the way down there.
Hot damn.
He slips two fingers inside me, making me gasp. The touch of his spiced fingertips ignites hot sparks under my skin that fire into my bloodstream and pulse around my body, heating everything in their path. I groan … Oh my—a conflagration radiates throughout my cavity … everywhere.
Fuck.
I’m building unstoppably. He continues to paint my skin with fire, in slow, even strokes at first … but as his control unravels, the brush moves faster and faster. My back arches as I open myself to the consuming, punishing, heavenly sensation … pushing me, pushing me … Scoville unit after Scoville unit … spiraling into a peppery paroxysm. When I think I can take no more, he abruptly stills.