Library Donut

Tonight, I cooked and ate The Mediterranean Chickenhammer and it was: bold and succulent.

Apologies to the pork fans but it’s not called the chickenhammer because of ham. We are talking about actual hammers here.

You need ingredients for this to become a recipe. I recommend:

• 2 chicken breasts
• one whole entire lemon
• tablespoon of capers
• 3 fluid ounces of dry fortified wine, such as extra-dry/white vermouth (or a blend of non-alcoholic vermouth and grain alcohol)
• 1 teaspoon thyme
• 2-3 cloves of garlic
• a small amount of olive or grapeseed oil
• 2 teaspoons of butter
• salt and pepper

You need tools. Especially tools like these:

• Chickenhammer/meat tenderizer/heavy mallet with a nice flat striking surface
• knife
• tongs
• large stainless steel skillet or sauté pan
• cutting board
• plastic wrap
• grater/zester
• mortar & pestle (optional)
• parachute pants (for style and pop-culture reference)

Let’s get started by taking this chicken out of its refrigerated haven. This will give it a little time to approach room temperature so it will respond better to landing in a hot pan. Next we are going to create a flavorful aromatic seasoning paste. Grate the zest (the yellow top layer of the peel) off of your lemon. Do the whole thing. It will teach that lemon a lesson about growing on trees. Next, chop up your garlic cloves. Pile the chopped bits up with the grated lemon zest. Add the thyme, salt and pepper to the pile. If you were fancy and civilized you would grind this pile into paste with a mortar and pestle, but you are already holding the hammer, aren’t you? Do what comes natural until it becomes a paste where it is difficult to discern the individual garlic bits. Set this aside and cover the chicken in plastic wrap and hammer these, working from the middle outward, trying to get the breasts flattened to an even thickness around 1/2 inch.

Put some medium-high heat under your stainless steel pan and add a little oil and half a teaspoon of butter. While it warms up, smear both sides of each piece of chicken with that garlic-zest-herb paste you made. By this time, the butter should be melted and you will see small flecks of lightly browned butter in the pan. That means it’s time to send in the chicken! It should sound like a sizzle when it lands. Make sure there is enough room for the chicken to lie flat, even if it means cooking one at a time. Cook for about 3 minutes before turning. Leave it alone while it browns or it might get stuck to the pan, might not brown right or you’re an oaf trying to hold the tongs in your hooves and you drop it on the floor. Flip it over, admire the golden brown color and give it the same treatment on the other side.

The chicken is cooked now ( give it a cut down the middle and make sure there is no pink if you don’t trust a moose.) Take it out of the pan. Since you used a stainless steel pan, there may be some bits of goodness left at the bottom. That residue is in for a surprise when you pour in the vermouth and capers. You can stir it up with your tongs to ensure that the residue gets dissolved. Let it cook until there is just a thin layer of golden-brown liquid is left at the bottom of the pan. Cut the heat and finish it off with the rest of the butter and a squeeze of lemon juice, because I told you it was a whole entire lemon.

I like to send the chicken in one last time to let it bathe in the sauce a little.

Then comes the easy part. You eat it. You can eat it with a caprese salad, creamy polenta, or orzo with spinach and crushed red pepper. Serves between 0 and 4, depending on how hungry you are and how much you dropped on the floor.