Roasted Porcini Chicken: They Call Me Mimi

Lo: How about Porcini chicken for dinner tonight?
Peef: You want to make a Puccini chicken?
Lo: NO -- PORCINI chicken.
Peef: Oh, ok. Can we call the chicken Mimi?
Lo: What?! Um... no.  Besides, I don't like to name my food, remember?
Peef: Oh, yeah.

(After some time)

Peef: Is it ok if I call her Mimi?
Lo: Do what you must, just keep it to yourself.
Peef (Out loud): Come here, little Mimi, let me get my hands under your skin.
Lo (now disgusted): PEEF! Enough!

This scenerio may or may not have actually taken place in the Burp! kitchen.  Nonetheless, we like the idea of a little opera singing chicken named Mimi.

For those completely lacking in knowlege of opera trivia, Puccini (a pretty famous opera composer) just happened to have a little opera by the name of La Boheme.  It wasn't exactly about a chicken. But, well, you'll forgive us for our imagination, won't you?

The fact is, there is a character in La Boheme whose name is Mimi... well, Lucia, but people call her Mimi. And Mimi is just lovely (much like this chicken recipe).

If you're in the mood for a bit of culture while we're cooking, here's a snippet of the wonderful and talented Maria Callas singing Mi Chiamano Mimi.

 Italian not so good?
Well,  that's not a problem. The gist is that Mimi just met her neighbor, Rodolfo, who happens to be a writer. They are attracted to each other and she sings him this aria which mentions something about living alone and making these beautiful fake roses.  They don't smell pretty, but she likes them, and she adores April kisses and, conveniently, she also likes poetry. By the end of her aria, Mimi & Rodolfo end up being quite enamored of one another.

And that's your music lesson for the day. And it serves a dual purpose because you can totally picture Peef as Rodolfo -- thinking his chicken named Mimi is pretty innocent and cute, right?

The fact is, we love a good roasted chicken. This one happens to be full of flavor -- thanks to the simple magic of something called "porcini dust," which just happens to be dried porcini mushrooms ground into a fine powder with a coffee grinder.

The porcini powder is mixed with fresh garlic, white wine, salt, and a bit of olive oil, and then spread between the skin and the meat of the chicken. 

Earthy and garlicky, this chicken is completely & amazingly delicious.  And, although it makes wonderful use of the rich, deep flavor of porcini mushrooms, it does so judiciously, so it won't completely break the bank.

The recipe gets even better when you choose to cook the chicken in the same pan with halved new potatoes and quartered turnips.  The vegetables caramelize nicely and they absorb plenty of the earthy flavor from the porcini mushrooms, along with that deliciously savory chicken flavor.

Perfect for company.  Just pair with a green salad and a bit of crusty bread.

Porcini Roasted Chicken


©BURP! Where Food Happens
Want more? Read Lo's latest ruminations at FOODCrush, her Milwaukee Magazine blog.

Roasted Chestnut and Porcini Soup

I didn't expect to find locally grown chestnuts in our local market the weekend before Thanksgiving. But, when I found them, I couldn't resist buying up a nice handful. I wasn't sure exactly what I'd do with them at first. But, when I ran across this recipe, which I'd clipped out of an old Bon Appetit magazine, I knew it would be the perfect starter for our Thanksgiving dinner.

We'd never roasted chestnuts before, but we figured that now was as good of a time as any to figure it out. We didn't have an "open fire" lying around, so we opted for a more modest method -- roasting the nuts in a cast iron pan. It worked out quite well, if you ask me. And I'd recommend it, if you've ever got yourself a few cups of chestnuts and a 1/2 hour's time. If you're interested, you can read about our technique here.
When the chestnuts were done roasting, they needed to be peeled. A bit labor-intensive, maybe... but totally worth it in my guesstimation. I am all about enduring a bit of pain for the sake of good, honest food, though. So, take my opinion with a grain of salt if you're the type who looks for instant gratification.
While we were peeling those pesky chestnuts, we set a few porcini mushrooms afloat in some nice hot water.
The rehydrated porcini and roasted chestnuts were thrown (albeit gently) into a mid-sized saucepan with some delicious stock. We let them frolic there for between 20-30 minutes so that their flavors could meld and the chestnuts could pick up a bit of additional tenderness. And then we pureed the crap out of them...
... which resulted in one of the silkiest, smoothest soups you can imagine.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, we chopped up some rutabaga and carrots and sauteed them until they were nicely caramelized. We'll spare you the details, but when all was finished, we piled them nicely into our prepared soup bowl.
When covered with the delicious soup, the veggies bobbed up top for a bit of air.
This soup definitely relies on the porcini mushrooms for its earthy character; but the chestnuts lend sweetness and texture that really takes the soup up a level. The caramelized root vegetables add interest, and they offer something toothsome to the otherwise creamy soup.

On Thanksgiving day, it was just the two of us. But, this soup is good enough that it needs to be shared. So, I'm suspecting it will have to make an encore performance at Christmas Day dinner.

Am already looking forward to it. *slurp*


©BURP! Where Food Happens