All Hail Mikey G

At a talent show-themed birthday party when I was a kid, my cousin Mike dressed up as Julia Child and gave a cooking demonstration. He was about 10 years old. I don't remember what he made but it entailed him telling us to "Set your flame at a nice speed," in a high-pitched voice. Fast-forward about 20 years, and Mike's living in California wine country and still loves to cook. Whether it's lobster bisque or a simple tomato sauce and meatballs, the kid does it really well. The only recipe I have of his is for Caesar Salad Dressing, and though that may seem like a throwaway, it's actually become a staple in my kitchen.

The dressing is just garlicky enough and the perfect consistency for dressing on crisp romaine. I make a few adjustments, like toning down the anchovies, and rarely make an entire recipe, since a halved recipe is usually more than enough for a salad that serves four. You must use a blender or mini-food processor, first to make sure you've pureed the garlic and anchovy, but second because a blender aerates the dressing somewhat, so it's a little frothy and not at all gooey (it's beyond me how waiters who prepare Caesar Salad tableside in fancy restaurants achieve this consistency).

I seriously urge you to make this dressing next time you're having friends, Romans, countrymen over (ha). They'll be hailing you.--S

Caesar Salad

(in blender)
1 c olive oil
4-5 cloves garlic
1 can anchovies [I use only 3 or 4 anchovies]
1 heaping t Dijon mustard
5-6 shakes Worcestershire sauce
1 egg
1/2 c grated parmesan cheese
1/4 to 1/3 c red wine vinegar
Juice from 1/2 lemon
Pinch of salt
Pepper

Almost Fried Chicken

I love fried chicken, but I just don't see myself making it often: I'm not Southern and don't have a recipe from my mom, plus it's messy, a tad unhealthy, etc. But what I can see myself making often is this fabulous chicken dish from Mario Batali's soon-to-be-published book Italian Grill. Make no mistake: this is not fried chicken. But it's a spectacular alternative, crunchy and flavorful and extremely tasty.

To make Chicken Thighs with Snap Peas and Agliata, you coat boneless, skinless chicken thighs with a garlicky bread crumb mixture and cook it slowly over a low grill so, says Mario, "you end up with juicy meat and toasted herbed crust." I initially balked at the "boneless, skinless" suggestion, since in my experience that is the least tasty kind of chicken you can buy. But thighs are juicier, and one I read the recipe through, I realized that if you did use chicken with skin, the breadcrumbs would stick to the skin and slide right off when you cut into the meat. Instead, what winds up happening is the bread crumbs themselves form a sort of skin over the chicken. The meat stays really moist, and the crumbs toast up so nicely.

The secret ingredient here is anchovies, and as some readers know, I have a tenuous relationship with the hairy little fishes. But trust me, in this dish, they work perfectly. There's not a grain of salt in the entire dish (snap peas included); it's just not necessary once you blend in three (or four) anchovies to the bread crumb mixture and spoon a dollop of anchovy paste into the hot olive oil that will coat the beans.

I can't wait to try this recipe on a real grill this summer.--S

Chicken Thighs with Snap Peas and Agliata

Serves 6

12 garlic cloves, crushed
3/4 c extra-virgin olive oil
2 salt-packed anchovies, filleted, rinsed, and patted dry, or 4 oil-packed fillets, drained
1/2 c chopped fresh Italian parsley
2 c fresh bread crumbs
12 boneless, skinless chicken thighs
4 shallots, sliced 1/4" thick
1 t anchovy paste
1 lb sugar snap peas

1. Combine the garlic, 1/2 c of the oil, the anchovies, parsley, and bread crumbs in a food processor and zap until smoothish.
2. Put the chicken thighs in a large bowl and sprinkle with the bread crumb mixture, turning to coat well. Arrange in a single layer on a platter and put in the refrigerator for 15 minutes.
3. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Set up an ice bath. Drop the snap peas into the water and cook just until bright green, about 1 minute. Drain, plunge into the ice bath to cool, and drain again. Set aside.
4. Prepare a gas or charcoal grill for indirect grilling. [Or heat your grill pan to medium heat.]
5. Place the chicken thighs skinned side up on the cooler part of the grill, cover the grill, and grill, turning once, until the chicken is cooked through, about 15 minutes per side.
6. Meanwhile, heat the remaining 1/4-c. oil in a 10" to 12" saute pan over medium heat. Add the shallots and anchovy paste and cook, stirring occasionally, until the shallots are soft, about 5 minutes. Add the snap peas and cook, stirring, just until heated through. Transfer the snap peas to a platter.
7. Arrange the thighs on top of the snap peas and serve.

Recipe courtesy of Italian Grill

The Only Thing We Have to Fear is Anchovies

I pride myself on eating almost anything; there are few things I won't touch, and they include commonly disliked foods like organ meats and brains. But one food block I can't seem to get past is anchovies. Whenever I order a Greek or Caesar salad in a restaurant, I ask the chef to hold off, and I never cook with them. To me they've always tasted a little too fishy. And they're hairy, too. Yuck.

But my pride got the better of me this week, when, thanks to Mark Bittman's NYT video on the pleasures of anchovies, I decided to bite the bullet. Bittman did make me feel better about my phobia:

"There are places in the world where anchovies are revered, the Mediterranean chief among them. The little fish, usually salted and preserved in oil, is enormously popular on every continent except our own. There are two reasons so many Americans aren’t wild about anchovies. One is that we typically buy those of inferior quality. The other is that anchovies are strong flavored and undeniably fishy. Those of us who can’t get enough of them see these characteristics as assets. You probably will, too, if you buy the right anchovies and cook them in this familiar pasta sauce whose other main ingredients are garlic, chilies and tomatoes."

And I noted that Marcella Hazan, in The Classic Italian Cookbook, writes, "there is no good kitchen in Italy that gets along entirely without anchovies." That was enough to put me over the edge. I needed to do this.

A recipe for Pasta with Garlic, Anchovies and Tomatoes accompanied Bittman's video, and I made it last night. I'll admit I went a bit heavy on the garlic and tomatoes, and used two anchovies instead of 20 (I was making a half recipe! I realize that should've meant 10 anchovies, but baby steps, okay?). Everything about the recipe was right up my alley: the entire thing took less than 20 minutes, and entailed cooking the garlic and a dried chili pepper in olive oil; adding the suspicious and slightly--ahem--hairy anchovies; then adding halved grape tomatoes--all while the penne was cooking in a pot of boiling water. The anchovies kind of melt in the hot oil, and when the pasta's cooked, you add the sauce and top with chopped parsely.

The verdict? I didn't have seconds, but I wiped my plate clean. The pasta had a deeper flavor than it would've sans anchovies, a sort of rich saltiness that kosher salt could never add. It was pretty good. And now I have a jar of anchovies in my fridge. While I may not be ready to throw them on top of a salad, I'll definitely use them in cooking again.--S

Pasta with Garlic, Anchovies and Tomatoes

Salt
1/4 c extra virgin olive oil
10 garlic cloves, peeled
2 or 3 dried chilies, optional
20 anchovy fillets, more or less
2 c halved cherry tomatoes
Freshly ground black pepper
1 pound cut pasta, like penne
Chopped fresh parsley leaves for garnish

1. Bring a large pot of water to a boil and salt it. Put olive oil in a medium skillet over medium heat; a minute later, add garlic and chilies, if using. Cook garlic so it bubbles gently. When it is lightly browned all over, add anchovies. Cook, stirring occasionally, for about a minute, until anchovies begin to fall apart, then add tomatoes. Adjust heat so tomatoes bubble nicely, and cook until mixture becomes saucy, about 5 minutes. Taste and add salt and pepper as necessary.

2. Meanwhile, cook pasta until tender but not mushy. When it is done, drain it, reserving a little cooking water to thin sauce if necessary. Serve pasta with sauce and parsley.

Yield: 3 to 6 servings.
Recipe courtesy of Mark Bittman