Brown Sugar Chicken Thighs with Herbed Pasta
According to my kitchen notebook, I recently prepared a version of Diana Henry’s Israeli Chicken with Mograbieh, Harissa-Grilled peaches, and Mint. I write “recently” because the entry is undated. There is a helpful note: “winner! adding lemon after cooking a yes!” The lemon was added afterward because, um, I’d forgotten to add it before.
Recent events have left your hostess a bit distracted: there is the weather, for starters. And if Dorian weren’t bad enough, we must contend with BorDon’s antics. And then there’s HongKong. Any one of these is enough to make somebody forget to add lemon.
Anyway. A few recipe tweaks were made to accommodate the IK’s inhabitants. Mograbieh became pasta, as mograbieh tends to escape from certain bowls and spoons, flying into distant corners or landing under wheelchair wheels, where it is certain be rolled over and smushed into gooey, wheaten puddles that must be pried up by your hostess’s fingernails. She has no photo of this.
Your hostess, her back isn’t very happy right now. The last thing she wants to do is pry goo off the floor, semolina or otherwise. There’s a semolina pilchard joke in there somewhere; lacking that, here’s a photo of the Eiffel Tower. I would sell my soul to be in Paris right about now.
Said pasta and was mixed with mint, parsley, and a small amount of cilantro. You’d never know from the photo, but these herbs were freshly purchased.
I added some fresh bay leaf–new to me–a sprig of thyme, and a slug of Vermouth.
Henry’s recipe calls for sharp mustard. I used Amora.
Both recipes are easy to prepare. You need not make them together: the pasta may be served itself. The chicken pairs with the usual chicken-y accomplices, meaning just about everything: green salads, rice, potatoes, veggies, all the those healthy, grainy salads people eat these days.
Leftovers make nice lunches; the chicken is nice in a pita or tortilla with iceberg lettuce, sliced tomato, and yogurt.
A final note: a reader complained (nicely) about difficulty washing a baking pan after making the flank steak recipe. So, some washing advice from the dishwasherless: line your baking pan with tinfoil. Or soak the pan for a few hours/overnight in soapy water with a few tablespoons of white vinegar or baking soda. The baked-on gunk will come off.
Brown Sugar Chicken Thighs with Herbed Pasta
Adapted From Diana Henry and Paula Wolfert’s recipes for
Israeli Chicken with Mograbieh, Harissa-Grilled peaches, and Mint
Chicken with Oranges
From A Change Of Appetite And Mediterranean Cooking
Serves 2-4 people
preparation time: about one hour
Please read notes before cooking
For the chicken:
2-4 chicken thighs, skin on, bone in
about 1 tablespoon strongly flavored mustard
1-2 teaspoons brown sugar
Salt and pepper to taste-I used about 2 teaspoons each
1 teaspoon fresh thyme, if you have it, okay to omit if not
1-2 garlic cloves, crushed, peeled, minced
1 fresh or dried bay leaf
2-3 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 cup/8 ounces/236 ml Vermouth or dry white wine
about half a large lemon
Foil, for lining the baking pan (if necessary)
For the Pasta:
1 cup/16 ounces/454 grams penne or other tubular shaped pasta
approximately 2 ounces/50 grams fresh mint leaves, torn
approximately 2 ounces/50 grams fresh parsley leaves, torn
approximately 1 ounce/25 grams fresh cilantro leaves torn, optional
good olive oil, to taste
fresh lemon juice, to taste
salt and pepper, if necessary
To make the chicken:
Preheat oven to 375F/190C
Allow the chicken to come to room temperature before cooking.
Lay the chicken, skin side up, in the baking pan. With a large spoon, spatula, or your fingers, smear each thigh with equal amounts of mustard, top and bottom. Now sprinkle the skin of each thigh with brown sugar, salt, and pepper.
Scatter garlic over the chicken.
Add the thyme, if using, and bay leaf to pan.
Pour the oilve oil and Vermouth (or white wine) into the bottom of the pan and slide into the oven.
Now make the pasta.
Put a large pot of water on to boil. Salt generously–I never measure this, but if you’re nervous, think salty as seawater. So, salty, okay?
Once the water is boiling, pour the pasta in. Stir.
Follow package instructions, or cook pasta until al dente, or to your liking. Drain, but reserve some of the pasta cooking water, either by setting some aside in measuring cup or just draining it rather casually.
Stir in the herbs, olive oil, and lemon juice. Taste, add salt and pepper if needed, more olive oil, lemon, and pasta water, if you think it necessary.
Check the chicken for doneness. It should take between 50-60 minutes to cook, depending on the size of the thighs and your oven. The chicken will look and smell done when ready, but if you are unsure, cut a piece open near the bone. Chicken should be cooked through, with no signs of pinkness. Now squeeze fresh lemon juice over entire pan generously.
Put pasta in large, shallow bowls. Some people like the bowls warmed, but I never bother. Place a piece of chicken on a bed of pasta, ladle some of the cooking juices over all, and serve. Add more parsley if you like, or remember, and eat. Plain green salad is good with this.
Chicken and pasta keep, refrigerated, up to three days.
The chicken may be frozen up to three months.
Notes:
I find washing up easier if I line the pan with foil (see blog post), but I don’t have a dishwasher. You know your kitchen, your pan, and how you’ll be washing up. Whether or not to line the pan is up to you.
I used Amora mustard, which is expensive and can be difficult to find. Use your favorite stongly flavored mustard.
While you want to brown sugar flavor to come through, it shouldn’t take over. I found 1/4 teaspoon per thigh was enough, but sugar to your taste.
This recipe throws off about 3/4 cup/175ml delicious cooking juices. After spooning some over your meal, leftovers may frozen for making rice, soup, stews, or another chicken dish.
Some people loathe cilantro, so omit from pasta if that’s you.
Other ideas for the pasta:
Add some sliced cherry tomatoes, well-drained, sliced fresh mozzarella cheese, thinly sliced scallions, or baby greens.
