Chicken with Baby Artichokes and Rice

People assume every meal around here is a multicourse wonder, each dish more stunningly photogenic than the next.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

In fact, over the past few days, as markets filled with spring produce, I couldn’t think of a damned thing to cook, much less blog.

A saner person would’ve ordered pizza.

Instead, I prepared my usual fallback meal: chicken with rice and a vegetable. In this case, the vegetable is baby artichoke.

There is nothing novel about this meal. It is plain, but plain isn’t necessarily a bad quality. It need not connote dullness. Cooked with care and attention, even the boneless, skinless chicken breasts used here can be moist and flavorful.

You’ll notice there are fava beans mixed in with the artichokes. But that would’ve meant four recipes, and four recipes in a single post is a bit much. Besides, I’ve discussed fava beans before. If you’re in need, here is a recipe.

Into the kitchen.

Working backward, we’ll start with the rice. I use Three Ladies Basmati. They are not comping me to mention them; I just like their rice.

Like many people, I am not a born rice cook. If you share my plight, my advice is to find a brand of rice you like and stick with it. While you’re at it, find a heavy, lidded pot and use it every time you cook rice. If you can find a Chinese sandpot, they make excellent rice cooking vessels.

If you own a rice cooker, obviously none of the above applies. Here are some virtual earplugs to drown me out.

On to the artichokes. Note the artichoke pictured, below.

It may not look pretty, but there’s nothing wrong with it. The black tipped leaves mean the artichoke survived frost. Trim the blackened tips off and you’ll find the vegetable beneath is perfectly edible.

A quick lesson in artichoke prep:

Break off the outer leaves until you reach the light green leaves, pictured above. Now, using either a serrated knife or a sharp chef’s knife, cut off the top quarter of the leaves, which are spiky and inedible.

Now, using a paring knife or vegetable peeler, trim any hard bits from the choke. If your artichokes have stems, pare off the hard outer exterior, revealing the softer inner stem. Don’t throw this bit away–it’s part of the heart, and it is delicious.

You can quarter the artichokes or leave them whole. Either way, toss them into a small saucepan of simmering water acidulated with lemon. (Or cheap white wine.) Don’t worry about the artichokes browning. The discoloration will vanish during cooking.

Finally, the chicken.

Admit you love chicken breasts, and watch people turn their noses up.

Chicken breasts get their bad rap from poor preparation. Like other lean proteins, the chicken breast requires attentive cooking. Given you are only required to attend for about eight minutes, this is not so much to ask.

Somebody out there may be able to shoot raw chicken fetchingly. Not me.

Some of you may be wondering why the chicken was cut up. After all, this isn’t a stir-fry. The answer is convenience: I live with a person who needs his food cut up. Sometimes it’s easier to do this before cooking. Obviously, mine is an unusual case. Feel free to leave your chicken pieces whole. If you are cooking for small people or disabled individuals, cutting the chicken before cooking saves a little time up front.

All my usual disclaimers concerning varying the seasonings, cooking methods, and vegetable accompaniments apply here. Meaning you can use whatever herbs and spices you like, cook the chicken in the oven, and accompany the chicken with whatever veg you like. For example, fava beans, which I said we were going to ignore. Well, here they are.

Chicken with baby artichokes and rice needs nothing else, but a green salad never hurts. Nor does a nice loaf of bread.

Leftovers, should you have any, make a nice sandwich.

Not a sandwich, but you knew that.