Chicken Parm

This is what Whaling House smelled like on Friday night -- in a good way. When we started isolating for the Coronavirus before it was mandatory, the first step was to change our grocery-shopping routine, which in normal times involves James finding his way to the local Roche Brothers a few times each week. But knowing that we would be reducing this as much as possible, the strategy has changed -- go in quickly with a list on which we know everything must be considered aspirational. And if I see something not on the list that I can imagine getting a couple of good meals out of, grab it!

(Note: and anything I touch, I buy. It is Typhoid Mary-level reckless to "shop" by picking up and putting down items we are considering.)

During my first such outing, when I got to the poultry shelves I noticed a much-reduced selection and entire chillers that were empty. Boneless chicken thighs were abundant, so I bought two packages (staying on the polite side of the line between "stocking up" and "hoarding"), with no particular objectives in mind. I used the first for two dinners right away, and froze the second.

I enjoy chicken parmesan at restaurants not at all infrequently, but it had never occurred to me to make it myself until I saw a post on one of the local home-cooking groups I follow online. I realized that one of my neighbors was making this at home and decided it was time for me to try. But where to begin? I had no idea how to answer the most basic question: "Is it fried or baked?" Turns out the answer is: "Yes." But I'm getting a bit ahead of myself.

As I got ready to plan the meal, Pam fired up her iPad and pointed it to New York Times Cooking, from which she read me Freestyle Roasted Chicken Parm, a non-recipe recipe by Sam Sifton. It sounded delicious and I could have made it work, but I noticed to thing that caused me to ask Pam to keep looking: Sifton's concept had no breading, and I was in the mood for breading. And it sounded like it would really be good with some fresh basil and greens -- we were not going to break quarantine for that. Watch this space, though -- we will definitely return to this.

Next Pam read aloud from the simply-titled Chicken Parmesan by Melissa Clark. Again, this is a recipe for a different day -- it calls for chicken breasts, panko crumbs, and fresh mozzarella, none of which we had on hand. But the recipe answered a few basic questions that allowed me to get started on my own version: it calls for frying the chicken first, using egg, and spreading sauce on the bottom of the baking pan AND over the top of the chicken.

Chicken Parm in progress -- in the galley at
Whaling House

So this is what I did, in less time that it has taken me to write the tale: I heated oven to 400F, and heated some sauce (I blended a can and a half-jar to finish up some leftover sauce from another meal) in a small saucepan. I poured about 1/3 of the sauce (roughly one cup) into a casserole and spread it thinly.

Then I beat two eggs in one bowl; in a second bowl I whisked together flour with ample amounts of pepper, oregano, basil, and probably a few other spices. I heated a generous layer of olive oil in a skillet (I'll use our indispensable cast-iron skillet next time, but I was in the wrong kitchen for that). I dredged the chicken in the egg and then the flour mixture, and cooked until crispy on both sides. I placed this on top of the sauce, and it looked just lovely.

Then I spooned the rest of the sauce on top, adding thin shavings of parmesan. I then baked it at 400F for 40 minutes. Near the end, I cooked up a small amount of ziti to serve on the side. The result was delicious, and the aromas inviting.

Chicken Parm, Plated
In the Whaling House Chartroom

This was clearly a meal for four, with only two of us sheltering, so this was our Saturday linner as well. To reheat it, I put all the leftovers in a skillet, covered, with a tiny amount of water under the chicken and a tiny amount of olive oil over the ziti. I overdid it a bit so there was some scorching -- all the better!

CODA
After spending decades enjoying this dish only when made by others, I will be making it again. And next time we'll be serving it not only with candlelight but also with The Stranger.

Alternative

Thanks to social media, we have this alternative recipe, with really alternative vocabulary. It is apparently quite popular. I only clicked on it because it begins with a close-up of an indispensable cast-iron skillet.