All In A Braise Work: Fennel, Olives and Tomatoes

A little too liquid-y for a braise, but don't judge. It's the biggest pot I got!

Braising meat and vegetables is delightful to me because you do barely a thing. I just cut up some stuff, mix it with some other stuff, then lounge around in one of my many stained t-shirts and my flannel pajama bottoms with the big hole in the butt. Because I like to rock the styles of hungover sorority girls.

The recipe comes from the Gourmet tome, but I added a little protein to the mix-some quickly browned chicken thighs to be precise. Boy, am I loving chicken thighs these days. They're like 50 cents for a thousand or something. Alright, I exaggerate. But chicken thighs cost very little considering that they taste like heaven covered in gold.

I made this when our friend Violet came to dinner on a Sunday night. If you fix it up in a pretty Le Creuset pot it's perfect for company. I also made it for my friends Stan and Michele a few weeks after their (krazy kute) son was born. It's a great meal for parents of newborns because it's incredibly comforting and nutritious. Also, it can be easily and safely reheated even if you've only had 20 minutes of sleep in the past 11 days. I paired it with steamed rice and a green salad.

The flavors meld perfectly, juicy tomatoes play nice-nice with the mellowed fennel, olives add a good briny bite. If you married a weirdo who doesn't like olives unless they're flavorless and canned, well, I feel your pain. Rest assured that he won't complain about them in this dish because they're not obtrusive. Especially if you cut them into itty-bits and call them, "salty grapes."

Try it. It's a nice winter/spring transitional meal-rich and stewy, yet you get a pot of bright, lively vegetables. Not to mention plenty of time to lounge around in horrifying day wear.

Braised Fennel, Olives and Tomato with Chicken
adapted from The Gourmet Cookbook

1/2 cup of olive oil
4-6 boneless, skinless chicken thighs, cut into chunks
2 large, coarsely chopped onions
4 garlic cloves
2 28 oz cans of plum tomatoes in juices
1.5 cups of vegetable broth, preferably low sodium
4 small fennel bulbs cut into wedges
1 cup sliced and pitted Kalamata olives
2 tsp fennel seeds
1 tsp orange zest
salt and pepper to taste

Heat 1/4 cup of oil in a saute pan. Salt and pepper chicken thighs, then throw them into the pan, browning on each side but not cooking through. Drain them on paper towels. Heat the remaining oil in a large 7 or 8 quart heavy pot over medium heat. Add the onion and cook until they just begin to brown. Add the chicken and the rest of the ingredients, bring to a boil, reduce heat, cover and simmer for 30 minutes.

Uncover and simmer, stirring occasionally, until the fennel is soft, about another 30 minutes. Taste and adjust seasonings.

Son of Fred, Anne and Irony

Here's an xtranormal video Fred and I wrote together.

A Very Duh! Moment with Manicotti

It's taken me 41 years of gobbling lasagna. Decades of stuffing manicotti. Pulling hundreds pans of baked ziti out of ovens. All this time, all these dishes, and I finally realize an obvious fact. They're ALL THE SAME THING.

Most of you have know this for years. Not me. I honestly thought I was working a different culinary muscle if I chose to make, say, stuffed shells with spinach instead of vegetable lasagna. Now I realize I'm still lifting the same weights the same way. I'm just standing in a different part of the gym.

An "easy manicotti" recipe from Cooks Illustrated led me to the light. It's an ingenious idea, as are many of the ones that come out of this magazine. Instead of using manicotti shells, which I find high maintenance and slimy, you use oven-ready lasagna noodles soaked in hot water. Just place some filling on the flat noodle and neatly roll it up. It's neat and pat, with no frustrating broken manicotti noodles.

So there I was on a Sunday afternoon. Rolling up roll after delicious roll of manicotti. I had NPR buzzing lightly in the background as all good white, liberal arts educated, Democrat-voting people do during our quiet free time. The tomato sauce bubbled on the stove as I scooped another spoonful of herb-flecked ricotta and smoothed it over a noodle. That's when it hit me. They're all lasagna. Every last one of them.


I got over my shocking realization quickly after taking a bite. It turned out delicious. Cheese, pasta, homemade sauce and fresh herbs baked together are like Julia Roberts playing a hooker. You just can't go wrong.

I won't post the recipe because I heard Cooks Illustrated gets a little fussy about these things. I will tell you that all you have to do for easy manicotti is soak a few oven-ready lasagna noodles in hot water for about 5 minutes. Then whip up your favorite ricotta filling, buy or make your favorite tomato sauce, do a little rollin' and "Ta-Sa!" Lasagna.