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Okay, so Joe Yonan gives the dish a classier title (“Pineapple-Juice-Can Hen and Baby Potatoes”), but let’s be real. It’s a little chicken with a little can of pineapple juice shoved up its bottom. And you know what? It. Is. Amazing.
Like, eat-with-your-hands-and-lick-your-fingers amazing. Which is perfect if you’re cooking for yourself, and if you happen to be cooking with a friend (as I was, with my favorite partner-in-crime ever, Kelly from Fountain Bookstore), and you don’t feel like you can do the eating with hands and licking of fingers thing, well, then, you need to find new friends. For reals.
Yonan (who happens to be the food & travel editor for the Washington Post, how’s that for a kickass day job?) has written a fabulous cookbook filled with grown-up food for grown-up people. Because, you know, most of those “cooking for one” books are basically college food, and that’s really not so great once you’re, erm, out of college. The recipes in Serve Yourself are designed to be made for one but can easily be adapted if you’re cooking for two (as Kelly and I did), and let me tell you, it was really refreshing to not have to do crazy math involving fractions of fractions just to figure out how to cook for two people.
There’s a reason I’m a book person, y’all, and if you’d seen my math scores on the SAT, you’d know what it is.
So back to this chicken. I have to admit that I was skeptical. I’m relatively new to roasting chickens (I know—it’s a cooking basic, but it just always seemed somehow magical and difficult to me), and I prefer mine savory and crispy (and by crispy, I mean coated in butter and kosher salt because, come on, the skin is the best part), and I didn’t really know what to think about chicken cooked with something as sweet as pineapple. But fear not! There is rosemary and salt a-plenty.
And there is sauce made of pineapple juice, lime juice, and—you guessed it—butter, and the sauce gets thick and tastes delicious and is totally what makes the dish. Well, except for the potatoes, which are roasted in the pan with the chicken and are drizzled doused in olive oil, salt, and pepper, and are so completely fantastic that you’ll eat most of them straight from the roasting pan while you wait for the sauce to simmer. True story.
But first, first you have to wash the hens and giggle uncontrollably when one of you (*coughKellycough*) accidentally creates chicken porn while arranging them back on the prep plate. Because that’s what grown-ups do when they cook together.
Then you put the hens in the oven (after you make lewd jokes about lubing up pineapple juice cans with cooking spray) and wait for ‘em to do their thing. Oh, and you drink wine. The good stuff, like this one recommended specifically for this dish by our friends at River City Cellars.
Then you twiddle your thumbs, talk about books, drink some more wine, check on your chicken babies, and rejoice when they come out looking like this.
(Okay, we helped them with the whole putting-their-wings-around-each-other thing, but we’re just cool like that.)
Devour, contemplate going face-first into the plate to get all of the saucy goodness, finish your wine, and think about how you wish the camera on your phone lent itself better to taking pictures of food.
P.S. This post is part of my Fountain 360 in 365 project, for which I am attempting to read one book from every section of the bookstore, recommended to me by its booksellers.
The Fountain 360 in 365 is a year-long project for which I am reading one book from every section of my partner indie Fountain Bookstore, selected for me by its booksellers.
If “me” was the only word in the title of this post you understood, I know how you feel. I too was once ignorant of the wonderful creatures in Tove Jansson’s Moominland series, which was originally published in Finland in the 1960s and has been re-released by Macmillan imprint Square Fish. Ignorant, that is, until wise and widely-read Fountain regular Joe B. told me about the children’s books he couldn’t stop reading. Joe is an honorary member of the Fountain Bookstore family, so we bent the rules on the project, and off I ran with Moominland Midwinter.
I asked Joe to write a few sentences about why he recommended this book, and I’m happy to share his “moominblurb” with you now.
From page one the impression grew on me that the characters are unique in their wry, wise philosophy of life. The story has no villains or monsters but deals with the most basic fears and concerns: loneliness, darkness and the unknown and the decent hearted hippo-ish hero faces them and in the end finds comfort in family and the return of warmth and Spring. I especially liked the character of his understanding dear mamma.Illustrations abound and perfectly fit the mood and complement the text.
Joe also said that his liking was “intuitive” because the book is “just so right in its mix of shameless sentiment and rough ‘home truths.’” So, what’s it about? Read more
The Fountain 360 in 365 is a year-long project for which I am reading one book from every section of my partner indie Fountain Bookstore, selected for me by its booksellers.
Okay, this is a little bit of cheat, but mostly out of necessity. The folks at Fountain Bookstore are amazing, but the reality is that none of them is really very into poetry, so when Lacy from Rock City Books in Rockland, Maine joined Team Bookrageous to make recommendations that would help us fulfill our new year’s resolution to read more poetry, I saw a mashup opportunity that I couldn’t resist. Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters it is not. But it is SO. MUCH. BETTER.
Based on my taste in books and music, Lacy recommendedThe Autobiography of Red by Anne Carson and In the Ghost-House Acquainted by Kevin Goodan, and she assigned Dean Young’s Skid as the group read. I take my ‘rageousness seriously, and I couldn’t wait to get down to business with my poetry homework. But I have to admit that I was also a little nervous and intimidated by the idea of reading poetry, and those are not feelings I usually have about picking up new books. I very rarely worry that I won’t be able to “get” what happens within the pages of a book, and I did some heavy self-pep talking prior to opening the first volume. Read more
The Fountain 360 in 365 is a year-long project for which I am reading one book from every section of my partner indie Fountain Bookstore, selected for me by its booksellers.
I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I had never heard of Pat Conroy when I moved to the South (yep, Richmond is capital-S South) four years ago. Sure, I’d heard mention of The Prince of Tides, but I knew of it only as a movie (one I still haven’t seen, and which I chronically confuse with that Leonardo DiCaprio movie The Beach), and honestly, I still have no idea what it is about. No one in my reading community had ever declared undying love for Conroy or any of his novels, and he never figured into my reading plans or popped up serendipitously in my bookstore wanderings. If you’d asked me six months ago, I’d have said the smart money was on me never reading anything by Pat Conroy.
But hand me a book about books, and I am powerless to resist. Read more
The Fountain 360 in 365 is a year-long project for which I am reading one book from every section of my partner indie Fountain Bookstore, selected for me by its booksellers.
If you know me at all, you won’t be terribly surprised to find out that I normally wouldn’t go near a self-help book if you paid me. As much as I love to read, I’m definitely in the Elvis school of thought (read: a little less conversation, a little more action) when it comes to self-improvement (and bacon cheeseburgers, for that matter), and while I get that many people are motivated and inspired by such books, they’ve just never done it for me.
But that doesn’t mean they can’t; it just means that I haven’t found the right one yet. And getting beyond my comfort zone—not to mention breaking down my preconceived notions about genre—to discover new books of all kinds is exactly what this project is about.
I was feeling more than a little trepidation about my adventure in self-help, so I was thrilled when bookseller Heather recommended Kelly Cutrone’s If You Have to Cry, Go Outside. It satisfies the requirements of the project in that it is a book I wouldn’t have picked up on my own, but I *have* heard of Cutrone, and I loved her show on Bravo, and her no-nonsense approach just makes a ton of sense to me. If I have to read a self-help book, I thought, at least it’s this one. We’re going to get along just fine. Read more