Tag Archives: food

African Peanut Chicken Stew

This stew is wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. Now it’s not going to cause a flavor revolution in your mouth like you might encounter at a fancy restaurant where they have lychee-flavored foam with truffle-scented oils that can be absorbed through your finger tips and which cause your taste buds to go into electric shock. However, it is rich and tasty and comforting, and somehow simple in the best sense of the word. I ate 3 bowls of it the first time I made it. 3 bowls, folks. And though at that point I was quite satisfied in the stomach area, my mouth was already craving more. So I immediately demanded that leftovers be separated into two containers, one for the fridge and one for me to carry to work the next day so that I could have it again as soon as possible, especially since rain and storms were predicted. It’s my idea of comfort food. The recipe was inspired by Kay over at Kayotic Kitchen–click here for the original (Chicken Palava). My variation has squash instead of spinach, some flour for thickening, some more spice, etc. If you’re looking for some serious inspiration, you can count on Kay’s blog to send you running into the kitchen at top speed, where a flurry of cutting boards, knives, pots and pans will quickly result in something incredible.

Ingredients

(Serves 5)

2 boneless skinless chicken breasts

1 1/2 TBS flour

1/2 tsp salt

1/4 tsp black pepper

1 large yellow onion

6 cloves garlic, minced

2 zucchini

1 summer squash (yellow squash)

1 red bell pepper

2 large, juicy tomatoes

3 + 1 TBS peanut oil

1 TBS sesame oil

1/4 tsp white pepper

1/2 tsp chili powder

1/2 tsp ground ginger

3 tsp brown sugar

1/2 tsp thyme

6 TBS crunchy peanut butter

2 c chicken broth

2 tsp chicken bouillon or base (in addition to the broth)

2 tsp cornstarch + 1 TBS water

Salt, black pepper, and brown sugar to taste

Blanched almond slices and/or cilantro, to garnish

Chop the chicken into smallish cubes and mix it with the peanut oil, sesame oil, ginger, brown sugar, salt, thyme, black pepper, white pepper, chili powder, and flour. Let it marinate for at least 15 minutes. Don’t worry about the seemingly large amount of oil–that will also serve to help cook a ton of veggies.

Roughly chop up the squash and mince the garlic . . .

. . . chop the onion and red pepper . . .

. . . and give the tomatoes a rough chop, too. Keep them separate, because they’ll go in later than the rest of the veggies.

Heat 1 TBS peanut oil in a large pot or Dutch oven. When hot, add the chicken.

Cook for 2 minutes, until the chicken starts to look less raw; your kitchen will immediately start to smell delightful. Add the onion and garlic, and continue to cook for another 2-3 minutes.

Don’t be frightened by the fuzzy white object in the lower lefthand side of the above picture. It’s just a defenseless oven mitt.

Add the bell pepper and squash. Cook for another 5 minutes.

Add the tomatoes, chicken broth, and peanut butter. I combined them all in this lovely measuring cup.

Then I poured in the whole shebang. If you didn’t know what the ingredients were up front, this may have looked . . . disturbing. Questionable. Not tasty.

Bring it to a boil, then reduce the heat to low and let it simmer gently for 25 minutes, uncovered.

If the stew isn’t thick enough, mix in the cornstarch/water slurry to help it along. At this point, taste and re-season. I added an additional couple teaspoons of brown sugar and a heft, hefty dose of salt and pepper. Don’t underseason! The right amount of salt really brings this dish to life.

Serve over rice with some blanched almonds and cilantro. I didn’t have cilantro on hand . . . but it would be perfect.

 Let’s take a bite, shall we?

Have any of you begun to make stews this fall? If there are any recipes you think I must make, please send them my way!

Click here for printer-friendly version: African Peanut Chicken Stew

Lessons from Paul Bunyan

During Family Vacay 2010 we went out to breakfast one day.

Paul Bunyan’s Cook Shanty serves all-you-can-eat breakfast for . . . a hefty price, let’s say. But it was worth it for the doughnuts alone. I hereby nominate those doughnuts to become the State song. Or the State bird. Or the State whatever, as long as Wisconsin gives them a position of honor, merit, and blatant publicity. These doughnuts make Wisconsin a better place to live. In fact, they almost make up for the population of mosquitoes and spiders that this state also plays host to . . . almost. Let’s not go too wild here, now.

Let’s move past the doughnuts . . . for now. Paul Bunyan’s eggs are OK, their sausages are delectable, and their pancakes ain’t bad either. All the food is brought to the table family-style, and served on tin plates and cups. Kind of like you’re camping. Cast iron cookware hangs on all the walls, tempting you to make a grab for that gigantic Dutch oven that you really don’t think you can live without anymore. Amidst the rustic decor, fellow tourists chuggin’ down the coffee, and gift shop rarities, I learned a series of important lessons that I decided to bring to you on this lovely  morning.

Lesson #1: Always give Steve the doughnuts first. He is full of dormant violence which starts boiling to the surface when he experiences the lack of doughnuts.

And don’t think his wife is any different either.

Lesson #2: when seated between a hungry sister and a hungry husband, use your fork to intimidate them into keeping their grubby little mitts off the freshly arrived scrambled eggs.

You have a right to those scrambled eggs. You are entitled to the full amount of those scrambled eggs. And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. This is the land of opportunity! And when your opportunity is threatened, you must defend it with any utensils at hand.

Lesson #3: On your way back to your house from the Paul Bunyan experience, always stop at the local open-air flea market.

I mean, who couldn’t use some ‘foreign coins’? I know I’m always in need of all kinds of currency when I take my spontaneous jet-setter trips to Cancun or Barbados. And ‘rock slabs’? C’mon, you know you could use one of those to a) bake some gourmet bread on, b) lay the cornerstone for the hand-built mansion you’re constructing in your spare time, or c) bring to your weight-lifting class for extra street cred.

However, when you see visor caps with fur growing out of them, you must run far, far away.

Don’t be like me. Don’t make the same mistakes I made. The green fur is not “cute and funny” as you may think in the midst of your shopping high–it’s ugly and frightening, as you will discover as soon as you’ve spent $10 on it.

And no, I didn’t purchase the cap. It’s just a hypothetical scenario.

Lesson #4: Something about my sister and Steph being really cute and looking really good in shorts.

Note to self: investigate connection between cuteness and petite stature.

Lesson #5: When someone asks you “Whaddya think? Should I buy this rusty old piece of antique something or another?”

That’s your cue to start screaming at the top of your lungs “Oh the folly!!”, wrench the object from their hands, and take off running. Throw the object into the deepest lake you come across, smash it with that rock slab you purchased earlier, or bury it in the deepest hole you can carve out of the earth with your bare hands in the 1.2 minutes you have before the irate shopkeeper catches up with you. Your friend/relative is counting on you to save him or her from a poor shopping choice, and no measure is too extreme to ensure they don’t have this sorry piece of crap kicking around for the rest of their lives.

And for the record, this situation is also hypothetical; Erica in no way considered buying this. Plus, with a little paint it could be super cute.

Lesson #6: The stones and beads will try to draw you in. Don’t buy them! Unless you’re a disciplined jewelry-maker, they will just sit around looking bright and pretty in your drawers, on your desk, or in your refrigerator.

Lesson #7: If you come across a small clown, invite him to sit on your shoulder.

If you don’t, he may become your mortal enemy. And nobody wants a miniature clown creeping into their bedroom at night with a very tiny axe.

Lesson #8: don’t buy that antique book. It smells kinda funny.

Lesson #9: happily married parents = I love it.

See you all tomorrow for a delectable stew recipe!