Number One Granddaughter Makes Almond Boneless Chicken

I spent a lot of time with my grandfather when I was growing up. I seem to recall he was a meat-and-potatoes kind of person, but every once in a while we’d venture down to Kow Kow Inn for Chinese food. The head waiter was a man named Kenny who could never remember the names of my many aunts and uncles, but had a flawless memory for their birth order. A big night out could include Number One Son, Number Eight Daughter, Number Nine Daughter, Number Ten Son, Number Fourteen Daughter – and of course, me: Number One Granddaughter. While I was certainly not the first-born of my generation (I think I’m actually Number Eight), Kenny knew where I ranked in my grandfather’s heart. Family dynamics like this are a therapist’s meal ticket, but hey – everyone gets to be someone’s favorite something at some point, and I got to be Grandpa’s.

I was not an adventurous eater as a child. I always got the exact same thing: egg drop soup (how this was OK to a picky kid still mystifies me), an egg roll, and Almond Boneless Chicken. Much as I love sweet-and-sour pork and lo mein and beef with broccoli and General Tso’s Chicken and anything at all that involves a noodle, Almond Boneless Chicken is comfort food. It’s probably been 8 years since I ordered this at a restaurant, but knowing that it’s now off-limits means that I started longing for it.

Ah, how did we cook before the Internet? A quick Google search and – hey! Did you know this is a Michigan thing? Because I certainly didn’t. Like I didn’t know that you can’t get a coney dog in Baltimore, and people in other states think that Canada Dry is actually ginger ale when we all know that Vernors is the real deal. I wasn’t surprised to find that Almond Boneless Chicken is as Chinese as chop suey (i.e., not at all) but I didn’t realize it was a regional dish.

This recipe is adapted from one that appeared in the DetroitFree Press in 1979, and which has been duplicated in every single recipe I was able to find online. I guess there’s just the one way to make it…. I modified it a bit since I was too lazy to chop vegetables and didn’t remember seeing any in the sauce I grew up with. 

Almond Boneless Chicken 

2 whole boneless skinless chicken breasts, cut in half, then split in half (otherwise they’re too thick to cook quickly, and there is no way I was pulling out a mallet to pound them thinner)

1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

1 tablespoon dry sherry

 Sauce

4 tablespoons cornstarch

3 tablespoons water

3 cups chicken broth

1 ½ tablespoons coconut oil (or butter, if you use dairy)

2 teaspoons reduced-sodium soy sauce

1 teaspoon oyster sauce

3 tablespoons chicken bouillon granules or the equivalent amount of hard-to-unwrap little cubes (guess which kind I have?) 

Batter

3 tablespoons cornstarch

3 tablespoons rice flour

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1 egg, beaten

1-2 tablespoons water

Oil for deep-frying 

For Serving

1 cup shredded lettuce

1/3 cup toasted, slivered almonds

1 green onion, finely chopped (green and white parts)

Sprinkle the chicken with salt and sherry and marinate for 15 minutes.

While chicken is marinating, make the sauce. In a medium saucepan, mix together the cornstarch and water until smooth. Gradually mix in the chicken broth, coconut oil or butter, soy sauce, oyster sauce and bouillon granules/cubes. Bring the mixture to a boil, stirring constantly, and let boil for 1 minute. Turn off the heat and put the lid on the pan to keep it warm. If you're serving this with rice (and why wouldn't you?) this is a good time to start the rice cooker. 

In a small bowl, whisk together the cornstarch, rice flour and baking powder. Add the egg and 1 tablespoon of water and beat until smooth. If it’s the consistency of frosting, add another tablespoon of water.

Pour ½ inch of oil in a wok or large skillet (I used cast iron) and heat to 375 degrees. Dip the chicken in the batter, letting the excess drip back into the bowl, and fry until golden, turning once.  This took about 7-8 minutes per batch; don’t crowd the pan too much or the coating will get oily and soggy. Put the cooked chicken on a rack over some paper towels to drain.

Cut the chicken diagonally into strips, pushing the strips back together in more or less in the same shape. Place the shredded lettuce on a platter, put the chicken on top of the lettuce, and pour the sauce over the top. Garnish with the almonds and green onions.

Note that this breading does NOT keep well in a warm oven; have your rice and any side dishes ready to go when you start frying the chicken. Wait until right before you serve it to do the slicing and it will stay plenty hot.

I Know the Recipe is Around Here Somwhere..... Polenta with Sausage and Artichokes

I’d probably enjoy eating a completely different meal every night if I didn’t have to deal with other people’s tastes. In spite of the fact that I ate the same 4 things over and over again the entire time I lived alone, I like to imagine that if left to my own devices now, I would be infinitely creative. Also I would never be lazy. Also my fridge and pantry would magically restock themselves with whatever esoteric ingredients I needed. And the dishes would wash themselves.

In the Actual World I Live In, we sometimes fail to plan and/or shop, we fall into ruts, and we lack imagination. Sometime we’re just tired. That’s when the Coffee Can comes into play.

Have I mentioned the Coffee Can? I got the phrase from a Cooking Light reader suggestion; the author of the letter said that she and her family wrote down all their favorite recipes and put them into an actual coffee can, and whenever they couldn’t decide what to eat they pulled out the name of a favorite meal. Genius! 

The recipes are in here...somewhere

Our house being what it is, we have a virtual coffee can which resides on one of David’s many electronic devices. I have absolutely no idea which device it’s on or how to locate the recipes it contains, but I take a certain comfort in knowing that all our favorites have been captured - somewhere - for posterity. (Should, god forbid, anything happen to my husband, we’re going to be starting from scratch.) In the meantime, he occasionally pulls up past favorites that make it into the regular dinner rotation; this is one of those favorites. We almost always have the ingredients on hand, and you can have it on the table within 30 minutes of the time you walk through the door.

It originated in Everyday Food magazine, a Martha Stewart publication that I absolutely adored. I actually love everything Martha touches; I have a very unhealthy one-way relationship with her that will undoubtedly be explored in a later post. Suffice to say that when Sirius XM discontinued her radio station I felt that I’d lost touch with a friend (cut me some slack, I used to drive a lot for work and Martha and I put in a lot of miles together). The full version of Martha Stewart Living Magazine has been getting a little light on content, and the previously-marvelous Everyday Food has dwindled into a 20-something-page extra packaged with the other magazine instead of being sold by its own nifty self. Alas. But that’s what back issues are for, right?

Baked Polenta with Sausage and Artichokes

2 teaspoons extra-virgin olive oil

1 small white onion, sliced

1 lb. sweet Italian sausage (with the casings removed if you can’t find it in bulk)

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 can quartered marinated artichoke hearts

Salt and pepper

1 18-oz. tube prepared polenta

1/3 cup chicken stock

Preheat oven to 400.

In a large skillet, heat the oil and cook the onion until softened, about 5 minutes. Add the sausage and cook until browned, about 8 minutes. Add garlic and stir. Remove the skillet from the heat, stir in the artichokes, and season with salt and pepper.

Slice the polenta into ¼-inch rounds (you can also make your own polenta for this, which makes the recipe considerably less convenient). Layer the rounds with the sausage mixture in a 2-quart baking dish, preferably the one your husband took to a church potluck and never got back, and which has been discontinued by the short-sighted people over at Corningware.  Pour the stock over the top and bake about 20 minutes, until the whole thing is bubbling and the polenta is starting to get some crispy bits on the edges.

The last time we made this, we decided that we need to start making double batches. It fed the four of us (probably only because John decided he hated polenta that day) but there wasn’t a single crumb left over. If there had been more we probably would have kept going, and we like to have leftovers for lunch the next day. Just use a bigger baking dish.