PhysioProf Is A Domestic God (UPDATED)
August 24, 2008
PhysioProf cooked some serious shit tonight. Chicken breast stuffed with spinach, feta, and mushrooms. And saffron rissoto. And roasted fresh corn. PP cooked that shit, and ate it with some lovely cocktails.
UPDATE: Ok, fine, you want the fucking recipe? Here it is:
Lightly saute spinach and mushrooms in extra virgin olive oil, garlic optional. Let it cool, and mix it with crumbled feta to make the stuffing. Roll the stuffing inside boneless chicken breasts (with skin), and then tie the breasts up with some fucking cooking string. Brown the outsides of the breasts on the stove in a dutch oven with some olive oil, pour in some white wine up about 1.5 cm depth, and put the motherfuckers in the oven with the lid on at 375 degrees for about 30-35 minutes.
And don’t use shitty cheap-ass wine, because the actual flavor of the wine will permeate the chicken. I like to use Toasted Head Chardonnay for this. Take the motherfuckers out and eat them. (If you want to, you can deglaze the dutch oven with a little more wine and use the reduction to pour on top, but I usually don’t bother.)
As far as the cocktails, yes they were martinis. Last night I stuck with Bombay Sapphire shaken with ice straight up, but other outstanding gins that I like are Junipero (distilled in California by the Anchor Steam Brewing Company) and Old Raj. Hendrick’s is a Scottish gin that I like, but some people dislike the intense cucumber flavor that it has.
It is very important for gin martinis made from 100 proof gin (such as the gins I mentioned) to have the gin be at room temp (not in the freezer) and to give a good shake so as to dilute the gin sufficiently with water to allow one to taste the aromatic flavors. And for fuck’s sake, no motherfucking vermouth with good gin.
August 24, 2008 at 8:32 pm
Dude, it’s a great menu, right up to the end. You can’t just say “some lovely cocktails” like the details aren’t important. Well, you can, but it undermines your claim to domestic godhood. The cocktails are non-trivial.
Just sayin’.
August 24, 2008 at 9:16 pm
I second that. Cocktails are integral to claims of godhood.
Also, chicken breasts stuffed w/ spinach and feta? Is that a recipe you care to share?
August 25, 2008 at 12:57 am
When I hear cocktails, I always think martini. Don’t know why. And that chicken sounds like chicken Florentine (I second the request for a recipe), which I love despite the fact that spinach isn’t actually a huge thing in Florence.
…Uh, wait, what am I saying?? Physio, you COOKED???!! Something that wasn’t Burgers or otherwise On Fire?! Something NOT MANLY??!! You cooked CHICK FOOD! Possibly for your WIFE! You’re gonna grow boobs now, dude! They’ll revoke your Man Card and your testes now!!11!!eleventy!!1!
/goofiness
I just can’t fucking help abusing sarcasm. Call it the stress of the move. Yeah, that’s it.
August 25, 2008 at 8:30 am
did PhysioWife accept the apology?
August 25, 2008 at 11:40 am
Bombay Sapphire – best martini evah!
August 26, 2008 at 4:37 am
I’m never going to be able to call “fucking cooking string” just fucking “cooking string” ever again.
August 26, 2008 at 12:30 pm
Clearly, “Next Food Network Star” has at least one more season in it.
I am totally cooking this for my wife.
August 26, 2008 at 12:33 pm
I’m telling you, the shit is fucking tasty!
August 26, 2008 at 1:17 pm
garlic is never fucking “optional” my man. never.
Unless by “optional” you mean “it is optional how much fucking garlic you throw in there”. then I’m down.
August 26, 2008 at 8:41 pm
But if you’re calling it a martini, it must contain two ingredients: gin and vermouth. Gin shaken over ice without vermouth is called “gin”. I can understand not wanting to taint your yummy, yummy Hendricks (or your Plymouth, or your Citadelle (if a German beer snob can look with suspicion upon a French beer, it seems almost obligatory for a gin snob to retch at the mention of a gin made in France, but it is (appropriately) smooth, soft and cheap)) with the bitter swill that passes for vermouth in many bars and liquor aisles. Having once tried Noilly Prat I have since banned all lesser vermouths from the Castle Twork forever. Consider it, I implore ye. 5:2 or 4:1. Shake for two whole minutes before straining. Two well-rinsed, un-pitted, firm green olives.
What I cannot understand is the latter-day tendency to make a drink with vodka and call it a martini. Language matters, people.
While I’m shooting off my mouth in praise of vermouth: I’ve also found that a couple spoonfuls added to the saute near the end of a spinach/mushroom concoction (you never want to go too nuts with the vermouth, even the good stuff) can often make a positive impact, as can a pinch of nutmeg (ditto the not-too-much).
If you’re nice to me, maybe someday I’ll share my recipe for spinach lasagne florentine, from which the above inspiration is drawn.
August 27, 2008 at 7:51 pm
This sounds like the Jerky Boys meet the Galloping Gourmet.
I feel about vermouth as did Sir Winston Churchill – simply bow in the direction of France (here is the oddest source I’ve ever seen for this quote).
Thanks for the recipe, chief. My only remaining question is how do you make the saffron fucking risotto?
August 28, 2008 at 1:41 am
And for fuck’s sake, no motherfucking vermouth with good gin.
word.
August 30, 2008 at 5:19 pm
[…] 30, 2008 Peeved by PhysioProf’s pretensions to domestic godhood, domestic goddess and shrill harpy Isis the Scientist has goaded PhysioProf into throwing down the […]
August 31, 2008 at 3:28 pm
You said “dutch oven.”
Huhuhuh.