Erica De Mane

Recipe: Chicken alla Cacciatora with Black Olives, Crème Fraîche, and Thyme

After a string of holidays, I want nothing more than to dispense with the menu planning and just wing it, creating meals out of whatever is in the house, in true improvisational fashion. This type of cooking always reminds me of what it was like making “family meal”—i.e., the staff meal—when I worked in restaurants, where I was always told to use up what was on its way out anyway. Except that my family doesn’t consist of 20 Colombians all grumbling that my food is not cooked enough (they like their meat ‘hammered’) , or not spicy enough (they like their food incendiary). I’d watch these guys empty an entire bottle of Trappey’s hot sauce over my quickie coq au vin. It was wounding to my fledgling culinary self-esteem.  In any case, whether it’s appreciated or not, that kind of cooking is always liberating.

Last night I found I had a can of San Marzano tomatoes, a three-and-a-half-pound chicken, and various holiday leftovers in my refrigerator, such as several big containers of black olives, a mess of  dry, curling prosciutto (how did I let that happen?), some double- smoked cod, a couple of salami chunks, a  lump of pancetta, various dried-out herb branches, a couple of quarter bottles of dead wine, and a half-full tub of crème fraîche. Crème fraîche is an ingredient I almost never have on hand, but I had bought it to go with a little jar of caviar a friend was nice enough to bring to my Connie Francis theme tree-trimming party. I assessed all this food build-up and decided to cook up a chicken cacciatore, and to construct it in a newfangled way. My little group of diners declared the dish a hit (my family is, thankfully, much more accepting than most restaurant staff). Here I offer it to you, for your own family meal:

Chicken alla Cacciatora with Black Olives, Crème Fraîche, and Thyme

(Serves 4)

½ cup all-purpose flour
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
4 allspice, ground to a powder
1 approximately 3½-pound chicken, cut into 8 pieces
Extra-virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon butter
1 ½-inch-thick slice of pancetta, cut into small dice
1 large shallot, minced
1 garlic clove, thinly sliced
1 small glass dry white wine
1 28-ounce can San Marzano plum tomatoes, well chopped and lightly drained
½ cup chicken broth
1 bay leaf
A branch of fresh thyme, the leaves chopped
A small handful of black olives, pitted and halved (I used Gaetas)
1 heaping tablespoon crème fraîche

Mix the flour, salt, black pepper, and ground allspice together on a large plate. Dredge the chicken pieces in it, shaking off any excess.

In a large sauté pan, heat a tablespoon of olive oil with the butter over medium heat. When hot, add the chicken pieces, and brown them well on both sides. Remove the chicken from the pan, and pour out the excess oil (not all of it, though; you want a little chicken grease in the dish). Add the pancetta, and sauté until crisp. Add the shallot, and sauté for a minute or so to soften it. Add the garlic, and sauté for a few seconds to release its flavor. Add the white wine, and let it boil away. Add the tomatoes and the chicken broth, and season with salt, black pepper, the bay leaf, and the thyme. Simmer, uncovered, at a lively bubble for 5 minutes. Return the chicken to the pan, and simmer, covered, at a low heat for about 12 minutes. Remove the white meat from the pan, and continue cooking, covered, until the legs and thighs are just tender, about 10 minutes longer.

Return the white meat to the pan, and add the olives and the crème fraîche, giving it a good stir. Turn off the heat, and let everything just sit there, uncovered, for about 15 minutes. This will allow all the flavors to continue mingling and let the sauce thicken a bit. It will also further cook the chicken in a very gentle way just in case there may still be a bit of pink at the bone.

To serve, gently reheat, uncovered, spooning the sauce over the chicken. Taste for seasoning, adding more salt or black pepper if needed.  Add a drizzle of fresh olive oil, and serve directly from the pan, accompanied by polenta, orzo, or rice, if you like.