Chicken and Mushroom Skillet Pie with Greens and Tarragon by Alison Roman

What a ride this pie was. How buttery, how delicious, how messy. 

It all started with a single disc of gluten-free pie crust (yes, the King Arthur one). I prepared the dough to chill at about noon, and once again felt like this disc is the best one I’ve made yet. My pie crust skills improve every time I attempt the task. It’s been personally satisfying to watch myself improve in this way over the course of the project. Of course, there’s always a mess with pie crust. Powdery flour that escapes from the saran wrap. Bits of butter that stick to the counter when rolling it out. But this doesn’t at all compare to the mess of the pie filling. 

Alison instructs us to brown and cook bone-in, skin-on chicken breasts and thighs in a large skillet. Cue the splatters of hot oil dotting the floor, counters, stove, and occasionally, my arms. The oil flies as the skin crisps and browns. It’s really a shame though, because after it cooks, Alison has you remove the meat and discard all bones, sinews, and skin. All that crispy goodness gone. The meat, though, is tender and juicy. 

Next, in the same skillet with all the chicken fat, garlic and leeks join to become soft and vibrantly green. I then added a pound of fresh mushrooms with salt and pepper, never minding the few little mushroom bits that always flop out of the skillet when I cook mushrooms. A few of them escaped and fell next to the flames underneath the skillet – don’t ask me how. 

Once the mushrooms softened, I mixed in a pat of butter and a quarter cup of gluten-free flour, which quickly thickens up the filling mixture. The next step calls for chicken broth, and I want to mention here, in case I haven’t already said this on the blog, my newfound love for Better than Bouillon. Margaret exposed me to this brand of chicken broth flavoring in goop form, and it’s changed my pantry for the better. Instead of buying (and wasting) so many cardboard boxes of chicken broth, and also needing to find places to store said broth boxes, I now have a jar of flavoring sitting in my refrigerator door, waiting to make batches upon batches of chicken broth, right when I need them. All it takes is one teaspoon of flavoring for each boiling cup of water, stirred in to make it a nicely flavored, not too salty bit of broth. I just bought my second jar at Costco today, which will last me for many months. Everyone should buy this product! 

Before turning down the heat, I streamed in heavy cream and a tablespoon or two of creme fraiche that I had leftover from The Greatest Creamed Greens. I then tossed in the separated chicken, chopped tarragon, and kale pieces. And here’s where I mention that Alison does NOT give instructions on the size of skillet to use. Which is problematic. By the time I added all of my ingredients, my 10-inch cast iron skillet was filled to its very brim. Any sudden movements, and the mixture would spill right over the edge. If you have a 12-inch ovenproof skillet, definitely use it here. 

Feeling precarious and cautious, I still chose to top the skillet in its very full state with the rolled out pie dough and stick it in the oven to bake. Which I realize now, was a mistake, but couldn’t know it then. Alison says nothing about how full the skillet should be or how to crimp the edges of the dough around the skillet rim to secure the filling. There’s a real lack of information in the book so allow me to fill in the gaps: 

  1. It would be best to let the filling come up about a fourth of an inch from the top of the skillet. That way, when you lay the dough, it sort of falls into the pie and acts as a pseudo lid. Also, when the filling starts to bubble up, you will hopefully avoid it seeping over and making a huge, smoky mess in the oven as it burns on the bottom. (Yes, this happened to me.)

  2. Trim off any straggling pieces of dough that drape far down the sides of the skillet. I tried to do this, but didn’t do it enough. Within a few minutes, several pieces of dough fell from the sides and burned at the bottom of the oven. 

  3. Beware that the pie crust may turn golden faster than you think, so be ready to cover it with foil if it browns too quickly. I, thankfully, thought to check this and caught mine in time. 

  4. Finally, though you make sizeable slits in the dough’s surface to allow steam to escape, beware that they could close up as the butter melts and tries to seal the surface again. Be ready to reinforce the slits with a sharp knife, as necessary. 

If you’re reading between the obvious lines, you’ll see that this was clearly a chaotic cooking/baking process. I learned a lot. I also honestly enjoyed eating the fruits of my very thorough labor. This pie is delightfully tangy, salty, and filling. Perfect for a cold night with a glass of red wine. It also made fantastic leftovers. I don’t know how soon I’ll make this again – I’m exhausted just thinking about it. But I know I’ll crave it again this winter. Perhaps I’ll make a “Skillet Pie Revisited” post to report back on how my suggested adjustments work. To be determined! 

170 recipes cooked, 55 to go.

Skillet Chicken with Crushed Olives and Sumac by Alison Roman

I bet my mother-in-law, Michelle, is on the edge of her seat, waiting to hear what I thought of this dish. Michelle is an avid olive lover. On multiple afternoons, I’ve witnessed her spontaneously glance at the oven clock and, regardless of the actual time, announce to the room that it was “Olive Hour” before marching to the refrigerator to collect her jars of olives for a snack. She can consume a whole bowl of olives and not bat an eye. She always has multiple olive varieties on hand, stored in large glass jars in her fridge. I actually accompanied her on a trip to IKEA to buy these large jars for storing her olives (& her pickles, because priorities). Her love of olives is exceeded only by her love of really good pasta and her family, whom she loves really well, I might add. 

For all of her enthusiasm, Michelle has been disheartened by my inability to enjoy an olive. My distaste for olives confuses me. I love salty, briney food like pickles, mustard, and sauerkraut. What is it about an olive that makes me instinctually scrunch up my face when I bite into it? I know that no one in my nuclear family likes olives. Is it a genetic predisposition? 

When I learned that Alison is on par with Michelle’s olive love, I dreaded the implications. But like so many other times that I’ve already had to face my skepticism in these past months, I knew I couldn’t cater to my olive aversion forever. So I chose to start with the recipe on the cover of Alison’s book, Dining In

A brief note about my first olive-buying experience. I just couldn’t wrap my mind around buying a room-temperature jar of olives. The way the little round guys sit in that still liquid makes me think of a biology class experiment that is never meant to be eaten. Jordan once took a completely candid picture of me while we were in Costa Rica, and the expression on my face in this picture probably mirrors what my face looks like when I see jars of olives at the grocery store. To avoid this reaction, I went to the olive bar at Whole Foods. Somehow that was a slightly more pleasant experience. 

The first step of this recipe is thinly slicing half a red onion and marinating the slices in lime juice, salt and pepper. Doing this step first allows time for the onions to soften in the acid and pickle ever so slightly. 

Onions aside, the bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs get a good coating of salt and pepper before cooking in a skillet, skin-side down. It takes about 15 minutes or so on high heat to get the meat cooked though and the skin a golden, crispy brown. (Allow me a moment to say that it’s a time like this when owning a digital meat thermometer is so crucial. All I had to do was stick the tip of the thermometer into the thickest part of each thigh to know if it was cooked through to a safe temperature (165 for chicken). No need to slice the thigh open to look at signs of rawness, thus ruining the skin and mangling the meat in the process. My meat thermometer has made cooking chicken less stressful, and it was only $18!) Thanks for indulging my digression. Now back to regularly scheduled programming. 

Once the chicken is ready to go, it’s removed from the skillet, which by now is super hot. Throw in the crushed Castelvetrano olives, ground sumac, and a half cup of water, and allow it all to heat up. Then place the chicken back in the skillet, skin-side up to keep it crispy, and allow the water to reduce. This helps infuse the chicken with more flavor and, I imagine, reduce some of the olives’ bitterness. At the very end, the lime-y onions, which by now are much softer, are added to the skillet to barely warm through. Just until the red skin has turned a bright fuschia, about 2 minutes.  

Now for the moment of truth. Just before plating the chicken, I reached into the pan and picked out an olive bit. Without much thought, I popped it into my mouth. And it was really… good. Really good. “Jordan!” I yelled. He turned around from his work desk. “I just tasted an olive and liked it!” 

Two theories about why I liked these olives: 1. The olives lost some of their funk and bitterness from being heated through. 2. Castelvetrano olives are supposedly very mild. That’s all I got. I’m open to any other ideas. 

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Jordan loved this meal, and proclaimed for the fourth time that THIS was the best chicken recipe from Alison Roman. Really, he’s said this about four different recipes. I honestly loved it, too. So I will be making this one again. 

37 recipes cooked, 188 to go.

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served with Alison’s Frizzled Chickpeas and an herby kale salad