F. Fowler - Fifty Shades of Chicken

2 Add half the onions, half the chicken, skin side down, and half the salt and pepper to the pan. Brown the chicken on all sides, about 10 minutes. Transfer to a plate, and repeat with remaining onions, chicken, and salt and pepper, adding a little olive oil to the pan if needed.

3 Add the garlic to the pan and sauté until golden, 2 minutes. Spoon off any excess fat. Add the chicken broth, wine, and herbs. Return the bacon and chicken to the pan. Lower the heat to a simmer. Cover and cook for 20 to 25 minutes, until the chicken is cooked through. The white meat will cook faster than the dark. As each chicken part finishes, transfer it, along with the onions and garlic, to a clean platter. Discard the bay leaves and herb sprigs.

4 Add the mushrooms to the pan and turn the heat to high. Bring to a boil and reduce the liquid by three-fourths, about 15 minutes. Meanwhile, in a small bowl, mix the butter and flour. Lower the heat and whisk in the butter mixture. Simmer until the sauce is thick, 2 to 5 minutes longer. Return the chicken and onions to the pan to reheat. Garnish with parsley and serve on a bed of egg noodles.

LEARNING THE ROPES

If your chicken deserves a reward for especially pliant behavior, consider replacing the commonplace creminis with something more enticing. A mix of exotic mushrooms—oyster, chanterelle, shiitake—gives the sauce a richer flavor.

“Before you can agree to be my Ingredient, you’ll need to understand the recipes.”

Recipes? “Do you really need those?” I cluck coquettishly. “I thought we might just wing it.”

“No, Miss Hen,” he says as if I were an errant chick. “I’ve told you, I don’t just make dinner. What I do requires intricate steps, precise preparations, and careful plating. I hope you’ll want to do it too.”

He drags out a large cookbook. He opens it to some elaborate recipes, illustrated with shocking and explicit photos of ingredients, raw and cooked, in all kinds of appalling positions. This goes way beyond trussing. I’m simply speechless. Is this what he does—he tortures food?

“You’re a sadist?”

“I’m a Foodie.” His eyes burn with dark craving.

“What does that mean?” I ask.

“It means I want you to willingly surrender yourself to my recipes. This is what it means to truly be my Ingredient. I want to manipulate your texture, layer your flavors, Chicken. I see you as a foam, a fricassee, a gelée… a modern craft cocktail…”

I don’t understand any of this. Cock tail? I think I’m in shock.

“I want to finesse you, very much.”

His words from our first meeting come back to me. It’s all about finesse. I look around the kitchen. Suddenly the knife rack and the spice cabinet seem way more sketchy than before.

“Were there others?”

He closes his eyes. “Yes. But not like you. You’ve proven yourself both resilient and versatile. Which is why I think that each part of you can be cooked separately to get the doneness right, to make flavors penetrate deeper. In the end, roasting you whole leaves your breast a little less moist than if I cook it separately. These recipes will show us the way.”

Separately? He means cut apart. It’s not just about taking me whole; now he wants to flavor me limb by limb. Am I ready for more of that? My subconscious picks up the phone to call a taxi.

“I can’t keep up… why are you like this?” I say.

“Ah, that’s a long story. When I was still just a boy someone showed me what cooking could be. Like they do it in Europe. She showed me that cooking wasn’t just warming something up. It’s the discipline of turning raw ingredients into transcendence. She was the turning point for me.”

“She? She who?”

“It doesn’t matter, baby. I had a tough introduction to food. As a child I ate nothing but TV dinners and ramen. I was inexperienced. And that’s when an older woman took me under her wing and introduced me to the lifestyle.”

I am devastated at this image of little Shifty, just a child. And I’m appalled that Mrs. Child-temptress, Mrs. Child-warper, this—this evil old Mrs. Child-whatever figure was allowed to fuck him up so badly. It’s because of Mrs. Child he’s unable to just make dinner like everyone else. A boy who knew only Salisbury steak and Tater Tots, then some herb-crazed tart shows up with a chicken chasseur and has her way with him. The thought depresses me.

“Is that the reason for your shifty moods?” I ask quietly.

“Oh, Chicken, I’m fucked up and shifty as hell. But I’m hungry for you.”

Hungry for me! My Shifty Blades hungers for me.

“How many were there?”

“What?”

“How many Ingredients were there, before me?”

“Do you really want to rehash that conversation again?” He’s becoming ruffled.

“Yes! I think I have a right to know.”

“Fifteen.”

I wasn’t expecting that. Fifteen? Holy shit. He’s really been around. He’s so secretive. I feel anger bubbling up inside me.

I glare at him and he glares back. Despite the anger, I feel it, the attraction—irresistible, drawing us together like kitchen magnets.

My breast arches involuntarily toward his touch. Suddenly he seizes me and lays me out on the counter, claiming me hungrily. His fingers pull me taut, the palms of his hands grinding my soft white meat into the hard granite, trapping me. I feel him. His stomach growls, and my mind spins as I acknowledge his craving for me.

“Why must you always challenge me?” he murmurs breathlessly.

“Because I can.” My pulse throbs painfully.

He grabs a fistful of kosher salt.

“I’m going to season you now.”

“Yes.” My voice is low and heated.

He reaches for a rolling pin, then hesitates, looking at me.

“Yes, please, Chef,” I moan.

The first blow of the rolling pin jolts me but leaves behind a delicious warm feeling.

“I. Will. Make. You. Mine,” he says between blows.

Adrenaline is pounding thunderously through me—and so is he.

Fighting is rough, but making up could be the end of me.

sautéed chicken breasts with garlic, olives, and wine

SERVES 4 TO 6

4 boneless, skinless chicken breast halves (2 pounds), patted dry with paper towels

1½ teaspoons coarse kosher salt

½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

3 tablespoons all-purpose flour

2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

3 garlic cloves, minced

Large pinch of crushed red pepper flakes

¼ cup dry white wine

¼ cup low-sodium chicken broth

1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice

2 tablespoons chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley

2 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

2 tablespoons sliced, pitted kalamata olives

Crusty bread, for serving

1 Using the side of a rolling pin, gently slap the breasts into submission, until they are ¼ inch thick. Season with salt and pepper, then sprinkle them on both sides with the flour, knocking off any excess.

2 Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the chicken in batches and cook until golden at the edges, 3 to 4 minutes on each side. Transfer the chicken as it cooks to a plate and tent with foil.