This French classic has too long suffered the snobbery of contemporary foodies. Coq au vin, a traditional dish of chicken cooked in wine, is definitely worth a revival... if you ever even let it go away.
Yes, I am on a bit of a mission to revisit those 1970s hits that have fallen out of favour. No, it's not nostalgia: we forget far too quickly there's a reason these were dishes so vaunted by the self-made doyennes of suburban culinary chic in the 70s. Bluntly, many are excellent dishes. Maybe I'm engaged in a bit of channelling the spirits of Fanny Cradock and Julia Childs, but ultimately, this is all about flavour. Better still, with a little patience, coq au vin is a dish that's really easy to pull off well.
I've noted that there are "healthier" versions of this dish knocking about online; bald chicken devoid of skin or—God forbid—versions that actually use non-alcoholic wine (because the brainiacs who created those ones didn't work out that all the alcohol cooks off and real wine has less calories than the booze-free version...)
No, mine is a fairly classic recipe. It's not particularly fatty or dripping in more calories than supposedly healthier versions. I you really need to ditch a few calories, go jogging before dinner. This wont intrinsically make you fat. And, behold, the carbs are pretty optional in how I serve it.
This recipe serves 3 to 4 diners depending on your side dishes and how much you like chicken. Scale up as needed.
Shopping list
Virgin olive oil; at least 5 tbspns
Roughly 2 sections of chicken per diner (for example a leg and thigh or breast); skin on. If making for 4 or more, you might want to use a whole chicken. (see the notes in the 'Alternatives' section below before you start cooking)
8 or so shallots, peeled
Approx. 200g bacon lardons (smoked of unsmoked according to personal preference)
3 to 4 sticks of celery, very finely chopped
250g chestnut mushrooms; cut in half if large
Good chicken stock; fresh, cube or jelly; approx 200ml as liquid
3 sprigs of fresh rosemary
3 sprigs of fresh thyme
5 to 6 bay leaves
6 cloves of garlic, vey finely chopped
2 tbspns tomato purée
A shot of cognac or brandy
Approx. 400 to 450ml red wine
200 to 250g puy lentils
1 lemon (for the puy lentils)
A handful of flat leaf parsley; a garnish
salt to taste
to thicken the sauce
2 tbspn plain flour
1 ½ tspn olive oil
1 tspn softened butter
Cooking Method
Peel the shallots. To an oven-proof dish, add the chicken sections, skin-side down, spacing the shallots evenly between them. Using clean fingers, massage about ⅓ of the total finely chopped garlic into the chicken. Season all with a little salt ( I mean "a little"—between the lardons and the chicken stock, there'll be salt enough later) and pepper and add a very fine layer of olive oil using a pastry brush or spray. Cook in a preheated oven—at 250°C for about 15 to 20 mins (or better still, in a halogen oven at 225°C for approx. 10 to 12 mins)
Turn the chicken, skin-side up and turn the shallots—so the browned side (it's fine if they're even slightly blackened) is facing down. Add a sprig of rosemary, thyme and a bay leaf or two. Baste/spritz with a little more olive oil and cook for a further 15 to 20 mins (less if using a halogen oven). The chicken should be roughly ¾ cooked, but, most of all, you want to ensure that the skin shows some signs of beginning to brown. You can do this immediately before cooking the main dish or a while before. In the case of the latter, keep covered and allow to rest until you cook the main dish, ideally not so long before that it requires refrigeration
Add 4 to 5 tbspns of the oil to a large saucepan with a lid and heat on a high heat. Add the remainder of the garlic, stirring continuously to prevent sticking and allow it to turn golden. Add the lardons, stirring, ensuring that they're sealed. Cook for at least 3 or 4 mins on a high heat, stirring near continuously. (NB, some recipes use bacon rashers—and that's fine—and they will begin to crisp, but the lardons won't and if they do, you've probably cooked them too long)
Add the finely chopped celery and stir in. Cook for at least 3 to 4 mins on a high heat, before adding the cognac. Stir vigorously as the alcohol cooks off. Reduce the heat to medium. Cover the pot and allow the ingredients to sweat for 5mins
Uncover and return to a high heat. Push the ingredients to the side of the pan. Using a spoon that allows liquids to drain off, add the "pre-roasted" chicken pieces—skin-side up—and shallots to the centre of the pan. Nudge them about with a wooden spoon if they begin to stick. Pour in a smidgen of the red wine, just enough to cover the bottom of the pot. As it bubbles away furiously, gently move the ingredients around in the pan to prevent sticking
To a heat-proof jug, add the chicken stock ( I strongly suggest very low salt chicken stock cubes such as these, because otherwise this dish becomes easily too salty), tomato purée and any (by now cooled) liquid from the roasting pan and stir together. But, do not wash the roasting pan. Place it to one side—all will be revealed later...
Gently pour the rest of the red wine over the contents, but do not mix. Add fresh springs of rosemary, thyme; 3 or 4 more bay leaves to the top of the pot, resting on the chicken. Cover and all allow to boil vigorously for about 3 or 4 mins
Uncover and gently pour in the ingredients you've mixed together in the jug at the edges of the pot. Gently nudge the chicken, lardons and shallots to make sure nothing sticks. Re-cover and allow to boil for a further 5 mins
Uncover and gently mix the contents. Re-cover and reduce to a low heat, allowing to simmer for 50 to 60 mins, stirring gently every 20 mins or so
About 20 mins before you're planning to serve, place your mushrooms in the unwashed roasted pan, spritz with a little olive oil and roast in the oven on a high heat until cooked, stirring halfway through. If using a halogen oven at 250°C, this can take as little at 10 mins; about 15 to 20 in a conventional or fan-assisted oven
After about an hour, the chicken, lardons and other larger ingredients of the large pot should be perfectly cooked. Again using a spoon that allows drainage, decant to a serving dish and add the mushrooms. Keep all of these on a low heat in the oven; enough to keep them warm, but not so hot as to dry them out
Simultaneously, bring the puy lentils to the boil in barely enough salted water to cover them with the lemon, cut in half, placed into the pot. Cover and reduce the heat until the lentils are fully cooked
Meanwhile, mix the flour, butter and a little olive oil together in a small bowl to create the base of your thickener. Remove the chunkier elements—such as the bay leaves, rosemary and thyme sprigs. Turn up the heat and bring the liquid in the pot back to the boil. Gradually add this thickener to the liquid, whisking almost continuously as it thickens with a whisk
When the sauce achieves the appropriate constituency, pour over chicken, bacon, lardons and mushrooms, etc.) and take to table
Serve the chicken with the lentils and a rustic bread. Bon Appétit!
Alternatives
There' not a lot of vegetarian or pescatarian versions of this that have worked for me. Chunkier veggie ingredients—such as Quorn blocks—have worked okay, only when eschewing the roasting phase and adding them where one does the lardons in this recipe.
Bluntly, all attempts at a pescatarian versions have been dire failures to date.
If cooking for a larger group, you can replace the chicken sections with a whole chicken—the way this recipe was originally cooked. Ensure you remove any giblets—which you may want to use if you're creating your own chicken stock. Season the cavity of the bird and cut a lemon in half and insert both halves into the cavity in the initial roasting phase.
Other than that, it's pretty much the same, although you need to ensure that you attend the pot much more regularly, pouring liberal amounts of the red wine and stock cooking liquid over the top of the bird every 10 mins or so.
Pairings
In keeping with the general received wisdom, I tend to go for reds with this one. Personally, the jury is out on whether you go for a lighter Pinot Noir or Côtes du Rhône or a much heavier Tempranillo. I actually tend to go by season.
But, then there is, of course, Karel. Somehow I know in my gut he is going to have this unexpected white or rosé that is going to be the superlative pairing. Watch this space...
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