FIELD & FOREST

tarragon

slow-roasted salmon and pink potato salad

salads, winter, dinner, lunchRachel SandersComment

Truth be told, I haven’t been writing here as of late for a few reasons:

  1. I had a baby (who is going to be 3 in a couple of months, good lord). And she is a fierce, fiery force of nature, which has been so so so fun and so so so exhausting. Whenever I’ve had the energy to make something that is not grilled cheese, I have been so famished that waiting to eat it so I can take pictures has felt agonizing.

  2. I have been riding a wave of postpartum emotions that has felt very confusing and very private. I have talked to some friends who have found themselves in similar places, and from what I can gather, if you find yourself being the primary parent of a small child while you’re living hundreds (or thousands) of miles away from family in a country that doesn’t value family leave (‘merica, fuck yeah), you’re not going to feel 100% great all of the time. In the next post, I’ll take some time to write about some things that have been helpful for me with navigating my feelings following parenthood in case you’re there, too (welcome to the club).

  3. So many things have been going on in the news, in our country, even here in Utah, that have felt immensely important, and I have been struggling to feel like my voice and my interests in food have mattered in the midst of it all. I would get a flash of inspiration and hop in the kitchen and pick up my phone to turn on some music, and some clickbait about the climate crisis or another shooting would pop up on the screen and suddenly I would be consumed by feelings of hopelessness and sadness and wonder where the greater value lay in my work.

And at the same time, food became an immensely important component of both self-care and connecting with people while I navigated my own emotions surrounding parenthood. I began to notice how having nutritious prepared ingredients made constructing a quick, wholesome meal so much easier, and how easily my spirits were raised by eating something full of vegetables and textures and flavor. I noticed how sweets generally didn’t make me feel emotionally great, and at the same time, there was nothing better than eating a gigantic chocolate chip cookie when what I was craving was a gigantic chocolate chip cookie. Sauces like romesco and tahini-lemon dressing could take a simple plate of scrambled eggs, a handful of arugula, and toast into the stratosphere. Braised meats and stews waiting patiently in the fridge felt like the equivalent of a bear hug each time I portioned some out to be reheated.

I have also been finding immense joy in having dinner with friends during the week, even if dinner looks much different than it used to. My days are usually unpredictable in terms of sleep, food, exercise, and work, and sharing food with others at the end of the day has proved to be a powerful reset button. It additionally has helped my daughter feel a greater sense of community and belonging, and has allowed her to bond with good friends who have become our Utah family over the years. We have made some basic AF dinners at times, let’s be honest, but even mac and cheese can feel soul-quenching when you’re sharing it with other grateful and hungry parents.

This is not mac and cheese, can you tell? ;) That said, it is more basic than it seems. The potatoes may be cooked ahead of time, arugula can be grabbed out of the clamshell and plunked straight into a salad bowl, and the slow-roasted salmon is cooked gently enough that it will weather a potty-training mishap distracting you from the kitchen (plus it can be cooked in advance, too).

From a nutrition and flavor standpoint, this recipe ticks so many of my favorite boxes. Lots of protein and complex carbs fill you up, but the arugula and bright dressing liven up the dish and keep the flavors interesting and more-ish. And it is the kind of recipe that can handle additions (avocado! green beans! eggs!) and changes (no tarragon in the dressing! red wine vinegar instead of lemon juice!) gracefully.

This is the point in the post where I try to wrap up all of the thoughts in a neat package, and my brain on 4 hours of sleep. just. does. not. want. to. do. it. today. So many thoughts! So many feelings! But where I was trying to go at the beginning of this whole thing was to say that good food has proved to be meaningful in that it helps me to be more present and grateful and happy and charismatic and a better parent and a better friend and a better partner and a better family member and a better person. The best version of myself.

Imagine, if we were all the best versions of ourselves… oh man, wouldn’t it be FANTASTIC.

slow-roasted salmon and pink potato salad

Do your potatoes need to be pink for this salad? No way. Does your salmon need to be wild, or should it be farmed? Up to you. Even the ingredients list for the dressing is fudge-able. I like an herby, heavy on the mustard dressing, but you can adjust amounts to your liking. The thing that makes or breaks this salad the most is how robust and lively your arugula happens to be, so be picky; if all of the arugula is wilty and sad looking, baby spinach will work in a pinch.

In classic busy-parent form, this recipe is brief and rather general in instruction. I’ll come back and adjust it when I have time. Or I won’t! We shall see. If you can boil potatoes and mix things with a whisk, you’ll be fine. <3

Dressing:

  • 1 small shallot, thinly sliced

  • juice and zest of 1 lemon, preferably Meyer

  • 1 large pinch salt

  • 1 dollop (2 teaspoons-ish) dijon mustard

  • 1 dollop (2 teaspoons-ish) whole-grain mustard

  • 1-2 tablespoons chopped soft herbs (such as tarragon, chives, chervil, and/or parsley)

  • olive oil (2-3 tablespoons)

Salad:

  • 1 pound fingerling or other small potatoes, sliced, and boiled in salted water until tender; drain and cool.

  • 3-4 good handfuls arugula

  • 1/2 pound slow roasted salmon (rub uncooked filets with a generous amount of olive oil, sprinkle with kosher salt, and roast in a pre-heated 250˚F oven until just cooked through but still moist, checking after 20 minutes; for me, thick filets can take upwards of 30 minutes).

  • Freshly ground black pepper (optional)

  1. Make the dressing by whisking together everything but the olive oil in a small bowl (or, if making the salad immediately, directly in a salad bowl). Slowly add in the olive oil, whisking until well-combined and emulsified.

  2. Combine the cooked and cooled potatoes and the dressing and mix well to combine.

  3. Using your hands or a fork, gently break the salmon into bite-sized chunks or flakes.

  4. Just before you are ready to serve the salad, add the arugula and toss gently with your hands. Scatter the salmon over the top of the salad, and toss once or twice with your hands to somewhat combine without breaking up the salmon chunks. Serve immediately (with the option for ground black pepper, if you wish), though if you don’t mind wilted arugula, the salad can sit for up to an hour.

a rather french roasted chicken

autumn, dinner, lunch, main dishes, winterRachel Sanders1 Comment

Oh, hey! It's our old dining room!

I've been saving this recipe for a while because I wanted to tinker with a couple of things and see if it made the chicken even better, but nope! It was perfect to begin with. Go figure.

This is Frances Wilson's recipe, or at least, what my brain remembers of it from cooking school eight years ago. It is very French. There is tarragon and garlic and cream and alcohol and I usually listen to Yann Tiersen when I make it, which I'd like to think adds a little something extra (probably angst, if it is his most recent album). And even more than it is French, it is very simple, even with the addition of a pan sauce. The sauce echoes some of the ingredients from roasting the chicken, so there are fewer additional items you need to make it all come together. Quite practical, non?

If you have never made a pan sauce before, hooray! You are going to love it. Get all your goodies together beforehand, get your pan nice and toasty, and then sauce away. There is almost never enough pan sauce for me, and you could probably stretch it a little bit by adding some good quality (preferably homemade) chicken stock and letting it reduce down to a glaze. But if you don't have good chicken stock, just use the other ingredients and make sure everyone appreciates every drop of sauce they get.

I served this recipe with Suzanne Goin's soubise (which is like risotto with an inverted ratio of onions to rice) and some of those [roasted] Dr. Seuss carrots which Whole Foods has been carrying recently. You can serve it with whatever starch/veg you like (roasted potatoes would be awesome), though I'd keep the seasoning strictly to salt and possibly pepper, just so nothing takes away from your pan sauce.

I don't truss my chicken because 1) I am lazy, and 2) it cooks more quickly when it isn't trussed or stuffed (because the heat gets inside, yo). Also, 3) because part of the way I check a chicken for doneness is by sticking a fork in the cavity and tipping it up a little in the pan to see if the juices that start to run out are clear (if they are reddish pink, your chicken is not done). You can also use a thermometer to check for doneness by taking a reading in the meaty part of a thigh (avoid touching the bone for an accurate reading). Take your chicken out at 165˚F; the temp will continue to rise about 5˚F further out of the oven.

Also because 4) then the skin around the cavity and on the legs gets nice and crispy, mmm.

The flipping bit comes from Alice Waters' method for roasting chicken. I sometimes leave the chicken breast-side down for only ten minutes if it seems like the bird is browning very fast (adding the extra five minutes to the final portion while breast side-up), so be sure to keep an eye on your chicken during this part.


To make the roasted chicken: Preheat the oven to 425˚F. Lightly oil a heavy-bottomed roasting pan or cast iron skillet.

Remove any innards still inside of the chicken and pat the outside and inside dry.

Combine the rest of the ingredients for roasting the chicken in a small bowl, smushing everything together with your fingers. Ta-da! You've made a compound butter.

Gently lift the skin from the breast of the chicken just enough so that you can spread some of the butter around on the meat underneath the skin (this helps to lock in the flavor, baste the meat, and keep the garlic/herbs/zest from burning. Spread 2/3 of the butter on the breasts, then spread the remaining 1/3 underneath the skin of the thighs. Try your very best not to tear the skin of the chicken; you want it to stay in place to help keep the meat from drying out during cooking. Sprinkle a little salt inside of the chicken cavity and place in your pan breast side-up.

Put the pan with the chicken in the oven and reduce the heat to 400˚F (the extra bit of heat helps the skin to begin browning). Roast for 20 minutes, then flip the bird over breast-side down, and roast for 15 minutes. Flip again, and continue to roast for 20-15 minutes, or until the chicken is 165˚F at the thigh, the skin is browned and crisp, and the juices inside run clear when the chicken is tilted neck-up in the pan.

Remove the chicken from the pan and let rest, loosely tented with foil, while you make the pan sauce.

To make the pan sauce: place the roasting pan (still with its drippings) over medium-high heat and add the shallots, stirring constantly. Cook for 15-30 seconds, then deglaze the pan with brandy, scraping the pans bottom to stir up all of the fond (cooked on drippings/leftover meat bits) into the sauce. Let reduce by 1/2, then add the chicken broth, (if using) and reduce again until the sauce is viscous and approaching the consistency of a glaze.

Remove the pan from the heat, add a generous squeeze of lemon, the fresh tarragon, and the cream, and stir to combine. Taste, and add additional salt and/or lemon if necessary. The sauce may be held briefly on the lowest possible flame while you carve the chicken, though you may need to whisk it briefly before serving (do not let it boil once you've added the cream, or it may separate and become greasy looking).

Serve the carved chicken straightaway with the sauce.

FOR THE ROASTED CHICKEN:

1 whole chicken, preferably organic and air-chilled
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature
zest of 1 lemon (save the rest of the lemon for the pan sauce)
1 generous pinch kosher salt, plus additional salt for the chicken cavity
a little freshly ground black pepper (but not very much, just a grind or two)
2 teaspoons finely chopped tarragon
2 cloves garlic, finely minced

FOR THE PAN SAUCE:

1 medium shallot, minced
1/2 cup brandy
1/2 cup homemade/good quality chicken stock (optional; omit if not good quality)
lemon juice, to taste
2 teaspoons finely chopped tarragon
1/4-1/3 cup cream
kosher salt (optional! Taste the sauce before adding, it may be salty enough from the chicken drippings)