Le Petit Grignotage
Christine
The cockerel, that vain, imperious bird, stands for vigilance in the Christian tradition, and the French recently adopted it as their national symbol (by recent, I mean circa 1830). It replaced, most sadly, the fleur-de-lis, or lily, which stood for Mary, the patron saint of France. One could say the replacement had something to do with the fact that the cockerel’s Latin name, gallus, is the same as the Latin for Gaul; or that its proud strut is an apt depiction of the French national attitude; or (perhaps most accurately) that the secular powers, having overthrown l’ancien régime only a few decades earlier, felt the need to find a national emblem less steeped in Roman Catholic “myth”.
Whatever the case, the rooster, despite Napoleon’s disapproval (who said that “the cockerel has no strength; in no way can it stand as the image of an empire such as France”), has appeared on French stamps, regimental flags, national seals, gold francs, buttons on the uniforms of the National Guard, and, of all things, t-shirts. (Apparently, it’s also in danger of extinction.) And it figures in one of the most prominent French dishes of all time: coq au vin.
Coq au vin hails from the Dijon region, right in the center of Burgundy. It’s thus little surprise the dish calls for soaking the bird in rich Burgundy wine with mushrooms and shallots. Most Americans use plain chicken, but authentic coq au vin uses the Bresse cockerel—corn-fed, raised like royalty, and kept under the strict supervision of an official government board that oversees the purity of wines and other food products (known as the Appellation d’Origine Controlée—you’ll see the title stamped on certain pricier French wines). There are as many French coq au vin recipes as there are French non-practicing Catholics, ranging from l’haute cuisine to the most rustic and humble concoctions. The recipe I provide here is somewhere in between (perhaps a bit higher than the mean). If you haven’t the time or money to order corn-fed poultry from Bresse, a capon from your local grocer will do. The aged bird will take to its extended wine bath better.
It’s best to marinate the meat in wine for a full day before cooking. If you don’t have the time, you can flambé it in cognac—but having never tried that myself for fear of singing my eyebrows, I can say it’s not necessary. The dish turns out delicieux all the same.
Coq au Vin
1 capon cut into 8 or more pieces
1 bottle of full-body Burgundy wine
6 bacon slices (5 oz), diced
1/2 lb button mushrooms
A dozen shallots
2-3 cloves of garlic, mashed
2 carrots, peeled and quartered
Sunflower oil, unsalted butter
Thyme
Bay leaf
Salt and pepper to taste
Brown the chicken pieces with oil in a skillet. Remove the chicken. Using the same skillet, add garlic and carrots and cook a few minutes.
Put the chicken, carrots, and garlic, thyme, and bay leaf in a large sauce pan. Pour the wine and add salt and pepper. Bring to a boil at moderate heat.
Cover and cook at low heat for about 2 hours.
Cook bacon, shallots, and mushrooms in skillet until brown (~10 minutes)
When the chicken is ready, add bacon, shallots, and mushrooms, and stir well.
Correct seasoning according to taste.
Serve with warm, crusty baguettes.
Bon appetit!
You can read more from Christine at her own blog, Laudem Gloriae.
This sounds great.
Posted by: Card's wife | May 29, 2007 at 09:29 AM
I did not know that there were special corn-fed birds raised just for this dish. I had no idea at all. I have labored under the impression that this recipe was used for disposing of old roosters who were no longer holding up "their end of the bargain" in the hen house. Indeed, I always make coq au vin using old roosters from my friend Smallholder's farm...
Posted by: The Maximum Leader | May 29, 2007 at 10:17 AM
I guess Smallholder is not a romantic.
Christine, my mother once singed her eyebrows but not by igniting cognac. One of the dogs had knocked the flame height control off our gas grill and she didn't see a need for replacing it. We all refused to light the thing because one never knew what would happen. So she would light it. One day she toddled out to the patio to light it. One of my sisters and I remained in the kitchen. There was this great whoosh, a scream and she came flying in the house as white as a ghost with eyebrows singed into little cork screws. My sister and I fell on the floor laughing and she kept repeating "It's not funny." Which made us laugh all the harder.
The gasman appeared the next day to install new knobs....
Posted by: Mrs. Peperium | May 29, 2007 at 12:42 PM
Mrs. P,
Oh my goodness! I'm glad she wasn't hurt.
Maximum,
Having never had rooster myself, I'd be interested to know how it tastes compared to chicken. The meat's a bit tougher, I understand?
Posted by: Christine | May 29, 2007 at 03:42 PM
So, a rooster that isn't keeping up his end of the bargin winds up with his neck on the chopping block. Just like a French leader. I see the connection now. Thank you for the insight.
Dan Patterson
Arrogant Infidel
Posted by: Dan Patterson | May 30, 2007 at 07:26 AM
Christine - Rooster meat is normally near unedible for being so tough. Tough if you just kill the bird and cook it. We let the bird marinate at least overnight, if not for a full day. My recipe is a little different from yours. I don't have it handy or I'd give you the details. But I brown the peices in oil, then sautee the veggies and bacon. After deglazing the pan I put the chicken with the bacon, onions/shallots and wine mixture and let it sit in the fridge for 8 to 24 horus. Then I cook it very slowly in a sealed dutch oven. It turns out wonderfully.
Mrs P - Smallholder ain't no romantic when it comes to his animals. They have to do what they are there to do... Or they git et'ted up.
Posted by: The Maximum Leader | May 30, 2007 at 09:38 AM
Maximum,
Sounds delish.
Posted by: Christine | May 30, 2007 at 09:48 AM
Yes Christine, as a reader of military history, where armies of various nationalities are always being thrown back on whatever is available in the last unraided hencoop, I assumed that the Coq soaking up the Vin was always something tough and stringy and past his shelf date. Thanks for the enlightenment and for a very nicely penned post. I do tend to think this little communal experiment will turn out, like stone soup, delicieux.
Posted by: Mr. Peperium | May 30, 2007 at 06:40 PM