Paprika-Rubbed Sheet-Pan Chicken with Lemon by Alison Roman

When I was first learning to cook for myself, I made a lot of chicken. I was still under the impression that a proper meal consisted of meat, a starch, and a vegetable. Chicken seemed like the most approachable meat at the store, since it’s practically the only kind my mother cooked while growing up, besides ground taco meat. But after a year of rubbery, overcooked chicken breasts with little to no flavor, I was decidedly anti-chicken. The following year, my kitchen became basically vegetarian and my diet little more than black beans, sweet potatoes, kale, and chips & salsa. Since the backlash year, I’ve dabbled now and then in chicken thighs and breaded chicken, but I never craved chicken, and never did I choose to cook it unless asked. 

Until now. 

I’m not using hyperbole when I say that Alison Roman has single-handedly made me into a chicken lover. This paprika-rubbed chicken is the third chicken recipe of hers that I’ve made in a month. “Don’t stop me now, ‘cause I’m having a good time…” 

Just like the cover recipe of nothing fancy [see my post about Slow-Roasted Oregano Chicken], this darling of Dining In requires few ingredients, little skill, and almost no active time, and yet it yields the most juicy, flavorful, I-might-eat-the-whole-bird-in-one-sitting chicken. The chicken spends 2-3 hours (depending on the bird’s weight) in the oven at a low temp while the meat soaks in the oil and spices and the skin gets browned and crisp. Only some quartered lemons accompany the chicken on the rimmed sheet pan. 

The first step is to spatchcock the bird, which is to cut out the backbone of the chicken, allowing it to lay flatter and roast quicker. Spatchcoking is the only true skill you need to make this recipe. I first learned to spatchcock when we lived in Houston and my pal Margaret (I’ll mention her a lot in this project, it’s inevitable) encouraged me to make a buttermilk-brined chicken by Samin Nosrat. I watched this tutorial and got it right on the first try. Not because I’m super cool, but because it’s easy to do. You just need some sharp kitchen shears and a have-no-fear attitude when you hear those backbones cracking. Also, once you know how to spatchcock, you can start telling your friends that you know how to spatchcock and it will sound mysterious and sort of intimidating, and you will seem fearless and strong* (because you are). 

Smoked paprika AND hot paprika are used here, along with fennel seeds and chile flakes. Alison loves her fennel seeds, my goodness. I had a bottle of them sitting on my shelf the last few years, and within just 4 weeks of this project, I drained it. These four spices diffuse into the olive oil as the chicken roasts, and the leftover oil (post roasting) can be used to toss with veggies or as a bread dip. 

She tells you to roast everything on a baking sheet (see recipe title), but doesn’t say anything about foil or parchment, which is my usual M.O. Here I chose to trust Alison, and put the bird on a bare baking sheet. There were no issues, and it cleaned easily. 

Of the three whole roast chickens I’ve made so far for this project, this one was J’s favorite. I served it with a simple kale salad and Alison’s Spicy Garlicky White Beans (post forthcoming). The leftover meat made a phenomenal chicken sandwich (I <3 sandwiches).

*I don’t know this from experience -- I haven’t actually tried to announce this at a party -- but I bet I’m right.

7 recipes cooked, 218 recipes to go.

Slow Salmon with Citrus and Herbs by Alison Roman

Madeline took her first bite, and the next words out of her mouth were: “This is the best salmon I’ve ever had.” 

J asked for salmon for his birthday dinner. We were having our favorite couple friends in Minneapolis over to celebrate and I wanted a full Alison Roman meal, top to bottom. But salmon was not what I expected J to ask for on a cold January night. (I associate fish with warm, summer days!) 

Thankfully Alison has multiple salmon recipes between her two cookbooks, and I only needed to read the introduction to this Slow Salmon with Citrus and Herbs recipe to know which one I would be making. She tells us in no uncertain terms that the common response from anyone eating this fish is “this is the best salmon I’ve ever had.” In case I needed any proof, Madeline’s first words were verbatim from the intro. So without further ado… 

Buy a 1.5 lb salmon filet, preferably fresh but certainly thawed if from frozen. I primarily rely on Trader Joes and Costco to have affordable, fresh fish. The filet is laid in a deep baking dish (not a rimmed sheet pan because you’re about to let the fish dive into a legitimate swimming pool of olive oil). Cover her with plenty of salt and pepper. Then layer the top of the filet with thinly sliced citrus and sprigs of fresh herbs. 

I chose sliced lemon and navel oranges. I tried to slice them between 1/8th to 1/4th inch thick, but I’ll say that the closer you can get to 1/8th, or thinner, the better. My thicker slices rose above the oil and didn’t melt into the fish the way I hoped. Next time I’ll slice my citrus even thinner. I liked the orange and lemon combo, although you can use other citrus like tangerines and blood oranges. The herbs are also flexible. I chose dill, chives and parsley.

Lots of salmon recipes use citrus and herbs, but what makes this one so special is the seemingly excessive amount of olive oil it bakes in and the low-and-slow baking method. 

For years I watched my mother skimp on fattening ingredients like butter and olive oil. I spent my first years of independent cooking doing the same. She was doing her best to control cholesterol for her and my dad (important!), and that was back when fats were overemphasized as all bad. It wasn’t until I started learning about the science of cooking and following some other New York Times chefs that I became confident in using that whole stick of butter. So when Alison tells me to pour 1.5 cups of olive oil over my fish, I’ll do exactly that. 

The recipe says that the dish is baked at a low temp of 300 degrees for upwards of 30 minutes, which doesn’t sound terribly slow. Perhaps it’s a difference in ovens, but my oven did not cook my salmon in the time Alison told me. I started checking it with our meat thermometer at 30 minutes, and it was still 30 degrees undercooked. I was aiming for a 135 degree internal salmon temperature. I resorted to turning up the oven to 315, then 325, and checking the oven every 7-8 minutes. By the 55 minute mark, the salmon was cooked through perfectly. Next time, I’ll start with my oven set to 310 and start checking around 40 minutes, just to meet Alison halfway. 

The salmon I chose had a thicker center which means it rose slightly above the oil. While I think that is perfectly fine, I will say that that portion of the fish didn’t get as melt-in-your-mouth as the thinner parts did. So pay attention to the thickness of your cut and perhaps adjust the olive oil accordingly. 

Once the fish is cooked, it’s topped with 2 whole cups of chopped herbs. Yes, TWO CUPS. It’s like a lovely fresh salad on top of your fish, and it plates beautifully. Don’t skimp on the herbs, either. 

In case you’re wondering, here was my full menu: 

• Slow Salmon with Citrus and Herbs

• Crispy Vinegared Potatoes with Dried Chile (post to come)

• Garlicky Broccoli and Greens with Hazelnuts and Coriander

• Butter-tossed Radishes with Fresh Za’atar

• Gluten-Free Angel Food Cake (my only non-Alison recipe; J’s favorite dessert is angel food cake)

This was the best salmon I’ve ever had. It will most definitely be had again.

6 recipes cooked, 219 recipes to go.

Spicy Pork Meatballs in Brothy Tomatoes and Toasted Fennel by Alison Roman

My childhood best friend, Kearci, and I tend to share brainwaves even though we live more than 2,000 miles apart. Our recent annual Christmas gift exchange is just one example of our shared consciousness, since we each gave the other a copy of our most trustworthy cookbook. Kearci gave me nothing fancy by Alison Roman, and I gifted her with Dinner by Melissa Clark (we love our NYT authors). Delighted, we sat together on her apartment porch and flipped through the books for well over an hour, pointing out our favorite recipes as we ooo’ed and ahh’ed over the gorgeous food pictures. I flipped to “Spicy Pork Meatballs” and read the name out loud. Kearci snapped her head up and without hesitation told me that this recipe “will change your life.” I’ll grant that we tend to use some hyperbole when we’re together… We discovered in middle school that overtly dramatic conversations were a perfect way to make each other laugh. But Kearci is also someone who feels things strongly, so I knew to take her seriously. 

Good thing I did. I’ve always been a fan of meatballs. Sadly and gladly, these ones may have single-handedly ruined all others for me. Because it’s not just the meatballs that get you, it’s the broth they float in. 

Let’s start with the meatballs themselves. Alison suggests using pork, turkey, beef, lamb, or a combination. I chose pork and turkey because I wanted a less fatty meat to balance out my pork. I think the combo worked fine, but turkey never has as much flavor as I want it to. Next time I’ll try a pork and beef pairing. To assemble the meatballs, the meat is mixed with garlic, fresh herbs (chives, parsley, I threw in some thyme I had on hand), dried spices (fennel seeds, paprika, pepper flakes), and yogurt. This was my first time adding yogurt to meatballs -- I’m used to eggs or ricotta as the binding agent. The yogurt worked surprisingly well. 

Once mixed, it’s time to form those balls o’ meat, into a 1½” diameter, or as Alison puts it, “about the size of a plum.” If you’re like me and you have a hard time approximating sizes or picturing how big a plum should be, I suggest taking out a ruler for reference. Why? Because these meatballs will fall apart if they’re too large. I say this from experience. At least half of my meatballs lost their ball-shape during browning, and I believe one reason was that they were too large, and therefore not compact enough. Learn from my mistake. 

Note to self: make those meatballs smaller than you think they should be. And yes, I write in my cookbooks like a journal.

Once your on-the-smaller-side meatballs are formed, it’s time to brown them in a pot filled with a layer of olive oil. I made another mistake at this step -- I let the pot get too hot. The oil gets really excited after sitting in the same pot over strong heat for 20 minutes of browning, and by the last few meatballs, it browns the outside quickly without leaving enough time for the inside temperature of the meatball to rise. This is where half my meatballs fell apart. So while I recommend turning the stove to medium-high heat at the start, per Alison’s instructions, I’d say that after that first round of meatballs have finished browning, turn down the heat as necessary so the oil doesn’t get too piping. And beware of some oil splatters - I wore long oven mitts as protection. 

Another reason why these meatballs ruined other ones: In the past, I’ve been told to bake my meatballs in the oven. While a less messy and perhaps easier method, baking, I now realize, doesn’t help the meat reach its full potential. Baking means the meatballs remain soft and spongey (especially if you’re using ground turkey). The fat tends to become liquid and oozes out of the meat. Browning keeps the fat in and turns it into a charred, salty meatball exterior, offering up more flavor and aesthetic appeal. So yes, browning is worth your time, and yes, the mess too. 

While the first half of this recipe didn’t go as smoothly as I’d hoped, the second half was much more seamless, and made up for some of my early mistakes. 

In the same pot that you browned the meatballs, add shallot and garlic and saute until lightly browned. Then cherry tomatoes are added and cooked till bursting. Finally, water and vinegar complete the broth ensemble. Don’t forget to scrape up any bits of fat and crumbled meat that were left on the bottom of the pot. Simmer the sauce for a few minutes and add the browned meatballs back in. Any inner raw parts left in the meatballs will be taken care of as they finish cooking in the simmering sauce. The flavors should all be best friends by now, and can invite a few more over for the party, mainly mint, pepper flakes, and more fennel seeds. I added some shaved parmesan as well and served with fresh sourdough for soaking in the broth. 

Kearci strongly recommends saving these meatball leftovers and eating them in a sandwich/sub form. You can even dip your meatball sandwich into the broth like an au jus!

5 recipes cooked, 220 recipes to go.

Smashed Sweet Potatoes with Maple and Sour Cream by Alison Roman

I first heard about this recipe from my friend Margaret well over a year ago. She had borrowed nothing fancy from the library and was immediately drawn to this recipe. We share a deep love for sweet potatoes in all forms. So it’s no surprise that this was the inaugural recipe, the gateway to my journey of cooking through Alison Roman’s cookbooks. 

The entire recipe concept is basically found in the name. A baked sweet potato, smashed and fried in oil and butter until the skin is dark and crispy, then smothered in fresh herbs, sweet maple syrup, and tangy sour cream & lemon juice, with a sprinkle of flaky sea salt. It has all of the textural and flavor variance you could want in one dish: sweet, salty, sour, creamy, soft, crispy, crunchy. 

This recipe doesn’t need any selling, so I’ll just provide a few anecdotes about the ingredients used. 

Alison lets you know that small sweet potatoes are best, and she is quite right. Not only do they bake and cool faster, they also fit more easily into one pan for the crisping process and make for a better serving portion. Look for potatoes that are maybe just a tad larger than your palm. I also recommend baking all of the sweet potatoes at once, and storing any extras you know will become leftovers in the refrigerator before crisping in the pan and adding the fixings. That way you can cook them in the butter and oil just before eating, preserving the integrity of the crunchy skin. (Shoutout to Kearci, my nothing fancy benefactor and best friend, for that tip!)

Sour cream alternatives: If you’re like me and can’t have cow’s dairy (sad face), don’t be dismayed - you have options! I subbed the sour cream with Goat’s milk yogurt, which can be found at Trader Joes. Though the yogurt’s consistency is much thinner, it still achieved the creamy sour balance point to the maple syrup that Alison is going for. If cow’s milk doesn’t bother you, but you don’t have sour cream, then plain Greek yogurt will be a fine substitute. 

The recipe does call for some toasted buckwheat groats to be sprinkled over the finished potatoes, adding an extra crunch. I’ve never had these before, and didn’t plan well enough ahead to buy them. If you make this with the groats, please tell me all about it! I want to know if they add anything beyond texture.

Finally, a short PSA about flaky sea salt. Until a few short months ago, I was misinformed, and frankly downright naive about the difference between coarse Kosher salt and flaky sea salt. That is to say that I thought they were the same thing. I was gravely mistaken. Unlike coarse Kosher salt, flaky sea salt comes in actual flake (not grain) form, and maintains its structure even after being added to a dish. It provides tiny, delightful, salty bursts that punctuate bites and often linger in the mouth. They are visually lovely too and can make anything you cook appear fancier. It’s a small thing that I take great delight in. (This is the kind I use.) 

4 recipes cooked, 221 recipes to go.

Garlicky Broccoli and Greens with Hazelnut and Coriander by Alison Roman

Here we have another simple-to-make side that goes well with pretty much any main dish you can think of. Its ingredients are few and flexible, and it’s bursting with flavor and texture. This recipe comes from nothing fancy. 

The tenets of this dish are the greens - broccoli and kale, olive oil, garlic, lemon, a crunchy nut, and chopped coriander seed. Alison tells you that both grilling and roasting the greens are viable options. I’m confident that grilling would be delightful - I’d love to have taste some char marks on the broccoli stems. But alas, I don’t own a grill. Oven roasting it is. 

The torn kale and heads of broccoli are quartered - stem included! - tossed with oil, and roasted until slightly crispy. The inclusion of the stem was a relatively new choice for me - I usually get rid of it because it can be tough to chew and lacks flavor. Because of this dish, I’m no longer afraid of serving broccoli stems. When quartered, roasted and seasoned, they are a filling, tender bite of green that doesn’t overwhelm you with the fact that it’s a hunk of broccoli stem. Cutting them into quarters is really the right call here. 

Quartered broccoli & kale before they get crispy in the oven

While the greens are roasting, the garlic, hazelnuts, olive oil and coriander seeds get mixed together to prepare a seasoning bath into which the greens will eventually dive and relax. A few comments on the titular ingredients, hazelnuts and coriander seeds. 

I just don’t like hazelnuts. Their taste is revolting to me. I think I’ve always disliked them, but I didn’t consciously realize it until last year. I was travelling for work and had an hour to get lunch in the airport before my flight. Since the company was paying, I chose a sit-down restaurant. I ordered a beet and arugula salad with goat cheese and hazelnuts. After the first few bites, I noticed my mouth was scowling. Something in this salad tasted funky. I tried each ingredient separately to deduce the issue, and lo and behold, the hazelnuts were infecting the whole dish. It’s difficult to describe exactly what’s so off-putting to me. The only word that comes to mind is musty? Now that I know about my hazelnut aversion, I understand why I thought Nutella was gross as a kid. 

Anywho, if you too think hazelnuts taste musty, then I say swap those puppies for another nut like chopped almonds or pistachios, and call it a good day. 

If you’ve never purchased coriander seeds (found often at Whole Foods or in the bulk spice section of a place like Sprouts), now is the time. The crunchy texture of these tiny chopped seeds are the X factor in this dish, making it not your ordinary vegetable side. Coriander seeds don’t have to be one of those spices that you bought for one particular recipe and then languish on your shelf for the next 5 years, untouched. Once I discovered coriander seeds a few years ago, I’ve found myself reaching for them frequently. You just have to try them to fall in love. 

Alison tells us one more lovely thing about this side dish: it is still delicious when served at room temp. If you’re like me and you find it stressful to time your cooking so that all parts of your meal are simultaneously piping hot, then put your mind at ease, and make this dish first. It can sit on the table well ahead of mealtime, watching you prep its fellow delicious partners. 

3 recipes cooked, 222 recipes to go.