The last time in Valencia, our evening walks ended up in a surreal medieval festival held in the bullring where I tasted my best hogroast ever drenched in a fabulous herb and olive oil dressing. I still remember going through the airport security and the x-ray machines, and having to open my bagfuls of chorizos, cheeses, and saffron tubes for inspection to the approving smiles of the spanish officers.
My dog Lucinda's first taste of cheese just happened to be basque cheeses because shortly after our Valencian trip, we picked her up from the breeder. To comfort the poor new puppy, we gave her the cheeses from Valencia. Sadly, now her cheese palate is so fussy (discerning, as my partner claims) that she will turn her nose up at most other cheeses.
I digress. I want to talk about chicken here in a Valencian Style but I call it that because I think there really is no proper name for it. I stumbled upon the dish by accident and this is the best adaptation I can offer because it requires some atmospheric elements. It was hot, it was the siesta and we were hungry, having emerged from yet another art museum. Most restaurants were already shut and only kebab places were opened. We found this cafe (I don't even know where it is anymore) promising air-conditioning and a fixed price menu of salad, chicken, and custard. We didn't care by then, we wanted to sit and have liquids and food. The cafe was small, with the usual plastic lining on tables (seating no more than 16 people), plastic cups and plastic flowers. The cafe was not serving anything else.
The salad arrived -- the usual testament to mediterranean vegetables, drizzled with olive oil. Then the chicken came, and oh lordy, what a wonder. It was so good that we used our bread to sweep up whatever drips of gravy and garlic we could find. Here is my version of the dish.
Fresh bay leaves and garlic (whole cloves, unpeeled) are essential here, lots and lots and lots of both (you decide what 'lots' mean to you). Along with some roughly cut shallots, throw the mass of them into the saucepan with the heated olive oil and stir until golden brown. A little saffron helps too but is not necessary (though I prefer it). When hot and fragrant enough, fry the chopped up chicken pieces (rubbed with seasalt) in it, along with the gizzards and liver until the concoction is crackling, sputtering, and the chicken pieces are browned. Once browned, throw some dry sherry and a little marsala into the mixture, add coarse pepper, followed by some white wine. Cover the sauce pan, turn the fire down, and let the liquid cook down until you see the gravy separating from the oil. Add salt to taste. Serve. Ensure there is plenty of bread around. Down with red wine.
I do not demand that there are special types of chickens for this dish but whenever possible, it would be preferable if the chicken is free range, free-range corn-fed or organic free range. Even the free run chicken would be acceptable as I know some poultry farmers try to simulate outdoor conditions within indoor environments due to adverse weather. My problem with battery chickens is not only the horrible treatment of the birds but the taste and texture of the chicken itself. I do not want to be overly preachy about this but if there are options, and you can afford them, please think of free range and organic.
Tip. The gizzard and liver are intrinsic to this dish, don't throw them away. However, if as usual, the chicken is purchased without them, look to chicken liver pate as a substitute -- adding to the mixture before pouring the wine in during the cooking process. The liver gives the dish a rich and earthy flavor. The confection of bay leaves, garlic and the liver is what makes this dish absolutely delightful.
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