Chicken Parmesan
August 16th, 2008The Old World melanzane alla parmigiana, Eggplant Parmesan, may well be the dish that hatched the greatest number of Almost Italian variations. Eggplant quickly ceded its role as a neutral vehicle for sauce and seasonings to the cheap animal proteins of the Americas. And so chicken breasts took on the mantle of tomato sauce and cheese that had first cloaked eggplant. Among the earliest dishes to exemplify Italian-American cuisine, Chicken Parmesan helped neighborhood restaurants demonstrate their creativity and willingness to adapt old dishes to please their non-Italian clientele.

Vintage Deruta Rooster Plate photo by Skip Lombardi
For the poorest of the early immigrants, Eggplant Parmesan, even though meatless, would nonetheless have been a celebratory dish, enjoyed only when the seasonal luxury of cheese was available to the few sharecroppers who had access to dairy cows or the springtime milk of goats and sheep. Since so few households had their own ovens, a dish that needed long slow baking also required one’s living in a village with a bakery, where one could pay a small sum for the privilege of sharing the residual heat from bread-ovens.
It’s not clear when Chicken Parmesan made its first appearance on an Italian-American menu, but Mrs. Maria Gentile’s The Italian Cookbook, The Art of Eating Well, published in New York by the Italian Book Company in 1919, provides a recipe for Eggplants in the Oven that contains most of the ingredients for the dish we know as Eggplant Parmesan.
And as we’ve discussed in earlier posts, chicken-based dishes really took flight when poultry producers began selling cut-up chicken parts rather than whole birds. Well into the 20th century, most chickens were sold whole and fresh. Eventually, improved refrigeration, freezing, and transportation, as well as more hygienic packaging materials, made selling chicken parts practical—and economical—for both poultry producers and their customers, among them the restaurateurs of Little Italy. Thanks to such innovations, “Chicken Parm,” with a side-order of linguine, has long been ubiquitous on the menus of Italian neighborhood restaurants all over America.
In the 1950′s, when dinner began to take a back seat to Little League practice and American families seemed to have less and less time for sit-down meals, casual chefs and pizza makers adapted Chicken Parmesan as a filling for submarine sandwiches and even as a “topping” for pizza. Clearly, the chef who first dressed a chicken breast in eggplant’s clothing created a hit.
Ingredients:
4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts
1 1/2 Cups unseasoned bread crumbs
1/2 Cup Parmesan *
1 Clove garlic, finely chopped
4 Tbs. Flat-leaf Italian parsley, finely chopped
1 Cup flour, for dredging
Salt & freshly ground black pepper
2 Eggs, lightly beaten
4 Tbs. Olive oil
2 Cups of My Grandmother’s Marinara Sauce
1 Cup shredded mozzarella
Additional Parmesan, freshly grated
1 tsp. crushed red pepper flakes, pepperoncini (optional)
4 Tbs. Flat-leaf Italian parsley, finely chopped
Preparation:
Preheat the oven to 375 F.
Place the chicken breasts between two sheets of plastic wrap and pound them with a meat mallet or a rolling pin until they’ve reached a uniform thickness of approximately 3/8 in. Season the breasts on both sides with salt and pepper and reserve on a plate.
Combine the breadcrumbs, Parmesan, garlic, and parsley in a shallow-sided dish.
Season the flour with salt and pepper. Dredge each chicken breast in the flour, shaking off any excess, then dip each into the beaten eggs, and then into the breadcrumb mixture. Reserve coated breasts on a plate.
Heat a large sauté pan over medium-high heat, then add the oil. Add chicken to pan, cooking only two pieces at a time, if the pan cannot hold all four. Don’t crowd the pan. Cook until golden on both sides.
Ladle 1 cup of the marinara sauce across the bottom of a large ovenproof dish. Place the chicken breasts atop the sauce, in a single layer. Top each breast with the remaining sauce and sprinkle with the mozzarella, Parmesan, and pepperoncini flakes. if you are using them.
Bake the chicken for 20 minutes, or until the cheese begins to bubble and turn brown. Remove from the oven and garnish with the parsley.
Serves four.




August 17th, 2008 at 3:20 am
Chicken parmesan for us is a dish for family celebrations. Last week, my daughter traveled across country for her first visit in two years, and her one meal request was for chicken parmesan.
I make it just like my immigrant mother taught me to make eggplant parmesan, except I use much more parmesan than the dusting my mother used. The bread crumbs are from homemade bread, much of it saved from the board when I cut slices from a loaf. I don’t use flour, instead I use a combination of 2/3 bread crumbs to 1/3 cheese seasoned with white pepper. I also dip the breaded chicken twice into a milk and egg batter.
There is no saute in the pan, no sauce, no mozzarella topping – just a long, slow bake for wonderfully moist and lightly browned chicken breasts. I serve the chicken alone as the star, and our side dish is normally a seasonal salad.
I’ll admit I’m fascinated and slightly horrified by your description of parmesan chicken with lots of sauce topped with mozzarella. It sure is a long way from my mother’s simple and special seasonal eggplant dish.
August 17th, 2008 at 7:36 am
Hi Grace,
Your version of Chicken Parmesan sounds terrific. As for our own version, we’re slightly horrified, too.
But as we’ve said, when neighborhood restaurants sprang up in the Little Italy communities, the majority of patrons weren’t Italians. The Italians in the neighborhood couldn’t understand why they should leave home and pay for something they could cook themselves.
So it was non-Italians who came for the ‘abbondanza,’ and the ‘side-order’ of pasta; these were but two of the elements that made the neighborhood restaurants so appealing.
As for tomato sauce, there’s a reason why the neighborhood restaurants became known as ‘red sauce joints!’
Cucina casalinga, home cooking, can be vastly different from the cuisine on the menus at Italian-American restaurants.
Best regards,
Skip