Gathering recipes for the first edition of Almost Italian, we included over twenty different Italian-American preparations for chicken.

Given European Italians’ relative indifference to their own poultry, we were surprised. As we’ve already written, the chickens the immigrants had known back home were small, sinewy birds, better suited for egg production or the soup pot than for Chicken alla Cacciatora.

But Italians new to America quickly took to an inexpensive source of protein. Back in Calabria in 1910, a man might have eaten chicken once or twice a year, but here in America even on his $10.00 per week wages, he could afford to provide his family with chicken every week.

Assuring a supply of both eggs and meat, the urban immigrants built poultry coops on tenement rooftops, while those who moved to rural areas could raise larger flocks.

The immigrants’ early recipes followed the old treatments they knew for dealing with tough fowl—stewing and braising the whole bird, more for the stock than for the meat. But as Italians settled into America where chicken was meatier, more tender, and much more plentiful, they developed new recipes. Birds were cut into portion-sized pieces as with Chicken alla Cacciatora. With more birds, there were more livers, giblets, and necks to be gathered for those long-simmered sauces Italians enjoyed over pasta.

Veal had never been as popular here as in Italy, and when it was available, it was still expensive. But Italian cooks discovered that less expensive chicken breasts could be pounded and sautéed as cutlets—or rolled around other ingredients like cheese and spinach. Restaurant menus printed after World War II feature Chicken Francese, a breaded chicken breast, sautéed in butter and finished with a sauce of butter, lemon juice, and white wine.

Chicken Francese was so well received that chefs soon began turning out all manner of dishes involving chicken breasts. By the late 1970’s food writers Craig Claiborne and Florence Fabricant were busy informing eager New York Times readers about the latest neighborhood restaurant to offer Chicken Marco Polo, Chicken Saltimbocca, Chicken Margherita, and Chicken Marsala.

Of course it would have been unthinkable to discard the legs, thighs, and wings, and these continued to go into stews and braises, as well as new recipes like Chicken alla Contadina, and Chicken Scarpariello.

For the next few weeks, Almost Italian will focus on chicken recipes. While we’ve already presented a few chicken dishes from the Italian-American repertoire, we still have a lot of ground to cover. From ubiquitous dishes like Chicken Parmesan to regional American favorites like Chicken Vesuvio and relative newcomers like Chicken Fra Diavolo, we’ll be looking at the vast array of Italian-American chicken recipes. Stay tuned and send us your comments.

Chicken Francese

In 1891, Italian cookery writer Pellegrino Artusi published several recipes (including one for gooseberries) served, alla Francese ‘in the style of the French.’ The description refers to dredging an item in beaten eggs and flour before sautéeing.

Ingredients:

4 Skinless, boneless chicken breasts
Salt & freshly ground black pepper
1 Egg, lightly beaten
1 Cup flour
1/4 Cup olive oil
1/2 Cup dry white wine
1 Cup chicken stock
Juice of 1/2 lemon
4 Tbs. flat-leaf Italian Parsley

Preparation:

Place the chicken breasts between two sheets of plastic wrap and pound them with a meat mallet or a rolling pin to a uniform thickness of approximately 3/8 in. Season the breasts on both sides with salt and pepper, and reserve on a plate.

Pour the flour into a shallow-sided dish and season with salt and pepper. Pour the eggs into another shallow-sided dish and season them with salt and pepper as well.

Dip each chicken breast into the eggs, covering both sides. Remove and drain for a moment, then dredge each breast in the flour and reserve on a plate.

Heat a large sauté pan over medium-high heat, then add the oil. Add the chicken breasts and sauté until the breasts begin to turn white around the edges (Approximately 2 – 3 minutes per side). If necessary, do this step in batches. Don’t crowd the pan.

Remove the breasts and reserve on a plate, covering them loosely with aluminum foil.

Raise the heat to high, and add the wine. Boil for 1 – 2 minutes to evaporate the alcohol, and to reduce, stirring with a wooden spoon to loosen any bits of chicken that have caramelized on the bottom of the pan.

Add the chicken stock, the lemon juice, and the lemon zest, and boil for approximately 5 minutes until the sauce is reduced to approximately 2/3 cup. Turn off the heat, but leave the pan on the burner.

Add the reserved chicken breasts, basting them with the sauce as they reheat.

To Serve:

Place one chicken breast on each of four dinner plates. Spoon the sauce over each one, and garnish with the chopped parsley.

Serves four

[ad#bottom]

It is well-documented that Tuscan Sirio Maccione, owner of Le Cirque, invented Pasta Primavera in 1978. Entertaining a clutch of food writers, chefs, and other gourmets at his Upper East Side establishment, then considered one of New York’s prime “frog ponds” (high-end French restaurants), Signor Maccione devised a spur-of-the-moment dish of pasta. The story goes that a meeting turned into lunch and the maestro went into his kitchen, foraged among the prep stations, and created a new dish.

“What do you call this?” asked one of the happy diners.

Since he had used asparagus, baby peas, and tiny green beans, the restaurateur replied, “Pasta Primavera,” referring to the spring vegetables. Signor Maccione’s caprice was an instant hit.

Like many skilled, spontaneous cooks, the creator gave his dish no further thought. However, one of the guests happened to have been Craig Claiborne—then food editor for The New York Times—who promptly wrote an article about this “spectacular” new “northern Italian” preparation.

Within a week, hip and well-heeled New Yorkers were clamoring for Pasta Primavera. However, that spontaneous creation wasn’t on the menu—not yet anyway. Hurried meetings and tastings were convened. Soon, Le Cirque’s chefs had a replicable version of that first Pasta Primavera. In the meantime, the restaurant’s clientele learned to order it “off the menu.” Pasta Primavera attained star status on the cover of the premier edition of Food & Wine Magazine in 1978.

In the final quarter of the 20th century, greater numbers of American tourists traveling to Europe—especially to Italy—gained an awareness of northern Italian food. The perception that the subtle northern sauces made with butter and cream were “lighter” made them fashionable and gave them a marketing edge over the familiar Italian-American red sauces. (In fact, many “white” northern sauces are considerably more caloric than southern tomato sauces).

The inclusion of so many different vegetables in a pasta preparation is a dead giveaway that this dish was invented here. Chinese-American restaurateurs learned to make economical use of seven or eight colorful vegetables in the same chicken stir-fry, while back-home, Chinese dishes tended to highlight a single vegetable. The same restraint is characteristic of traditional Italian combinations of pasta with verdure, vegetables. Pasta with broccoli, pasta with asparagus or baby peas, but never with so many varied primizie, the earliest and often most costly baby vegetables. That such a number of fresh ingredients would be joined by yet more costly mushrooms, pine nuts, olive oil, cream, butter…and cheese(!) would be comically bewildering to any Italian. Nonetheless, this dish is a glorious expression of excess.

Signor Maccione may be a native of Montecatini in Tuscany, but Pasta Primavera could only have happened here. Whether you call this Almost Italian… Almost Northern Italian… North American Northern Italian… or just “Delicious!”—here is a meal that celebrates spring!

Ingredients:

1 Oz. Dried porcini
1 Cup warm water
½ Lbs. asparagus, trimmed and cut into 1-inch pieces
¼ Lbs. green beans cut into 1-in. pieces
¾ Cup frozen baby peas, thawed
2 Cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped
½ tsp. Crushed red pepper flakes
4 Tbs. Extra-virgin olive oil
1 Lbs. Spaghetti or Linguine
4 Tbs. Unsalted butter
2/3 Cup heavy cream
1 tsp. Finely grated fresh lemon zest
1 Cup freshly grated Parmigiano
¼ Cup finely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
¼ Cup finely chopped fresh basil
1/3 Cup pine nuts, lightly toasted
Additional Parmigiano

Preparation:

Soak the porcini in warm water in a small bowl for 30 minutes. Remove from the water, squeezing the excess liquid back into the bowl. Pour the soaking liquid through a sieve lined with a dampened paper towel into a small bowl and reserve. Rinse the porcini to remove any grit, then squeeze dry, and chop coarsely.

Cook the asparagus and beans in a 6- to 8-quart pot of boiling salted water for 3 minutes. Add the peas and cook until the beans and asparagus are just tender, about 1 – 2 minutes more. Transfer the vegetables to a bowl of ice and cold water to halt their cooking. Reserve the water in the pot for cooking the pasta. Drain the cooled vegetables in a colander.

Heat a large sauté pan over medium-low heat and add the olive oil. Add the minced garlic, and the pepperoncino, and sauté for about 1 minute, until the garlic becomes fragrant. Add the drained vegetables, season with salt and pepper, and cook, stirring, for about 2 minutes, then transfer to a bowl.

Return the water in the pot to a boil and cook the pasta until al dente. Drain the pasta in a colander. Add the butter, cream, lemon zest, and porcini to the now-empty, but still warm pasta pot and simmer for 2 minutes. Stir in the cheese and add the pasta, tossing to coat and adding as much of reserved porcini soaking liquid as necessary (1/2 to 2/3 cup) to keep the pasta well coated. Add the green vegetables, parsley, basil, and pine nuts. Taste for seasoning, add salt and pepper as necessary, and toss to combine.

To Serve:

Divide the pasta among six warmed plates and garnish with Parmigiano shavings.

Serves six