Jewish-style chicken fricassee

with tiny meatballs

in a sauce of mushrooms, garlic, and white wine

and, a way to make it vegan!

Jewish-style chicken fricassee

in a sauce of mushrooms, garlic, and white wine

Jewish-style chicken fricassee in a sauce of mushrooms, garlic, and white wine

Ingredients:

For the Chicken

6 chicken thighs, skin on, bone in

6 chicken drumsticks

6 chicken wings

1 package chicken giblets

or Seitan Chicken. I use the recipe from Nora Cooks. It’s excellent.

salt, pepper, paprika, and garlic powder

flour for dredging

cold pressed nut or fruit oil for pan frying, such as avocado oil

1 lb assorted fresh mushrooms

2 large yellow onions

6 cloves garlic, minced

3 tablespoons chicken schmaltz or good olive oil

3 tablespoons flour

1/2 cup dry white wine

4 cups chicken stock (or no-chicken stock)

2-3 teaspoons sweet paprika

a few sprigs of fresh thyme

a small handful of fresh Italian flat-leaf parsley leaves

For the Meatballs

1 pound ground beef, preferably pastured, grass fed

or 1 pound Impossible™ or Beyond™ Ground Beef Substitute

1 egg

1 teaspoon salt

1-2 cloves pressed or minced garlic

¾ cup dry breadcrumbs (plain or seasoned are both fine)

1 cup ice cold water

a few shakes of allspice and ginger from the spice jar

Method:

Prepare the Chicken

  • Wash the chicken parts and pat them dry with paper towels. Then sprinkle them with a little salt, pepper, garlic powder, and paprika. If you’re using kosher chicken, remember that the chicken has been pre-salted, so you’ll need less, or possibly none at all.

  • Dredge the chicken parts in all-purpose flour. In a sauté pan, warm a little oil and fry the chicken pieces over medium-high heat until golden on both sides. You may have to do this in batches. Don’t worry about them being cooked through. They’re going to do a lot more cooking before we’re finished. You just want them to develop a crispy exterior. Then, set the chicken aside. If you’re using seitan chicken, do exactly the same thing.

  • In the same pan, add 3 tablespoons schmaltz or oil. Add the diced onions to the pan and sauté them until they’re soft and translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the mushrooms. Depending upon the size and type of mushrooms, you can leave them whole, cut them into halves or quarters, or slice them. It’s your call. Sprinkle the vegetables lightly with salt and sauté them until the onions and the mushrooms are nicely caramelized.

  • Add the minced garlic and cook, stirring, for another minute.

  • Add the flour to the pan and whisk to combine it with the fat to make a smooth paste. If it seems too dry, add a touch more fat. Cook, stirring, for a few minutes to get rid of the raw flour taste.

  • Pour in the wine and whisk the mixture constantly until it begins to thicken and the wine is reduced by half.

  • Stir in the chicken stock with the giblets, the paprika, and the thyme sprigs. Cook for a minute or two, stirring, until it’s all well combined. Then set the pan with the vegetables and sauce aside. Preheat the oven to 350°.

    Prepare the Meatballs

  • In a medium bowl, combine the ground beef (or ground beef substitute) with all of the meatball ingredients. It may seem like a lot of bread crumbs and a lot of water, but I promise this will produce meatballs that are tender and fluffy. Note: If vegetarian, include the egg; if vegan, simply leave it out.

  • Massage the mixture with your hands until it’s soft and well combined. Use your hands, not a fork.

  • I like to make the meatballs tiny for this dish. Using a ½ inch scoop, scoop up scoopsful of the meat mixture and roll them gently in your hands to form balls. I like to lay them out on a baking sheet until they’re all done. It’s best to roll them with wet hands.

    Prepare the Pan

  • In a large roasting pan, lay out the chicken pieces in a single layer, skin side up. Pour the sauce with all the mushrooms, onions, garlic, and giblets into the pan so that it surrounds the chicken pieces. Arrange the meatballs between the chicken pieces. Try to submerge them in the sauce as much as you can. Don’t worry if they seem to be crowded; it will all be fine in the end. Slide the pan into the oven and let the fricassee braise for about an hour and a half.

  • Serve with egg noodles, rice, or crusty bread to soak up all the yummy sauce.

One of my most beloved dishes from childhood was my paternal grandmother’s Chicken Fricassee.

Now, if you’re familiar with chicken fricassee, you’ll know that it’s a classic French dish consisting of cut-up chicken, first browned in the pan and then braised in a creamy white wine and mushroom sauce.

chicken + cream = not kosher.

The Jewish version of this dish differs quite a lot from the original French recipe. Like so many wonderful dishes, its beginnings are humble; Jewish chicken fricassee started out as peasant food. The chicken in the dish consisted of necks, a few wings, oftentimes chicken feet (which adds collagen and creates a silky sauce), and giblets (not including the livers). Little meatballs were added to the stew, which which were made using stale bread to stretch the meat. The sauce had no cream, of course. Often, this dish was served in small portions as an appetizer for Shabbat or holidays, to be followed by chicken soup, possibly gefilte fish, and then a main course. Today, there are so many versions of Jewish fricassee out there that it’s impossible to trace the origin. Some include tomatoes. Some include bell peppers. Some add white wine to the sauce. Some leave out the meatballs. Most contain paprika.

Both of my grandmothers were good cooks. My mother’s mother was an old-country cook, serving up simple and delicious Ashkenazi Jewish meals.

My father’s mother’s cooking reflected the haut cuisine of the New York in which she’d been born and raised. It wasn’t until I started doing some research, however, that I learned just how creative Grandma’s recipe was.

My Grandma’s chicken fricassee was an all-afternoon affair, served as an entrée with egg noodles, which were there to sop up every delicious drop of gravy. She used wings, thighs, drumsticks, and giblets, which she saved up in the freezer. The bread in the meatballs was less about stretching the meat and more about making them light and fluffy. The best part was the sauce. Her’s was made a tad sweet with the addition of dried apricots and the warm flavors of allspice, ginger. The sweetness of the fruit was offset by a squeeze of lemon juice. Grandma usually served it over egg noodles which were there to sop up every delicious drop of gravy. In my mind, this was the definition of chicken fricassee.

Not too long ago, I managed to dig up her mother’s recipe, written in Yiddish in the 19th century, and I was very surprised to see how much it differed from my grandmother’s.

Here’s what she did: Giblets were put into a pot with diced onions and covered with water. After simmering, covered, for 2 hours, the little meatballs were added. They were made from ground beef, matzo soaked in water, eggs, salt, and pepper and were added to the pot with a spoonful of paprika. The fricassee was then cooked for another hour and a half. Talk about peasant food… But, when my great-grandparents came to America, Great-Grandma bought, owned, and ran a private bank. Her use of only meager ingredients wan’t for financial reasons, she was just making it like her mother had done, in the old country. She was a business woman, not a cook. I don’t know if Grandma’s chicken fricassee came from a recipe she got from someone else, or if she made it up herself, but it was very different from her mother’s. The sauce was in some ways quite similar to the sauce in her stuffed cabbage recipe.

So, armed with everything I now knew about this dish, I set out to create my own recipe. I don’t know much about running a bank, but I do know a little about cooking…

There’s a Cajun version that uses the “trinity,” as Cajuns call it—onions, green peppers, and celery—and dredges the chicken in flour before browning. I decided to adopt the dredge for my own version, because I’m a fan of crispy chicken skin. I decided to veer away from Grandma’s sweet and sour version and base the sauce on white wine, fresh herbs, onions, and lots of garlic. I also went back to the original French recipe and added mushrooms. I used a combination of button, shiitake, and oyster mushrooms, because those were the ones available. You could use any mushrooms you like/can find/can afford. I used avocado oil for browning the ingredients, and, in order to give it that “Jewish taste,” I used chicken schmaltz in the sauce. You can use the healthy oil of your choice instead.

I decided to finish the dish in the oven, in a large oval roasting pan, because I wanted all the chicken to be in one layer, with the skin exposed to remain crispy while the meat braised in the sauce until it was practically falling off the bone.

I’m very pleased with the way it turned out. If only Great-Grandma Sarah Tenenbaum were alive to taste it…!

By now, you might be wondering, how in the word can this dish be made vegan?

I promise, it’s easily done. Just stay the course and follow along …

Please don’t be put off by the long list of ingredients. It’s really quite simple to do if you have everything pulled out before you begin. And don’t worry about the amount of garlic in the recipe. In a slow braise such as this one, the garlicky flavor will mellow quite a lot.