The Sparkle of Poultry

Sunday Project #3

About four months ago, ground chicken swept me off my feet. I know that I professed my love for Meyer lemons a mere twenty-four hours ago, but here's the thing. I've had so many incredible ground chicken dishes in Thai restaurants, and so I've had time to form quite a friendship with this seemingly awkward thing, this one meat that seems like it really shouldn't be ground up, ever. It was only recently that I came to realize that I, too, can be a ground-chicken master. Okay, so not a master, but a, um, cook. When I started the quest for the meat, I quickly learned that it's not really all that common at most butcher shops. One butcher always had the ground chicken, but it was always living in his freezer. Another butcher had it but it was strangely expensive -- $12 a pound or something absurd like that. Yet another butcher had it but usually in very small quantities. Okay, so you are now thinking what I was thinking, which is What on earth is wrong with the butchers in this city? But after a fair amount of stumbling along on a rough and rocky path to poultry freedom, I found what I was looking for.

Let me back up a second and say that, no, I don't grind my own meat at home. Do a lot of people actually grind their own meat? Isn't that what a butcher is for? Maybe I'm missing out, what with the sausage endeavor and all. A meat grinder is one of those things that I never actually thought about owning, but these days, every once in a while, I'll think about how it might be exciting to pulverize some meat pieces, maybe even some combinations of meat pieces...in fact, I do believe there was a meat grinder in my house when I was growing up. Mom and Dad, correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't there some ham salad grinding going on? Was the grinder purely a figment of my over-cooked little brain? This whole ham grinding bit is especially full-circle-ish, considering that, after the whole egg salad episode the other day, my mom and I ended up talking about the ham salad shenanigans that went on in the days of yore. (I was afraid of ham salad. This could be because I never actually tried it. Hm.)

So I don't grind, and I guess most butchers don't grind on command, either, I've learned. This means that I seek the ground meat, and, naturally, I've found it to always be readily available from my charming friends over at Gene's Sausage Shop (what don't these folks have?, one might ask). I take myself down there, then, and I gather up my chicken, and then usually, accidentally, end up with a basket full of other meat packages. I tend to order lots of ground meats, which is maybe odd -- I just am fascinated by their versatility lately. Or maybe ground meats are for lazy people? Well, anyway, I happily and blindly gather my meats and off I go.

When I get home, I race to the pans and make this dish. It's called Emerald Chicken, not because I am clever and gave it that creative, Wizard of Oz-sounding name, but because it's sort of a take on this delicious and addictive dish at our local Thai spot, which is called Emerald Chicken. Theirs is still the best, still the original, but I am just a mere mortal, after all, and I simply want to make delicious, saucy things. Even if it means stealing their idea and, in effect, their identity.
This is just what happens, though, when you are a restaurant with scrumptious foods. People steal. Those people are me.

Emerald Chicken
my made-up version of a heavenly dish, adapted from Siam Pasta, a Thai restaurant with sort of a funny name, really great food, and really, really nice delivery guys

2 pounds ground chicken
6 T dark sweet soy sauce (you can also use regular soy sauce, but mix it with 2 T brown sugar)
6 T oyster sauce
2 T fish sauce
1 t ground white pepper
2 T rice vinegar
2 C vegetable or chicken broth (stock also works well)
4 cloves of garlic, minced or crushed
red pepper flakes, Sriracha, or any chili pepper sauce that you like
salt and pepper
4 scallions, sliced thinly
1 pound of thin, French-style green beans, cut or snapped into inch-long pieces (use frozen if it's winter, fresh if it's not)
ground peanuts
chopped cilantro
crunchy rice stick noodles or chow mein noodles

Heat a big, deep skillet, dutch oven, or wok to medium high heat and add a tablespoon or two of cooking oil or olive oil. Heat the oil briefly, then add the ground chicken. Use a metal spatula or other forceful tool to break up the chicken as it cooks. Your objective is to get it to look crumbly by the time it's done cooking, so keep that as your goal. As you go, season the chicken with salt, black pepper, and white pepper.

Once the chicken is cooked through and there are no more pink bits, it'll start sticking to your pan. This is a good time to add the broth (or stock), garlic, and scallions. Stir it around, scraping up the pieces from the bottom. Then just keep an eye on it. When about 1/3 of the liquid has evaporated, add the soy sauce, fish sauce, oyster sauce, and hot sauce. Cook, stirring, for about 30 seconds, or until the delectable smells start to waft out of your pan. Add the green beans and cook just a little bit more. You want the green beans to stay crisp and snappy, so don't cook the hell out of them. Their crunch will pair well with the nice, soft chicken. There should be a fair amount of sauce in the bottom of your pan. This sauce is a good, good thing. If it seems like you don't have enough sauce, feel free to add more broth or stock.

Now, what I want you to do next is taste the sauce. It should be a little salty, a little sweet, a little acidic, and a little sour. And it will be garlicky, most likely. This is the part where you get to make Executive Decisions about your chicken. You can add anything you need to at this point -- more soy sauce, more oyster sauce, more heat. You want to definitely taste a little bit of sweetness in it, so you may want to add a little bit of table sugar, or you could mix some more brown sugar into a little soy sauce or broth and add that. Feel the spirit! Make your Emerald Chicken work for you.

Serve with brown or white rice. Top with the cilantro, ground peanuts, crispy noodles, a few scallion bits, and a squeeze or two of lime.

You can also make this with other vegetables, green in color or not.

Off you go, now. Find yourself a yellow brick road and get thee to a butchery. It's Emerald Chicken time!