chicken omelet, compound butter

Omelette de poulet, très chic. Egg curd heated up over moderate heat in the compound butter prepared for insertion under the skin of the turkey and chicken shown in that earlier comparison post down there ↓ . No sauce, except for more of the melted compound butter and a squirt of lemon. The lemon was just sitting there so I thought, "you know, I could use you," made all the difference.

Technique: Gently blend two large or three ordinary eggs into a bowl and break the yolks into the whites with a fork. Do not over beat them, do not homogenize the mixture. Prepare the filling if you intend one. Grate the cheese, fry the sausage, mushrooms, whatever. Arrange these ingredients mise en place along with the bowl of beaten egg. Also have a plate ready. Over moderate heat, and by moderate I mean low, allow the butter to melt until it foams. Dump the egg mixture all at once. If the eggs were refrigerated, and being American eggs they probably were refrigerated, they'll cool down the pan even more on contact. Stand there and observe the eggs begin to set. Using a fork, gently push the set curd from the edges toward the center of the pan and allow liquid egg to run into the vacated space. Tilt the pan if necessary, or give the liquid an encouraging nudge with the fork. Work around the edges of the pan like the face of a clock or perhaps a compass. In this manner, build up the bulk of the curd in the center of the pan leaving the edges flat. See what you're doing here? Fluff fluff fluff, that's what you're doing. As you notice the curd NEARLY fully set, BUT NOT YET FULLY SET, remove the pan from the heat and add a small amount of cheese or herb, or whatever you intend for the center. (The original omelets have no filling but we're Americans here I'm supposing and we do as we please, and if empty omelets are proper then I don't want to be right). This whole process should take no longer than two minutes. Use a flexible spatula to loosen the edges from the pan, tilting the pan, tap the whole thing toward the edge and roll it onto a plate. Tidy up the edges, tuck them in to make it appear as if you knew what you were doing. There's another technique over high heat that is furious and fast, which involves violently shaking the pan to jolt the curd in the desired direction, but that is so immature et très déclassé.

I have noticed my sauces becoming more and more simple and also thinner. I do not have an explanation for this development except possibly maturité! This sauce, herbed butter and lemon, is positively perfect for the thing it is dressing, and I hereby declare that I shall henceforth use this forevermore. Or at least keep it in mind.

The pan shown is 1/2 turkey and 1/2 chicken pulled from the finished birds the previous night and resting in its own fatty liquid, now congealed, in the hope of salvaging the turkey which is rather dry. Ok, it's possibly 2/3 turkey and 1/3 chicken but I don't really know for sure, I didn't weigh it. OK, FINE! Let's say, 3/5 turkey and 2/5 chicken. What do I, look like a Math major over here?

Turkey, chicken

Modest, in'nit?

Every time I cook a turkey I think, "If the idea is to cook a big bird, why don't you just cook an ostrich, you loon, or an emu or California condor? Why hold back? Why not go all Flinstone and cook a pterodactyl since size seems to be the whole point. I mean honestly, it's ridiculous. Then I have this gigantic carcass and bird bits to deal with. I'd rather cook a bunch of chickens instead. More manageable, more fun.

Two things: Brining and compound butter placed under the skin. Kitchen gloves. You really do not want raw chicken subcutaneous fat shoved under your fingernails. The very thought gives me the creeps.

Let's get some good birds while we're at it. It is a holiday, after all. Some worm eat'n, seed peck'n, no steroid have'n or antibiotic take'n, walk around a little bit and exercise do'n, get'n down in the farmhouse birds. At least that's how I'm imagining it.

Chickens are fundamentally radical. As pets, they're actually rather horrible. Once they discover how fantastic eggs are, there's no stopping them going after each others' eggs. At that point the only thing left to do other than segregate and confine them is slaughter them.

Oh! Oh! Oh! I just found a new thing online that I'm going to try a little later. A place in the US where they're raising the rouge label birds from France. You know how seriously they take these things over there. They totally put us to shame with their obsession for quality, generally speaking of course, sometimes they slum it too. Here it is, Joyce Foods. I think I'll go for the Poulet Rouge Fermier because I prefer slightly older birds for roasting --- more flavor IMO. I can't wait to try this. What am I waiting for? Uh. I do not know. I suppose I'm waiting to finish eating these things here.

Finished Diestel turkey Finished Bell & Evans chicken 3.5 LBS I did a terrible job pushing the butter around under the skin. I'm not at all good at that. I tend to just leave it in lumps. Maybe softer butter is the way to go. You're supposed to get at the legs too but my fingers break through the skin. I'm a klutz.

Diestel turkey. Quite small for a turkey, 8.8 LBS.

Bell & Evans chicken 3.5 LBS.

Brining liquid started on stove to dissolve the salt and sugar. 1 cup salt, 1/2 cup sugar, peppercorns, fennel seed, hey, it's what I had. Supplemented with ice and water to cover birds. Covered, put out on the balcony.

Brining turkey and chicken in a bucket.

Butter and herbs. Sage, chive, rosemary (because who doesn't want the woodsy flavor of pine tree to go with their turkey and chicken? Euell Gibbons approves), thyme.

Compound butter

Birds in baking bags (I just cleaned the oven and I don't have casseroles large enough for both birds. Because the turkey is small for a turkey, I could fit both in the same bag, after sealing the bag it occurred to me they'd cook at different times. Duh. So I opened it up and put the chicken in its own bag. These bags are almost as good as my favorite clear casserole dishes, which through a series of inept moves resulted in my no longer owning them, but at one time I had four and I did use all four at once to cook chickens simultaneously. I like them because you could see what was going on and they were like little ovens within the oven. These bags come close to that. But I do yearn for those halcyon days of yore when I had four clear casserole dishes, and I just may step out to the dollar store and rectify this situation.

Result: The chicken was a lot better than the turkey. No contest. The brining worked much better on the chicken. There was more meat by weight on the turkey, obviously, but it was altogether a weaker bird than the chicken. In fact, the chicken came darn close to having as much meat. Pulling them both apart, one right after the other, I much prefer the chicken. This proves to me once again that turkeys are little more than a cruel hoax perpetrated upon an unsuspecting public and the animal kingdom. If cost means anything, I could have bought three excellent chickens for what I paid for one scrawny supposedly up-scale turkey. (My housekeeper said she bought a much heavier turkey for less than I paid for the chicken, but she wasn't doing an experiment). The turkey meat pictured plated above (first photo) was overcooked, dry and unpleasant to eat. Bleh. I erred. Although twice as large as the chicken, I should not have cooked it longer. The chicken meat was perfect, plump, and delicious. I'm soaking the pulled meat of both in the oily liquid released by the birds during cooking in the hope the turkey meat can reabsorb some of it and possibly be salvaged. I would be ashamed to serve the turkey to guests, but well-pleased to serve the chicken. Conclusion: upscale turkeys are not what they're cracked up to be. Forget about them. If you simply must cook a giant bird, get one on sale, and forget about all that other what-white-people-like crap. Even brining and compound butter cannot elevate them. That has been my experience, anyway. Also, I'm not going to do this again until I get a decent roaster that completely encloses the bird, one to fit a turkey and possibly two or three chickens at once. But now for the good part, what I'm really in this for is to render the carcass to stock. That should make this all worth while.