MLK Day weekend, which in our house has always been a cooking weekend. I do not know how this started — maybe because the weather is usually too cold to do anything outdoors and the smoker is too cold to run efficiently, which means the cooking moves inside, which means slow braises and soups and things that take all day on the stove. I made a venison roast Saturday. Shoulder roast, which is not as tender as the backstrap but has more collagen, more fat running through the muscle, more to offer when you cook it low and long in braising liquid. I rubbed it with my standard rub — salt, pepper, garlic, sumac — and seared it hard in the Dutch oven, then deglazed with a little beer, added dried chiles and dried corn and a tied bundle of thyme and bay leaf, and put the whole thing in a 275-degree oven for five hours.
The result was a shoulder that pulled apart at a touch, the braising liquid reduced to a dark, rich sauce that tasted like venison and chile and smoke. I shredded the meat back into the sauce and served it over fried hominy patties — mashed hominy shaped into cakes and pan-fried until they had a crust — which is something Hannah has been teaching in her workshops as a traditional preparation and which I had not made before and should have. The combination was exactly right. The soft, rich meat over the crispy hominy with the sauce pooling around it. That is the kind of dinner you eat in silence because talking would interrupt something.
Hannah looked at the plate and then at me and said, "You are getting this right." She meant the venison, I think, but maybe also the hominy preparation, maybe also the general project of cooking the food that belongs to who we are. I said thank you. She said she meant it. I know she did.
Danny called Sunday to check in. Terry had made him try a new blood pressure medication and the adjustment was making him feel strange — dizzy when he stood, foggy in the afternoons. The doctor said this was normal and would pass. I talked to him for forty-five minutes. He seemed glad to have someone to talk to. I told him about the venison roast and the hominy cakes and he said it sounded good and asked if I had saved him any. I had not, I said. He said bring it next time I made it. I said I would. I am going to make it again next week and bring him a plate.
I am going to make the venison again for Danny, but in the meantime this is the recipe I keep coming back to when I want that same feeling — something seared hard and then left alone to become something better. Creamy chicken paprika is not venison shoulder, but it moves the same way: the long braise, the sauce that darkens and deepens, the moment when you lift the lid and the smell tells you it is ready before you even look. Hannah has been after me to write this one down for a long time. Consider it written.
Creamy Chicken Paprika
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 50 min | Total Time: 1 hr 5 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 2 1/2 lbs bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs (about 4–6 pieces)
- 1 1/2 tsp kosher salt, plus more to taste
- 3/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper
- 2 tbsp neutral oil or rendered chicken fat
- 1 large yellow onion, thinly sliced
- 4 cloves garlic, minced
- 2 tbsp sweet Hungarian paprika
- 1/2 tsp smoked paprika
- 1 tbsp tomato paste
- 1 cup chicken broth, low sodium
- 1/2 cup dry white wine or additional broth
- 1 cup full-fat sour cream, room temperature
- 2 tsp all-purpose flour
- 2 tbsp unsalted butter
- Fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped, for serving
Instructions
- Season and dry the chicken. Pat chicken thighs completely dry with paper towels. Season all over with salt and pepper. Drying the skin is not optional — it is what lets you get a real sear.
- Sear skin-side down. Heat oil in a Dutch oven or heavy-bottomed braising pan over medium-high heat until shimmering. Place chicken skin-side down and do not move it for 6–8 minutes, until the skin is deep golden and releases easily from the pan. Flip and sear the second side for 3 minutes. Transfer to a plate and set aside. Pour off all but about 1 tablespoon of fat from the pan.
- Build the base. Reduce heat to medium. Add sliced onion to the pan with a pinch of salt. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 8–10 minutes until softened and beginning to color at the edges. Add garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
- Bloom the paprika. Push the onions to one side and add tomato paste to the cleared space. Cook the paste, stirring it against the pan bottom, for about 90 seconds until it darkens slightly. Add sweet paprika and smoked paprika directly onto the paste and stir everything together. Cook 30 seconds — this step matters; raw paprika tastes flat, bloomed paprika does not.
- Deglaze and braise. Pour in white wine and scrape up any browned bits from the bottom of the pan. Add chicken broth and stir to combine. Nestle the seared chicken thighs back into the pan, skin-side up, so the skin stays above the liquid. Bring to a gentle simmer, reduce heat to low, cover, and cook for 35 minutes until the chicken is fully cooked through and beginning to pull away from the bone.
- Finish the sauce. Transfer chicken pieces to a plate. In a small bowl, whisk flour into the room-temperature sour cream until smooth — tempering it this way prevents curdling. Stir butter into the braising liquid until melted, then add the sour cream mixture a spoonful at a time, stirring constantly over low heat. Do not let the sauce boil after the sour cream goes in. Taste and adjust salt.
- Return and serve. Return chicken to the pan, spoon sauce over the top, and let it rest in the sauce off heat for 5 minutes. Serve over egg noodles, mashed potatoes, or fried hominy cakes if you have been paying attention. Finish with chopped parsley.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 430 | Protein: 36g | Fat: 27g | Carbs: 9g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 590mg