Do poppy seeds even have a flavor of their own?

Nice combo.

The main course was another quickie internet meal thingy.  The recipe commanded the boiling of the chicken, plus some chopping of said chicken, plus cream of chicken soup, plus sour cream, plus poppy seeds.  And Ritz Crackers on top.  To hell with them. (Not the Ritz people, the recipe creators/distributors.)

Boiled chicken is crap.  You must brown it in oil for the flavor.  I don’t boil chicken.  Also, seasoning.  I threw in some garlic powder, as I am wont to do in most dishes.  And some black pepper.  I figured the cream of chicken soup had enough salt in it that I didn’t need to add any more.  Then they want you to drizzle melted butter over the whole thing before you bake at 350.  Melting butter is an extra step I didn’t want to mess with tonight, so I drizzled EVOO.  Good.

I also don’t boil or steam green beans.  I sautee them in olive oil.  With a spice blend that includes salt, pepper, garlic powder, etc.

And finally, the chicken dish was served over rice.  Good brown rice would be the ideal, but microwave-in-bag quick rice does the trick when you’re trying to simplify and speed things up.

Warning: Might prompt musings on the Allegory of the Cave.

The beer was something I suspected would go well with a wide variety of foods, Ommegang Three Philosphers, a Belgian-style quadrupel blended with a little cherry lambic.  The lambic used is Lindemans Kriek (those of the doubted purity among lambic enthusiasts). A fact I learned while conversing with the estimable Rob Nelson, Southeast Regional Manager for Merchant du Vin, the company that imports Lindemans products to the U.S.  While I’m not a fan of Lindemans fruit lambics straight up, the subtle contribution of their Kriek to the Ommegang quadrupel makes for a world class beer.

Rob, by the way, is a walking encyclopedia of beer, especially with regard to the products MDV imports.  He typically shows up for the Magic City Brewfest to talk up his beers and it is well worth your time to stop by and shoot the breeze for a while.  You’ll be amazed at what you’ll learn about beer.

Back to the pairing.  Just a nice combo.  Some savory, very minimally sour notes from the chicken casserole, a little garlic here and there, and some spicy, phenolic pop from the beer with just a little sweetness from the hint of Kriek.  The flavors bounced off one another in a complimentary way.  I suspect there are greater pairings in store for Three Philosphers, but this was a nice meal, and not too much effort.

This was better than what you ate last night.

Magnificent.

Today I found myself in the mood for an old standby.  I don’t recall where I first saw the recipe, but now I make it from the hip.  The essentials:

Chicken
Artichoke hearts
Tomatoes
Red Onions
Feta Cheese
Pasta

Sauté the chicken (cut into small pieces) with the onion (chopped) in butter.  Meanwhile, start boiling your pasta.  I’ve used penne in the past; today I felt like bowtie.  Ideally, throw some fresh minced garlic into the pan before the chicken and onions are thoroughly cooked.  This time around I forgot, so I added some garlic powder later in the process — not quite as good but you need a little garlic flavor in there somehow.  Then toss in the artichoke hearts and tomatoes and sprinkle with some oregano and let that heat through while the pasta finishes up.

Drain the pasta, add to the chicken mixture, and cut the heat.  Then squeeze some lemon juice over it all, pour in a little olive oil, stir thoroughly, and serve with plenty of crumbled feta on top.  Yummmm.

Before I started cooking this evening I paused to consider what beer should go in the fridge to accompany this, and I settled on Ommegang’s Ommegeddon because it’s a funky, earthy brew fermented with Brettanomyces. I suspected it would go well with the funk and earthiness of the feta and artichokes.  I was right.

Without going into excruciating detail, most beers are brewed with various strains of Saccharomyces cerevisiae.  All ales and lagers are fermented with one of many strains of Saccharomyces.  But Brett is different.  Beers fermented with Brett don’t fit into a convenient category.  They are earthy, funky, and sometimes sour.  It’s a whole different world from your typical pale ales, pilsners, or stouts.

This was a match made in heaven.  Neither the food nor the beer overpower the other; they just dance on your palate in remarkable complexity.  No off flavors, no clashes, just perfect harmony.  I wasn’t at all certain of what I was doing here, but it was an educated guess that turned out brilliant.

I suspect any Brett-fermented beer would work well with this dish, and there’s a surprising variety of them out there.