Chicken Paprikash

This post is about what happened to my chicken, what to do with a whole chicken, and of course a recipe for Chicken Paprikash. After what felt like an eternity of bleeding, hacking, dying, and disemboweling, we were finally ready to cook. I had considered freezing all the meat to give myself a little time to absorb and forget all the slaughter, but how many times in life does a girl like me get to taste fresh chicken? And how many times will I have a Hungarian in my kitchen offering to show me firsthand how to make Chicken Paprikash? I'm guessing only once. Here is a picture of what we were left with. 

I know, I know. Me too. Yikes. You can imagine how I felt. But you will notice how red all the meat looks. The breast meat looks like dark meat. Everything had been rubbed down with salt and rinsed multiple times. The stomach had been cleaned out and then kissed (literally) to show that it was perfectly safe now. Into one bowl went the skin, the wing tips, the head, the back, etc, for making a soup. Into another bowl went all the pieces destined for the Chicken Paprikash. I lobbied for the feet to go toward the soup, but was overruled. Apparently feet are incredibly sweet. Same for the comb and the testicles. 

There was a comic strip a few years back that shows a hen feeding her sick rooster chicken soup. "It's supposed to be good for you," she tells him. "And don't worry, it's no one we know." It's become something of a family joke, and it was a little difficult to eat someone we knew. 

But the flavor was so much better than any chicken I have ever eaten before. It was a little tougher, but I don't think that meat should have the same texture as butter anyway. I must have had three helpings, and I sat there staring at the foot, thinking that if that was the best part, I was really missing out. So if you ever have the opportunity to try fresh meat like this, take it. 

Ingredients:
1 chicken cut in pieces with most of the skin and fat removed
3 tablespoons of Hungarian paprika
olive oil
1 onion, minced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon salt
fresh ground pepper
1/3 cup red wine
3 tablespoons flour
1/2 cup water
1/2-1 cup sour cream

Directions:
In a large frying pan or sauté pan, fry the onion and garlic in olive oil. Add an entire tablespoon of salt. (My friend did not measure, he actually threw in a large handful of salt, but I'm guessing it was at least a tablespoon.) 

Get a pot of water ready for the pasta, but wait to cook it until you chicken is done since that will take a lot longer than the pasta. 

Add the paprika. (Again, my friend didn't measure, but it looked like at least three tablespoons.) Stir it to mix it in well, and then add the chicken to the pan. Add the wine. Stir that as well to coat it in the onion sauce, and grind fresh pepper over it. 

Bring it all to a boil, turn it down to a simmer, and leave the lid on but open just a little to allow the steam to escape. Check the chicken every now and then and add water if needed so it doesn't burn. It takes quite a while to cook through, probably 45 minutes to an hour, so be patient. You can serve it just like that when it is cooked through if you like. 

In a jar, mix together the sour cream, flour, and water. Shake it all up to create a slurry and then pour it into the pan. Stir it up well and turn the heat up just a little to allow it to thicken. 

You are done. Serve it with shell pasta. I tossed the pasta with a little butter to keep it from sticking. 

Soup for the rest of the chicken...

I don't have all the pictures of this one, but I wanted to keep a record of it here anyway. Take all the rest of the chicken bits that seem a little exotic or unusable, like some of the skin, the head, back, etc, and put them in a stock pot. Add one unpeeled onion and fill it with water. Add about a tablespoon of salt, though you will need more later. Bring this to a boil and let it simmer for about an hour. Then add two peeled potatoes, two peeled carrots, a little broccoli, and a parsnip if you have it. When the vegetables are cooked through, remove them. Boil one pound of angel hair pasta, drain it, and toss it with a little of the broth so it doesn't all stick together. Season the broth and serve it with the vegetables and pasta in separate dishes.