Man Bread

A while back we were passing through our local market one Sunday morning, trying desperately not to eat everything in sight. There was a woman promoting her new book and handing out recipe cards, which Poppy needed to have.

The card got filed in with the shopping. When we got home it got removed from the market bag, a little damp from something or other. I put the card in a catch everything basket on the counter. It stayed there for a couple weeks. Then, in a flurry of tidying up, it got put in a drawer.

I remembered the card and started a little search for it which turned into a frustrating and exhaustive tidy up and sort out of the drawer. There it was, finally, nestled between some cookie cutters and cupcake wrappers right up against the last six weeks worth of supermarket receipts and an empty package of throat lozenges.

It was a recipe aimed at men to promote a book aimed at men, insinuating that men need to eat different things than women, or at least cook different things. I am not sure. Regardless, it looked like this recipe could turn out well so Tilly and I made it.

The whole time, I thought about the man recipe thing and my thoughts turned to this. I realized that, at our house, the man drawer is mine. It is in the kitchen, it isn’t full of lightbulbs and batteries. It is full of piping tips that haven’t made it back into the case, clips and closures, thread and pens, chokey bits of toy hastily hidden from a curious baby and lots of random notes, recipes and clippings and it is full to spilling out. The kind of spilling out that takes a hip to shut it while you smooth the top layer down while carefully trying to extract your hands before you scrape your knuckles.

The man area at our house is very well ordered. Sure, there are some useless bits of junk and some empty wrappers but it is all tucked away in a quite carefully organised corner of the basement, so far from the bottom of the stairs that I only venture down there in the direst of cases. Safe from the clutter and mess of the rest of the house. A dark and peaceful little haven.

So, I did what I do and we made this man recipe an little trickier, if sautéing onions is tricky. And, I lightened it up using a lighter beer than it called for - the original called for a stout and I used Stone Levitation Ale, a hoppy little local number. I foofooed it up with the tiniest bit of oregano, dried because I can’t stomach fresh in any quantity. If my children weren’t eating it, I would have chucked it full of something spicy too.

The result was a loaf worth accompanying even the ladiest of winter pots. It is quick enough to make after a day out to go with whatever has been in your slow cooker all day. It is tasty enough to want to make more than once. It is really gorgeous toasted and would be pretty damn fine with some eggs and mushrooms.

Technically, it isn’t Man Bread, it is Anybody Bread. Unfortunately, this means you’ll have more competition getting a slice.

Cheddar Onion Beer Bread adapted from a recipe by Susan C. Russo

3 cups all purpose flour

1 tablespoon baking powder

1 teaspoon salt

1 1/2 tablespoons sugar

1 cup grated cheddar cheese, I used a 2 year old number

1 cup sautéed onions, cooled

A few grinds of fresh ground black pepper

1/4 teaspoon dried oregano

12 ounce (350 mL) flavourful ale of your choice

Preheat oven to 400ºF. Butter an 8-inch x 4-inch loaf pan.

Mix dry ingredients together in a large bowl. Stir in cheese. Stir in onions.

Pour beer in and mix all ingredients until combined.

Pour into prepared tin.

Bake for around 40 minutes. When a tester comes out clean, it is done.

Cool for a few minutes before slicing.

Enjoy.

That Can Goes Where?

As you may or may not know, I spent about twelve years spending very little time in North America. So, I don’t know if I missed the Beer Can Chicken fad or whether it is something saved for tailgate parties or frat parties or other stereotypically ‘male-bonding’ type events. I know that ever since the first time I heard of it, I have been curious and it was, sooner or later, going to make its way to our barbecue (or the barbecue of the vacation apartment complex).

Stephen was not nearly as excited as I expected he would be. He was curious about impaling a chicken on a beer can and wondered whether the beer would be wasted or whether he could drink it afterwards. He tried and doesn’t recommend it but has decided the beer wasn’t entirely wasted and that the chicken was very delicious, crispy skinned and moist.

He, of course, deserves all the credit as he put the chickens on the barbecue and he stood nearby during the cooking process. And, to be fair, he and Matt, his trusty deckhand, did rescue one of the birds from sure incineration with their bare hands. This was before we, Janine, Stephen’s trusty chef, and I, decided it was probably going to be necessary to line the grill with some foil lest we waste more beer in dousing the flames.

This all felt very Friday Night Lights, football party-esque. The local varsity team was playing at home and the town was a flutter of excitement and spirit. In the midst of all that energy, a big barbecue just seemed like a good thing.

There are about a gazillion recipes online for this and I read about half of them. I think this grew from what seemed like the best/most commonly used/most practical of them all. 

The rub was really simple and I didn’t measure any of it exactly. I used a mixture of grainy mustard, black pepper, salt, dried coriander, fresh thyme and oregano and a little bit of olive oil. I smeared it all over the two chickens, inside and out and left them to marinade for about six hours in the fridge.

The next hardest part was emptying the two beer cans to half full. Luckily, Stephen and Matt got back from cycling home from work and set about the onerous task. I didn’t get fancy for this first attempt and used Heineken. I think that this is where Beer Can Chicken could get a bit more exciting but more about that later.

That accomplished, everyone crowded around while I made Stephen stick the half empty beer cans in the chickens' rear ends. He was actually very surprised by how easily the cans fit. 

I had preheated the barbecue and decided that keeping it cooking at chicken roasting temperature, 325ºF, seemed like a pretty sensible thing to do. That is easier said than done but, aside from a couple, ‘Is that chicken on fire again?,’ moments, it stayed spot on.

I thought it would be trickier to remove a chicken sitting atop a bubbling and steaming can of beer from the barbecue but with something as simple as a metal spatula and a carving fork it was a breeze. I would recommend having a place to go and a clear route there before getting on your way.

I carved these around the can, removing the can when it was easily accessible instead or trying to wrestle it and its boiling contents out of the chicken’s sizzling hot bottom. This worked better than I expected and the can can (it was going to happen sooner or later) easily be removed with a dry towel.

I used very simple flavours with this but I can’t help but thinking how fun it could be. You could do a Japanese inspired marinade and use Sapporo or a citrusy marinade and use Hoegarden or any of your favourite microbrews and something that would go really nicely. Just empty out any beer can and half fill it with whatever beer you fancy.

I will warn you that the chicken did not taste of beer but it was definitely a whole heck of a lot more moist than any barbecued chicken I have ever had and you could smell it and that, I think, definitely has its influence.

Beer Can Chicken

1 - 4 1/2 pound chicken

Grainy mustard

Black pepper

Salt

Dried coriander

Fresh thyme

Fresh oregano 

Olive oil

(Or the marinade or rub of your choice)

1 can of beer half full

Mix some mustard, pepper, salt, coriander, thyme and oregano with a couple tablespoons of olive oil and rub all over, inside and out, your chicken. Let the chicken marinade in the fridge for 4-6 hours.

Preheat the barbecue to about 325ºF, if you have a thermometer, or about medium heat.

Slide the can of beer into your chicken’s behind.

Line the grill with some foil and turn the edges of the foil up to trap the juices and prevent flare ups.

Carefully your chicken on the beer can onto the barbecue.

Close the lid and cook, checking occasionally but not too often, for about one and a half hours, or until the juices from the thickest part of the leg are running clear.

Remove from the grill with metal spatula under the can and a carving fork to steady the bird onto a carving plate or, in our case, roasting tin.

Carefully carve the chicken, upright, and remove the can with a dry towel when you can.  The beer is HOT!

Enjoy.