
Chef Graziella
Agrodolce alla Siciliana
The sweet-sour sauce that proves Sicily is where East meets West, where Arab traders left their mark on Italian cooking. A syrup of vinegar and honey, studded with pine nuts and raisins.
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The foundation of Italian cooking, made as it has been made for generations: a whole chicken, honest vegetables, cold water, and three hours of patient simmering. This is where flavor begins.
Before there is risotto, there is brodo. Before there are tortellini swimming in golden liquid on Christmas morning, there is brodo. Before the braised meat, the soup, the sauce that needs body, there is this: a pot, a chicken, a few vegetables, and time.
I do not understand cooks who buy broth in boxes. They are paying for salted water with chicken flavoring. Real brodo has body. When it cools, it should set like gelatin. This comes from the bones, from the collagen that only patient simmering can extract. You cannot rush it. You cannot cheat it. The chicken gives what it will give, and it takes three hours to give it.
The vegetables here are what Italians call odori, the aromatics that perfume the broth without overwhelming it. Carrot for sweetness. Celery for depth. Onion for backbone. The parsley stems go in because they have more flavor than the leaves, which turn bitter when cooked too long. What you keep out matters: no garlic, no tomato, no strong herbs. This broth should taste of chicken first, last, and always.
Brodo has sustained Italian families since the Middle Ages, when boiling tough old hens was the only way to extract nourishment from them. In Emilia-Romagna, where I grew up, no Christmas or New Year passed without tortellini in brodo, the filled pasta floating in liquid gold. The broth was the gift; the pasta was merely its vehicle.
Quantity
1 (about 4 pounds)
Quantity
2 medium
scrubbed and halved crosswise
Quantity
2
halved crosswise
Quantity
1 medium
halved, skin on
Quantity
1 small bunch (about 10 stems)
Quantity
1
Quantity
8 whole
Quantity
4 quarts
Quantity
to taste
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| whole chicken | 1 (about 4 pounds) |
| carrotsscrubbed and halved crosswise | 2 medium |
| celery stalks with leaveshalved crosswise | 2 |
| yellow onionhalved, skin on | 1 medium |
| flat-leaf parsley stems | 1 small bunch (about 10 stems) |
| bay leaf | 1 |
| black peppercorns | 8 whole |
| cold water | 4 quarts |
| kosher salt | to taste |
Remove any giblets from the chicken cavity. Rinse the bird briefly under cold water and place it breast-side down in a heavy stockpot. The chicken goes in whole. Do not cut it up. The bones release their gelatin slowly, and the meat stays tender enough to use afterward.
Pour the cold water over the chicken. The water must be cold. This is not negotiable. Hot water seals the surface and traps impurities inside. Cold water extracts flavor and gelatin gradually as the temperature rises. The chicken should be covered by at least two inches of water.
Set the pot over medium heat and bring the water to a simmer slowly. This should take 30 to 40 minutes. Watch the pot. As it heats, grayish foam will rise to the surface. Skim this scum away with a large spoon or small ladle. You will skim several times in the first hour. This is the price of clear broth.
Once the broth reaches a simmer, reduce the heat to low. The surface should barely move, with only an occasional bubble breaking through. Never let it boil. Boiling churns fat into the liquid and makes the broth cloudy and greasy. A lazy simmer extracts flavor while keeping the broth clean.
After 30 minutes of simmering, add the carrots, celery, onion halves, parsley stems, bay leaf, and peppercorns. Do not add salt yet. Salt at the end, when you know the final concentration. The vegetables go in late because they would turn to mush over three hours. They need only the last two and a half hours to give their flavor.
Continue simmering at the laziest bubble for a total of three hours from when you first reached a simmer. Skim occasionally if more foam rises. Do not stir. Stirring disturbs the fat and clouds the broth. Leave it alone. The broth will turn golden as it cooks, and the kitchen will smell of everything good.
Remove the pot from heat. Lift out the chicken carefully with two large spoons or tongs and set it aside. If you want to use the meat, let it cool until you can handle it. Strain the broth through a fine-mesh sieve lined with cheesecloth into a clean pot or large bowl. Do not press on the solids. Let gravity do the work. Pressing releases cloudy particles.
Let the strained broth settle for 10 minutes, then skim the fat from the surface with a ladle. For the clearest broth, refrigerate overnight and lift off the solidified fat in the morning. Season with salt only now, tasting as you go. The broth should taste of chicken, round and full, with the vegetables as background notes. It is ready to use.
1 serving (about 240g)
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