
Chef Thomas
Beef and Ale Stew
Braising steak surrendered to dark ale and slow time, with onions and mushrooms, until the gravy turns thick and malty and the kitchen smells like the kind of evening you want to stay in for.
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Created by Chef Thomas
Chicken thighs braised with leeks and mushrooms in a gentle, creamy sauce scented with thyme and mustard. The kind of dish that makes an ordinary weeknight feel like it was worth coming home for.
The leeks at the market last Saturday were fat and heavy, mud still clinging to the roots. The kind you have to peel back a layer or two to get to the clean, pale heart. I bought four, which was too many for one person, but I knew what I was going to do with them before I'd paid.
This is an autumn casserole, really, or early winter. It needs the weather to have turned. It needs the kind of evening where you close the curtains before six and the kitchen becomes the warmest room in the house. Chicken thighs, because they forgive a bit of time in the oven and reward you with flavour that breast meat simply can't match. Leeks, because when they're braised slowly they go from something sturdy to something almost silky. Mushrooms for earthiness. Cream because it pulls the whole thing together into a sauce you'll want to eat with a spoon.
Wales claims the leek, but every kitchen in Britain has claimed this dish. Fair enough. It belongs wherever someone is standing at the stove on a cold Tuesday, making something quiet and good for the people at the table. We're only making dinner. But dinner, made properly, made with care, is no small thing.
I wrote it down in the notebook last week. Chicken, leeks, cream, thyme. Rain against the window. Enough.
Quantity
6-8
Quantity
3 large
trimmed and sliced into thick rounds
Quantity
250g
halved or quartered depending on size
Quantity
2 cloves
sliced thinly
Quantity
a generous knob
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
150ml
Quantity
300ml
Quantity
150ml
Quantity
a few sprigs
Quantity
1
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
small handful
roughly chopped
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs | 6-8 |
| leekstrimmed and sliced into thick rounds | 3 large |
| chestnut mushroomshalved or quartered depending on size | 250g |
| garlicsliced thinly | 2 cloves |
| butter | a generous knob |
| olive oil | 1 tablespoon |
| dry white wine | 150ml |
| chicken stock | 300ml |
| double cream | 150ml |
| thyme | a few sprigs |
| bay leaf | 1 |
| Dijon mustard | 1 tablespoon |
| fine sea salt | to taste |
| black pepper | to taste |
| flat-leaf parsley (optional)roughly chopped | small handful |
Season the chicken thighs generously with salt and pepper. Get a wide, heavy casserole dish over a medium-high heat with the oil. When it shimmers, lay the thighs in skin-side down and leave them alone. Don't move them. Don't peek. After seven or eight minutes the skin will have gone deep golden and crisp and will release from the pan without a fight. Turn them over, give the other side three or four minutes, then lift them out onto a plate. They don't need to be cooked through. They're going back in later.
Turn the heat down to medium. Pour away most of the fat but keep a tablespoon or so in the pan. Add the butter. When it foams, tip in the mushrooms and let them sit for a few minutes until they take on some colour, golden at the edges, slightly shrunken. Then add the leeks and the garlic. Stir everything through the butter and the pan juices. The leeks will start to soften and turn silky within five minutes. You want them tender but not collapsed. They should still have a bit of body.
Pour in the wine and let it bubble for a minute or two, scraping up anything stuck to the bottom of the pan. That's flavour, not mess. Add the stock, the thyme, and the bay leaf. Stir in the mustard. It won't taste of mustard in the finished dish; it just adds a warmth and a quiet depth that holds everything together. Bring to a gentle simmer.
Nestle the chicken thighs back into the dish, skin-side up, so the skin stays above the liquid. If it sinks, it loses its crispness, which would be a waste of the work you did earlier. Put the lid on, slightly ajar to let steam escape, and slide the whole thing into the oven at 180C/160C fan. Leave it for forty minutes. The chicken will finish cooking through, the leeks will melt into the sauce, and the kitchen will start to smell the way a kitchen should smell on a cold evening.
Lift the dish out of the oven. Remove the thyme sprigs and bay leaf. Stir the cream through the sauce gently, working around the chicken. Taste the sauce. Season again if it needs it, and it probably will. A little more salt, a grind of pepper. Scatter the parsley over the top, if you have it. Bring the whole dish to the table. Serve it with mashed potatoes or good bread to mop up the sauce. There are few better feelings than putting something like this in front of someone on a Tuesday night.
1 serving (about 400g)
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