Mushroom and Chicken Paella
Published by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt
During the hour José and I spent around his huge paellera—a paella pan—he made a number of outrageous claims. A certain chef (surprisingly, a friend of his) was “the best chef in the world, no question.” The salt in Spain was saltier because Americans, you see, are savvy entrepreneurs who put less “salt” in the salt so you have to buy more. And his paella was cooking unevenly, not because the stovetop it was on was uneven but “because here in Washington we have a problem with the soil. In Spain, the ground is perfectly flat.”
Those quips, plus his vociferous knife-in-hand defense of the pelicula—the glossy residue of evaporating liquid that develops on the paella as it cooks—kept me in stitches.
When he wasn’t making outlandish claims, José gave me some great pointers about paella making: For one thing, he said—and it’s probably true—that a thin layer of rice across the pan produces rice with the best texture; it never becomes soupy. He also believes in oversalting slightly, because rice soaks up so much salt. And, finally, he nearly killed me when I threatened to touch, or even breathe on, the paella during the last 10 minutes of boiling, when the precious pelicula formed, claiming I would ruin the dish.
This last one seemed apocryphal, but whatever; his paella is great. For a less rigid—and by José’s standards, less authentic—paella, see my Fast and Easy Shrimp “Paella”.
Editors’ Note: In How to Cook Everything: Bittman Takes on America’s Chefs, “Every recipe challenge presents a chef’s special dish followed by Bittman’s more accessible interpretation.”
This is Jose Andres' entry in the "Paella" challenge. To see Mark Bittman's entry for the same challenge, please see the recipe for Fast and Easy Shrimp "Paella". About Pimentón:
I liked to tease José by nonchalantly referring to pimentón, Spain’s beloved smoked paprika, as simply “paprika.” His eyes lit up in astonishment, and he immediately began lecturing me about the provenance and flavor of “real” pimentón. He seems to oscillate between being angry at the Hungarians for producing something that could be confused with Spain’s noble spice and being angry at what he feels is the food world’s carelessness in thinking that paprika can mean just any “ground dried pepper.”
José’s jingoistic proclivities aside, pimentón is a great ingredient with a distinctive flavor that makes some Spanish food taste “right.” It’s made from certain types of peppers, which are picked ripe and then dried over the smoldering ashes of an oak fire, a process that reportedly takes up to two weeks and clearly imbues the peppers with a strong, smoky flavor.
There are three types of pimentón, hot, sweet, and bitter, but I’ve seen them used pretty interchangeably. If you can’t find a local source, try the Spice House, www.thespicehouse.com.
4 to 6 main course or at least 8 first course servings
Cooking Time1 min
Cooking Time - Text60
Total Timeunder 2 hours
One Pot MealYes
OccasionCasual Dinner Party, game day
Recipe Coursemain course
Dietary Considerationmain course
Taste and Texturegarlicky, savory, spiced, umami, winey
- 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
- 2 or 3 bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs
- 1 yellow onion, chopped
- 3 cloves garlic, chopped
- 1 bay leaf
- ½ cup dried porcini, reconstituted in 2 cups hot water
- 8 ounces fresh mushrooms, preferably mixed
- 8 ounces chorizo, chopped
- 1½ to 2 teaspoons pimenton (Spanish paprika; see Notes), or to taste
- ½ cup dry white wine
- ½ cup tomato sauce
- 2 cups Spanish or Arborio rice
- 4 to 6 cups chicken stock, preferably homemade
- Pinch saffron
- Salt to taste
Heat the oil in the widest pan you own (or use a roasting pan straddling two burners) over medium-high heat. When the oil shimmers, add the chicken thighs skin sides down and cook them, flipping once or twice, until the skin is deeply browned, about 10 minutes.
When the meat is browned, add the onions and cook them, stirring occasionally, until they soften and start to take on a little color, then add the garlic and bay leaf and cook 1 minute more, until the garlic is golden.
Drain the soaked mushrooms and add them, along with the fresh mushrooms, to the pan; cook, stirring, until the mushrooms have wilted slightly and begun to give up some of their liquid. Add the chorizo and pimentón and cook, stirring, for a 30 seconds more. Add the wine and reduce by half, about 10–15 minutes. Add the tomato sauce and cook for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.
Add the rice, scattering it across the pan in as even a layer as possible. Add the stock and saffron and season heavily with salt. When the stock reaches a boil, set a timer for 20 minutes, and adjust the heat so the paella cooks at a gentle simmer. When the timer rings, check the rice—if it’s still crunchy on the top, add a little more liquid and cook a few minutes longer. When the rice is ready, turn the heat off, let the paella rest for 2 minutes, and serve immediately.
2. When the meat is browned, add the onions and cook them, stirring occasionally, until they soften and start to take on a little color, then add the garlic and bay leaf and cook 1 minute more, until the garlic is golden.
3. Drain the soaked mushrooms and add them, along with the fresh mushrooms, to the pan; cook, stirring, until the mushrooms have wilted slightly and begun to give up some of their liquid. Add the chorizo and pimentón and cook, stirring, for a 30 seconds more. Add the wine and reduce by half, about 10–15 minutes. Add the tomato sauce and cook for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.
2005 Double B Publishing, Inc.