Thanks Mr. 2 buck!

The hardwood floor rippled slightly under my feet as I lurched to the bathroom for my way too early Monday morning shower. Or was that merely the effect of too much two-buck Chuck from Trader Joe’s downed while consuming the best meal of the weekend? The smell of wine-soaked game hen still permeated the bedroom—not too surprising as the bed is in the open room right next to the kitchen (less street noise here than the actual bedroom) and I wished I could eat some more bird for breakfast.

I’d been looking for a good bird to cook since I roasted my first duck for New Year’s this year. I took cues from my French in-laws and used the rendered goose fat to slow cook some thinly sliced potato rounds just till golden brown and slightly crispy. Sure fat gives food great flavor, but duck fat is phenomenal! The potatoes were divine—rich and not too salty. A few years ago I had the best brussel sprouts of my life (American children’s most hated veggie), learning only after having eaten half a plate-full of the tender salty-sweet browned balls that they had been cooked in the canary yellow goose fat garnered from the fresh foie gras that I tried oh-so-hard not to eat too much of. After that, it was really too late to worry about cholesterol for the rest of the meal.

We found some Rock Cornish game hens at our local Russian bodega, of all places. The Joy of Cooking describes them as having a mild, but pleasant gamey flavor even though they’re practically all white meat (Joy, while very practical, is no Julia Child). I was too hungry to wait the hour-and-a-half that the wild rice needed to cook before I could stuff it in the birds, so I kept a component of the rice stuffing—the green olives—and put them in some sage-flavored stuffing mix from the pantry and into the tiny birds’ cavities. The roasting pan I used was our IKEA cocotte (French style porcelain coated cast-iron pan) so I didn’t even bother trussing the birds, as they only had enough room to shimmy in the pan side-by-side and the stuffing stayed in just fine. After the pan was good and hot, say after 15 minutes at 350˚F, I poured about a glass of the aforementioned two-buck Pinot Grigio in the pan, and at least two in me. I mentioned being hungry, n’est ce pas? After 30 mins more, I basted the birds and turned them up to 400˚F, and basted myself with some more wine, while surveying the caramelizing carrots & onions. Thankfully the rice was handled by my hubby, because I might’ve burned it.

Fifteen more minutes and it was time to tuck into those cute little birds. What could be cuter than single-serving sized fowl? And what could be more delicious? I honestly don’t know, because after being steeped in wine (me and the hens) this meal was off-the charts good. When you and your guests are making yummy noises after every single bite, I know I’ve hit recipe perfection—with a nod to Mr. Two-buck for his help.