Chapter VIII - Chicken from the Cerrado and a Clever Twist in the Narrative

"My delirium began in Virgília’s presence. Virgília was the great sin of my youth. There’s no youth without childhood, childhood presumes birth, and here is how we come, effortlessly, to that day of October 20, 1805, on which I was born. See?"

Book:  The Posthumous Memoirs of Bras Cubas by Joaquim Maria  

Recipes: The Brazilian Table by Roberts and Roberts

Chicken of the Cerarado

1 1/2 cups water
6 tbsp bacon cut into small cubes
Olive oil 
6 chicken thighs
1 cup diced onion
1 1/2 cups Cachaça
1 tbsp tomato paste
Bouquet Garni (1 sprig each parsley, scallion, and bay leaf tied with a string)
2 cups chicken broth
2 cups canned hearts of palm cut into 1 inch slices
4 tbsp butter 
3 tbsp flour
1 cup jarred onion confit


Bring the water to a boil and blanch the bacon (plunge it into the water for a few seconds and take it right back out) reserve the liquid.  Brown the bacon in a large sauce pan and set aside.  Saute the onions for 1 minute, remove and set aside.  Salt and pepper the chicken and then brown 3 pieces at a time in bacon grease and olive oil. Replace olive oil as necessary.  When all the chicken is cooked, return to the pan and douse with 1/2 cup warmed Cachaça.  Flambe immediately.  Add the bacon and onion to the pan. 

Add the tomato paste, mixing to coat the chicken pieces well.  Add 1 cup Cachaça, stir gently.  Add the bouquet garni, Cachaça, chicken broth, and cooking liquid from bacon; cover and simmer 30 minutes, then uncover and simmer 1 hour, stirring a few times.  Remove chicken to cool; when it is cool enough, separate the meat from the bones.  

Heat the butter in a skillet.  Add the hearts of palm, shaking the pan constantly and cook 20 minutes or until carmelized.  Add hearts of palm and chicken to the main pan.  Ladle out 1 1/2 cup of cooking sauce.  Whisk in flour to form a thick paste.  Fold the paste back into the pan and add onion confit and serve over rice.  

I still haven't found Cachaça.  I used rum again, which didn't flambe, so I cut the last 1 cup down to 1/2.  It was still very rummy.  All in all, it was good, but a bit complicated and I'm not sure I would really make it again.  A note about blanching bacon, I was a little concerned about the idea at first.  All I could think about was that scene from Better Off Dead when the father asks a question about some monstrous, flaccid, terrifying thing the mother is serving up and she says, "you said you don't like all the grease in fried bacon, so I boiled it!"  But, I checked it out online and apparently Julia Child blanched her bacon when she wanted a less cured flavor in her stews.  In fact, it turned out fine. 

About the book:

Apart from the leap of logic that took us from his death back to his childhood, I haven't read very much of it.  I'm not sure I really like this book; at least, I'm not that inspired to read it right now.