Tyler Kord

I know what you’re thinking: “Oh wow, chocolate milk and chicken are finally coming together and now my life is complete.” For all two of you not thinking that right now, let me tell you why the combo works:

I pretty much always want something braised for dinner, and as much as I love braising the legs of a cow, pig, or lamb, they take a few hours to get tender and thus aren’t always the best option for a weeknight. A chicken’s legs, on the other hand, braise in less than an hour, so you can have a righteous braised dish any night of the stupid week! This super simple stew is inspired by autumn flavors, using bacon, fennel, and apples (both fresh and in hard apple cider). You could totally swap out the hard cider if you’re not into the alcohol, but I would use chicken stock or water rather than apple juice or fresh cider, either of which would make it a little too sweet. There’s something about the smoky, salty, sweet, and slightly bitter elements of this dish, cooked down with chicken that is just starting to fall apart, that makes me want to smoke cigars and write a novel, but I don’t actually like cigars, and if I wrote a novel, it would just be a fictional cookbook, so it’s probably better to stick with cooking chicken for now.

Pot-au-feu is the absolute funnest way to serve boiled food (not necessarily always the funnest food). It is traditionally made by boiling tough cuts of beef, maybe some marrow bones, and a bunch of vegetables all together in water, and then serving the resulting broth as an appetizer followed by a second course of the meat and vegetables with exciting sauces for dipping. For this chicken pot-au-feu, I use the Chinese “white-cut” method, a traditional poaching technique that involves simmering the chicken in water for a relatively short period of time and then turning off the heat, covering the pot, and letting the chicken sit and poach and get all silky and juicy. After pulling the chicken meat off its bones, put the bones back in the broth to mingle with the vegetables, which can be whatever you like, really. We’ll serve it with some crusty bread, a creamy mustard sauce with the surprise additions of Thai sweet chili and dill, and a Chinese scallion-horseradish sauce that I stole from my friend Francis Lam and then tweaked a little. This fairly hands-off project does take a couple of days, but it makes for a totally manageable, still super-impressive party.

Sometimes I wish I could eat a roast bird and mashed potatoes and gravy for every meal. Most times, I just want somebody to pour gravy all over everything I eat. This chicken-stock gravy is pretty straightforward (just the pan drippings deglazed with chicken stock and thickened with cornstarch), but it’s spiked with a little soy sauce for extra umami and Dijon mustard to give it a little kick. And, oh yeah, alongside the gravy, there’s, like, a juicy roast chicken with an amazing bounty of citrus. There’s also a nontraditional but super delicious mashed sweet- and russet-potato dish with a ribbon of toasted nuts and seeds and fried shallots running through it. And there’s also a righteous green bean salad with a lemony yogurt sauce. And all of these are full of things that make you feel alive. Like gravy!

Seriously, this dish is winey and buttery and comforting and faintly reminds me of chicken marsala, and who doesn’t love chicken marsala? You can use whatever mushrooms you like; I like a mix of button (my go-to cheap, delicious utility mushroom), shiitake (not my all-time favorite mushroom, texture-wise, but definitely the most flavorful), and maitake (aka hen of the woods, for even more texture), but honestly any other varieties would be great! And you could use a wine other than Riesling, but I love the complexity and almost floral sweetness it brings, which balances nicely with the warm spices in the dish. Yes, I know, it is entirely uncool to like white wine that isn’t super dry, but I’m not sure why, and we don’t have to live our lives the way other people want us to just to be polite.

Chef and author Tyler Kord argues that vegetables are the equal of roast beef for sandwiches, makes the case for less-than-perfect ingredients, and asks you (yes, you) to reconsider that to-go bag.

I have been making broccoli sandwiches for myself since I was a kid. In high school, I would sauté broccoli and put it on top of mashed potatoes between two slices of bread. In my early twenties I got hooked on steamed broccoli with ham and cheese on a sesame seed hamburger bun. Now I roast it and top it with mayo, pickled lychees, pine nuts, and a salty, crumbly cheese.