Chicken tinga and the swing of the pendulum
A recipe for warmer weather + an upcoming challah demo in Seattle!
Hi! Happy April!
Seattle friends! I’m offering an in-person challah demo and book talk this Sunday, April 7th, hosted by Mercaz. You can grab your tickets here while they last!
If you’re looking for the chicken tinga recipe, scroll down to the bottom.
Thank you for reading. I’m always grateful for your comments and shares on these notes.
Happy cooking and eating!
Sonya
The other morning I woke up to a text from my friend Josephine: “I had a dream about a bialy a few nights ago. A huge one.” This was on the heels of my own food dream about running into a friend at the market; she was buying a 300 lb turkey. I love the synchronicity of these larger-than-life food visions.
The next day, another synchronistic moment: Josephine posted an eloquent articulation of something that was on my mind:
“When I am blue, it is usually because things feel to be moving too fast or too slow. But when I am outside each day, observing the time kept by the plants & soil, I am back in the swing. And I mean it like that; the natural swing of the pendulum.”
In recent months, I have often felt a mood-dampening slowness. It’s not lost on me that it has also been winter. When feeling sluggish, I look to the garden for guidance. The rhubarb reminds me that it always finds its way to break through the soil to unfurl its leaves after a long winter. The sad-looking rosemary bush shows me it can produce new fragrant green needles, even after it was pummeled and browned by a fierce ice storm. The plants don’t seem to be anxious about when and how they’ll grow. Early or late, the timing is somehow just right for every tree, flower, and bush to bloom.
Spring’s official arrival in March was accompanied by a few days of unusually warm weather and cherry blossoms bursting. That same week, I gave a book talk at a Jewish assisted living community center. I had the fortune of meeting a few members of the audience.
A fashionable 96-year-old bespectacled man spoke with unabashed giddiness about his girlfriend and their upcoming trip to the Oregon coast. Another woman nearing 100 survived the Holocaust; she sat beside her friend: a 98-year-old WWII hero, who wore suspenders over a white and blue striped button-up shirt. His eyes glimmered with warmth and curiosity. After the talk, he approached me and stood close as he wove a braid of rich and heartening life stories in quick succession; sometimes his eyes watered, and sometimes they glimmered with humor. He recalled and recounted the brutality of combat, reflecting on how 'War will never be like that again...' He then revealed that he studied philosophy at Reed College and finally divulged a memorable evening he spent with Ingmar Bergman.
Another woman lingered behind to chat, and I discovered she had only moved into this community five months prior. At 89 years old, she credited a lifelong running practice as the source of her apparent youthfulness and vitality. She married for the first time at age 48, and she and her husband spent many happy years together until his passing a decade ago. She confided in me that while this new home was full of lovely people (and excellent food), she wished her husband could be by her side during the transition — he would know just what to say.
I exited the building towards my car in the crisp air. My head spun with the stories and memories I had just heard; each person containing a multitude of experiences and wonders, heartaches and joys. I found myself laughing out loud as I recalled the clever jokes the 98-year-old had made. Then, I arrived home and learned of the tragic sudden passing of a family member of close friends.
That night, the juxtaposition of life’s abundance and its fragility was as stark as the abrupt shifts in the weather. Seasons crash against each other… nature’s bounty in a dance with its struggles. I was left with an acute awareness of the natural swing of the pendulum.
The spring sun’s intermittent return is very welcome. Some days when it’s here, it feels like it never left. The familiar heat can create a false sense of summer’s presence, as though at any moment, we might find ourselves outside, sipping icy puckery margaritas in Adirondack chairs, sitting in the late light of the July setting sun. On these days, time speeds up, if only for a moment.
Looking for the ultimate Passover Seder recipes?
Perfect matzo ball soup, meltingly soft brisket that’s easy to make, and fudgy tahini brownies….
On sunny days, I crave Mexican food. Maybe that’s because sun and warmth were a staple of my life in Los Angeles, where Mexican cuisine is ubiquitous and exceptional.
During the recent short interlude of warm weather, friends came over to dinner and I set out to cook a meal of the dishes I was homesick for from LA — creamy refried beans, buttery sautéed corn doused in lime juice, cabbage shredded paper-thin on a mandolin, freshly smashed guacamole, and some asparagus charred in a cast iron skillet.
These dishes quickly came together as chicken tinga simmered on the stove. Tinga is a braised chicken dish made with tomato, chilis, onions, and spices. Like most braises, it requires a certain slowness, a sluggish thickness that serves as its own reminder of the rewards of time. The saucy shredded chicken is best served nestled into a fresh tortilla, and it’s as satisfying on the chilliest day as it is on the balmiest ones.
Over the years, missing SoCal taquerias, I’ve often made tinga without an exact recipe. Recently, the dish has come up several times on our Food Friends podcast, prompting me to document the process.
Chicken Tinga
Serves 6-8 (makes a big batch!)
Ingredients-
2 lbs (900 g) bone-in chicken pieces, thighs and/or breasts*
2 Tablespoons oil
1 medium white or yellow onion, diced small
3-4 garlic cloves, minced
1½ teaspoons paprika
1½ teaspoons ground cumin
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1 Tablespoon tomato paste
1 can (28 oz/ 793 g) crushed tomatoes
1 cup chicken stock or water
1 can (4 oz/ 113 g) chopped mild green chilis
1-2 Tablespoons chipotle chili in Adobo (depending on how spicy you like it)
1 Tablespoon maple syrup
Salt and pepper, to taste
*Note: this recipe works great with rotisserie chicken or leftover cooked chicken.
Directions:
For the chicken-
Preheat the oven to 425°F. Salt and pepper your chicken, then place on a baking sheet or roasting tray and roast until cooked through, about 40-60 minutes depending on the cuts of chicken. Allow to cool slightly, remove the crispy skin and meat from the bones and shred using your hands or two forks. Reserve the meat, and you can save the bones and skin for future broth or stock. (You can also roast your chicken and shred it a day or two in advance of making the tinga).
For the tinga-
Heat a large, deep skillet or pot over medium heat. Once hot add the oil and onion, sauté for 5-6 minutes or until softened. Add the minced garlic and sauté for an additional 2-3 minutes, or until fragrant. Add the paprika, cumin, coriander, and garlic powder and stir in for 1 minute. Add in the tomato paste, stir, and cook for an additional 1-2 minutes to caramelize the paste.
Add the tomatoes, stock, green chilis, chipotle, and maple syrup to the pot. Season generously with salt and pepper. Add the reserved shredded chicken, and bring the mixture up to a boil, then lower to a simmer. Simmer the chicken in the tomato sauce for 45 minutes, until the flavors have all come together. The mixture will be tender and slightly thickened.
You can simmer the tinga longer if desired, and you can always add more liquid if it’s too thick for your liking. Tinga can last up to 1 week in the fridge and up to 3 months in the freezer.
To serve-
Heat your tortillas, and fill each one with a big spoonful of tinga, and your desired toppings like shredded cabbage, radish, and chopped cilantro.
