I recently made it my goal to try and actively use my cookbook collection. I flipped through them, photo copied a dozen or so from each and have been slowly working my way through the pile.
This evening I made Cornish Hens with Cornbread Stuffing and Broccoli with Dijon Vinaigrette dressing, from Ina Garten’s Barefoot Contessa at Home: Everyday Recipes You’ll Make Over and Over Again.
I’m not sure about the “over and over again” part, but I will defiantly stash away the recipe for the onion rings I made a few weeks back, and corn bread that I made the other day to use as stuffing.
Cornish Hens are cute, smaller versions of Chicken. One would probably feed two comfortably, I found an entire one a bit daunting, and rather difficult to eat (although I can use the leftovers for sandwiches). Next time I think I will just make one and we can share.
Over all they were fairly easy to work with. Happily, unlike chicken (and turkey) they do not have little odd bits that fall off/out of them when you rinse them off and pat them dry. No sack-o-giblets, necks or other odd bits, and two comfortably fit in the turkey-sized roasting pan.
Cornish Hens are quite elegant looking until you try to eat them. Not only are they a Bit Much, they shift around the plate and push the broccoli off the edge of the plate. They also have bones, skin, and are surprisingly uncooperative.
They lay there looking rather… well, obviously they were once alive. The little wings lay across their chests, their legs lay askew, out of the cavity where internals once lived pours vivid yellow cornbread stuffing.
The cornbread stuffing (and corn bread on its own) were both excellent. The broccoli with the Dijon Vinaigrette dressing was fantastic. The Cornish Hens, while quite good (the meat was very tender and moist), probably won’t make an appearance at our table for Quite Some Time, mostly because they’re not the easiest thing in the world to eat. I’ll make them again when I want to impress someone, celebrate a special occasion, or make a mini-roast-“chicken.”