Peach-Bourbon Glazed Chicken

The inspiration for this scrumptious chicken highlighting the flavors of peach and bourbon came from Instagram, but it was salmon rather than chicken. And it was baked rather than grilled (I think). I don’t remember the details, and anyone who is on Instagram knows that’s the nature of the social media beast— either follow it or lose it. And I don’t want to follow every single thing that interests me because I’m scatterbrained enough, and I don’t always think to “save” a recipe post to my favorites collection. I need that sacred space for videos of hero dogs making their final flight home, hungry raccoons snatching a donut at the Dunkin’ drive-thru, and onesie-wearing dachshunds munching on carrots by a cozy fireplace. Yep, I use social media for mindless entertainment. When it comes to food posts, I’m only looking for inspiration.

That mention of a peaches and bourbon combo was enough to get me going, though, and it stuck with me for days after I saw it, so when Les and I were asking each other what we’d do for dinner last weekend, I remembered the package of chicken thighs I had just bought that day and I blurted without even thinking, “peach-bourbon glazed chicken.” And there was no arm-twisting involved, because anytime we are pairing anything and bourbon, we’re good. All I needed was a recipe, right?

Not so fast.

If I had time only to share one message for people who think they don’t know how to cook, it would be this: trust yourself! Recipes only get you so far; you still have to understand some things about cooking, and that boils down to pairing flavors and mastering a few techniques. You already know what flavors you like together, so learn the methods that will help you be successful and the rest will fall into place. I didn’t write down anything about the recipe from that fleeting Instagram post— but I am going to connect the dots from what struck me about it: peaches, bourbon, meat and the grill.


The Flavor Pairings

Peaches are sweet, juicy and summery. What complements sweet? Tart, spice or smoke. That helps narrow down my next move toward pairing flavors. Bourbon is strong, with a boozy bite and a light smokiness from oak barrel aging, so I already have a complementary flavor profile (smoke) taking shape. I can inch it further toward smoke with introduction of a spice, but which ones are smoky? Off the top of my head, I know I have cumin, but that starts heading off into more specific ethnic cuisines (Mexican or Indian), which is not where I’m going. I wanted this to taste like an all-American summer. Paprika is also smoky and brings the benefit of adding vibrant brick-red color. That’s my choice for this dish, and I happen to have a bourbon-smoked paprika, which is a no-brainer here. Finally, I want to take the edge off the bourbon without losing its flavor, and a bit of brown sugar will do that while also supporting the sweetness of the peach. See how easy that was?

Lest you think that I analyze every recipe I make this way, I can assure that most of this mental processing happens unconsciously, much the same as getting dressed in the morning and instantly knowing which colors, styles and patterns will work or clash. The more time you spend in the kitchen, the more natural these decisions become.

Regular pantry ingredients are fine for this recipe, but if you’re interested in these bourbon-smoked spices, here’s the link! https://bourbonbarrelfoods.com/product/bourbon-smoked-spice-set/

Salt and pepper: the simplest seasonings are usually enough when you’re grilling, and it’s the way to go when you want the flavor of the meat to take center stage.

Smoked paprika: this lends a light smoky flavor, which is always a winner for the grill. This spice might not have been right for berries or citrus, but it worked great with peaches.

Brown sugar: this will underscore the sweetness of the peaches, soften the bourbon and also encourage even caramelization of the meat during grilling and glazing.


The Technique

Les and I have both grilled food for years, but we always have something new to learn. I’ve been leaning heavily lately on the teachings of Kenji López-Alt, whose book The Food Lab describes in detail the benefits of dry-brining meat before roasting or grilling. It’s a whole science-y thing that involves reverse osmosis or something, and it works every time, producing both a great crispy skin and a juicy, tender interior. So for these chicken thighs, I did a quick dry brine with the seasoning blend above, and I held back a spoonful to use in the peach-bourbon glaze (more on that in a moment).


With better planning, I would have done this seasoning step the night before we cooked, to give the chicken skin more than five hours of dry brining time. But sometimes these ideas hit me on the same day I want to cook, and five hours turned out to be plenty to give the chicken a locked-in delicious flavor. An extra few hours would likely have dried out the skin more for an even crispier exterior, so maybe next time. 😉


The Peach-Bourbon Glaze

The peach-bourbon flavor combination that started it all was the last thing I prepared, but you can see by now that it was the basis for everything else I did. This is usually how I develop a recipe, whether it’s for a cocktail, a dessert or a main dish. The same spice blend I rubbed on the chicken also seasoned the peaches I cooked down for the glaze. An extra spoonful of brown sugar made the glaze syrupy, but too much would have made it cloyingly sweet. For the bourbon, I scanned my bar for ideas. Would regular bourbon have worked? Of course. Black-cherry infused bourbon? Not so much. The smoked maple was next-level, the winner!  


More Technique

The rest of the process belonged to my husband, also known here as “Master of the Grill.” He has been relentless in learning the nuances of our new Napoleon gas grill with its numerous bells and whistles, including infrared searing zones, and some of those features come with a steep learning curve. For chicken thighs, Napoleon recommends a “reverse-sear” technique—Kenji would approve— and so Les preheated the grill to 350° F, with indirect heat on one side. The goal with this kind of cooking is to slow-cook the meat to achieve proper temperature before sealing the deal with crispy skin and glaze.


Les placed the thighs skin side-down on that indirect side and closed the grill cover, turning them only once during a whole 25 minutes, and checking the internal temperature periodically until it reached the recommended 145° F. Finally, the chicken was ready to move to the direct heat side of the grill, where it was licked by the flames for about four minutes, until the skin was crispy and the final meat temperature was 165° F. Only then did Les brush the peach-bourbon glaze onto the thighs for a final grilling, and gave them another quick sear to lock in the glaze.


If he had done the glazing too early, two things could have gone wrong— the glaze (with all its sugars) would probably have burned, and the wetness of it would have kept the skin from reaching and keeping its ideal, crispy texture. Patience, Grasshopper.


The Result

So there we have it: peach-bourbon inspiration + simple, complementary seasonings + unconventional technique + teamwork = one winner of a dish! The chicken thighs were juicy and tender inside, with a nice, crispy skin and a flavorful coating that combined one of summer’s greatest gifts and one of our favorite spirits. 

This right here; this is why I love to cook. 😁


Peach-Bourbon Glazed Chicken

  • Servings: Up to 4 thighs
  • Difficulty: Average
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A smoky spice is a wonderful complement to the sweetness of fresh, summer peaches in this flavorful grilled chicken recipe.


Ingredients

  • 1 pound chicken thighs
  • 1 tsp. smoked paprika (Spanish-style, not “hot” or Hungarian)
  • 1 tsp. kosher salt
  • 1/2 tsp. black pepper
  • 3 tsp. brown sugar (use 2 for the rub and 1 in the glaze)
  • 1 large peach, peeled and diced
  • 1 1/2 oz. bourbon (I used smoked maple, and it was great!)
  • A splash of water, as needed, to cook down the peaches

This recipe relies on two specific techniques: dry-brining and indirect grilling. Both are outlined below, and they take longer than a conventional recipe, so plan ahead. I promise, the extra wait time is well worth it in the end! You’ll need to check the internal temperature of the chicken, so it’s beneficial to have a meat thermometer handy when you begin.

Directions

  1. Do not rinse the chicken. Pat the pieces dry on all sides with paper towels. Arrange on a plate or in a glass dish.
  2. Combine paprika, salt and pepper in a small bowl. Add two teaspoons of the brown sugar and mix until evenly blended. Sprinkle all over both sides of the chicken, reserving about one teaspoon of the spice mix for the glaze. Place the chicken, uncovered and skin side exposed, into the fridge and let it rest for several hours.
  3. Add diced peaches to a small saucepan with remaining spice blend and another teaspoon of brown sugar. Pour in half of the bourbon and cook over medium low heat until peaches break down and mixture is slightly syrupy. If needed, add a splash or two of water to achieve this consistency.
  4. After about 15 minutes, mash the peaches slightly into a chunky puree. When all the moisture has evaporated, stir in the remaining half shot of bourbon and remove from heat. If you make and chill this ahead, bring it to room temp before grilling.
  5. Remove chicken from fridge about 30 minutes before grilling. Heat grill to 350° F, with burners or coals only one one side of the grill for indirect cooking.
  6. Arrange chicken pieces, skin side-down, on indirect side of the grill. Cook for about 25 minutes, turning once or twice, until internal temperature is 145° F. Move chicken to direct heat side to finish cooking and crisp the skin.
  7. When chicken internal temp reaches 165° F, brush on peach-bourbon glaze, and continue to cook on direct heat side briefly, until glaze has a “baked-on” appearance. Watch it closely so the sugars don’t burn.
  8. Serve chicken immediately. When cooking by reverse-sear, post-cooking rest is not necessary.



Bacon & Bourbon Waffles

The countdown to Easter will begin next week, and for many people who follow religious tradition, that means giving things up for Lent. I don’t participate in the observance of Lent myself, but I always know that it’s coming because all the fast-food chains start advertising their fish sandwich options again. When Ash Wednesday arrives, those who do observe will “fast” until Easter from any number of things— whether food, habit or activity— to mirror the fasting and spiritual introspection that the Bible says Jesus modeled during the 40 days he wandered in the wilderness before his trial and crucifixion.

But before that period of fasting and self-restraint, we eat and we party! 

According to this article on Food52, the old-time religious faithful observing Lent would spend the day ahead (which they called Shrove Tuesday) ridding their homes of luxury ingredients such as eggs, sugar, butter and milk, so they wouldn’t give in to temptation during those 40 days of self-deprivation. It just so happens that pancakes are an easy way to use up all of those tempting ingredients, and the tradition of eating pancakes the night before Lent was born. 

This tradition of indulging the day before Ash Wednesday is also evident with the festivities of Mardi Gras, which translates literally from French to “Fat Tuesday.” Is there a better way to observe a day called Fat Tuesday than chowing down on thick, fluffy pancakes, drenched in butter and sweet syrup? Possibly. If you want to shake things up this year, either for Shrove Tuesday or Mardi Gras, ditch the plain old pancakes and whip up a batch of bacon and bourbon waffles instead.

These are darn near sinful!

My waffles have crispy bacon and smoky, maple-infused bourbon— on the inside and the outside. This meal feels perfectly appropriate for Mardi Gras, in the spirit of indulgence and with a whisper of New Orleans— bourbon whiskey, after all, was likely named after the same French ruling family that gave Bourbon Street its name. I put a tablespoon of my smoked maple bourbon right into the batter of my waffles, and kissed the syrup with a splash of it as well. If you can’t get your hands on this bourbon, any quality bourbon will work fine. But for the syrup, you owe it to yourself to use real maple. For waffles this indulgent, supermarket syrup just won’t do.

The smoked maple bourbon is exquisite, and does fine things for cocktails, too!

The waffles make use of my sourdough discard, and the batter includes a bit of cornmeal, for texture but also as a friendly nod to the corn in the mash bill of the bourbon. Start building the batter overnight if you’ll be enjoying the waffles for breakfast (hey, if you’re down with a splash of bourbon at breakfast, you are definitely my kinda people), or in the morning if you want them for Fat Tuesday dinner. Stir together the flour, cornmeal, buttermilk and sourdough starter, then cover it and leave it on the counter til you’re ready to waffle.


When it’s time to eat, cook up some bacon pieces until they’re crispy, and add the drippings to the melted butter that will be mixed into the batter. We use uncured bacon at our house, and I love the natural flavor. The smoky bacon emphasizes the smoked maple flavors in the bourbon as well, and it’s a nice offset to all the sweetness that hits you in the syrup.


Get the waffle iron going, and then mix the rest of the ingredients into the batter. Whisk the butter into the beaten egg, then half of the bourbon. Sprinkle the salt and baking soda over the bubbly overnight batter, then stir in the egg mixture and fold in about half of the crispy bacon bits. Within a couple of minutes, the batter will expand as the soda interacts with the acidic buttermilk. This chemical reaction is what gives the waffles their loft and fluff.


When the waffle iron is hot, add the batter and close the lid. Depending on your model and baking temperature, it may take 5 to 8 minutes for your waffles to be ready. Resist the urge to open the iron before the indicator light comes on, and feel free to give them an extra minute if you prefer your waffles more golden.


If you’re making a large batch of waffles, you can keep the first ones warm by placing them on a rack over a baking sheet, inside a 250 F oven. While mine were baking, I warmed up real maple syrup with the remaining tablespoon of bourbon and a pat of butter. Plate the waffles with a quick scatter of the remaining crispy bacon and the syrup.


Bacon & Bourbon Waffles

  • Servings: About 4
  • Difficulty: Average
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Ditch the boring pancakes and shake up Shrove Tuesday with these sourdough waffles, accented with bacon and bourbon from the inside out!


Ingredients

  • 2/3 cup + 1 Tbsp. all-purpose flour (85g)
  • 1/4 cup medium grind cornmeal (40g)
  • 1 cup cultured buttermilk (227g)
  • 1/3 cup sourdough starter (75g; discard is fine)
  • 2 tsp. maple (or granulated) sugar
  • 1/2 tsp. salt
  • 1/4 tsp. baking soda
  • 1 large egg, beaten
  • 3 Tbsp. salted butter, melted and cooled (or swap in some of the bacon drippings for extra bacon flavor)
  • 5 slices uncured smoked bacon, cut into pieces and cooked until crispy (use half in the batter and reserve the rest for topping the waffles)
  • 2/3 cup real maple syrup
  • 2 Tbsp. Knob Creek smoked maple bourbon, divided (use half in the batter and half in the syrup for serving)

I made these waffles using a standard, non-stick waffle maker and they were delicious. I expect that a Belgian waffle maker would produce a lighter, crispier waffle. Follow your manufacturer’s instructions regarding oiling the plates, temperature and baking time.

Directions

  1. The night before, combine flour, cornmeal, sourdough starter and sugar in a large bowl. Stir it well to ensure no pockets of dry ingredients. Cover and leave at room temperature overnight (about 8 hours).
  2. When you’re ready to make the waffles, prep the bacon and set up the waffle iron to preheat. Set oven to 250 F and place a rack inside a baking sheet for keeping waffles warm. Take the egg out of the fridge to bring to room temperature.
  3. Whisk the melted butter into the egg. Stir in 1 tablespoon of the bourbon.
  4. Sprinkle the salt and baking soda over the overnight starter, which should be nice and bubbly. Pour the egg mixture into the batter and stir vigorously but briefly to get the chemical reaction started. Fold in half of the crispy bacon pieces. Let the batter rest until the waffle maker is fully preheated.
  5. Pour batter into waffle iron and close the lid. Avoid the temptation to lift the lid until your waffle iron indicator says it’s time. Keep waffles warm in oven while you prepare the next batch.
  6. Combine maple syrup and remaining bourbon in a small saucepan and heat until warm. If desired, melt a teaspoon or two of salted butter into the syrup.
  7. Scatter remaining crispy bacon over finished waffles and drizzle maple bourbon syrup over for serving.


Kickass Whiskey-Braised Collards

After a mere 30 years living in the South, I finally learned how to make collard greens, one of the staple foods of the region. It happened quite serendipitously, as I described in my original recipe for “Just Collards.” Since that fateful day, and the quick walk-through given to me by a kind stranger, I have made collards many times, using the same basic recipe. My husband and I enjoy them with everything from fried chicken that I pick up at the deli counter, pulled pork that he makes on the smoker, and even occasionally just on the side with some homemade mac and cheese.

Collard greens, in case you don’t already know, are one of nature’s “superfoods,” and they can be eaten raw, but most often you’ll find them braised in liquid. Collards are so packed with nutrients (including vitamin C, calcium, immune-supportive B vitamins and magnesium), that even the resulting cooking juices are considered to be sustaining. They are a very hardy crop, easy to grow in nearly every climate, and they are widely revered here in the South.

Until now, I have followed the same basic recipe—cook up some chopped bacon with onions, add chopped collards to the grease, splash in vinegar and broth and let them simmer until tender. Easy enough, and always delicious. I can’t quite explain what happened last week that inspired me to put a hot and spicy, bold and boozy twist on them—maybe a burst of Black History Month energy—but, mercy, was it ever good!

The salty bacon, smoky pepper heat and the bite of whiskey have transformed my usual collards into something extra flavorful!

I amped up these collards with fresh garlic and a few extra shakes of a specialty pepper mix we love, which includes smoky chipotle, fruity ancho and fiery habanero. The combination of hot pepper flavors sent these collards over the top into kick-ass territory. The real kicker, though, was the shot of whiskey I splashed into them. And not just any whiskey, but the only brand I happened to have on hand when my imagination started running—Uncle Nearest 1856. If you have not yet heard of this whiskey, I hope you’ll take a few minutes to read about it. Uncle Nearest is a Black-owned brand, built on the legacy of Nathan “Nearest” Green, an enslaved man who taught Jack Daniel how to make whiskey. If you’re thinking, “how can that be?” well, this is why we have Black History Month, so we can fill in the gaps of what we thought we knew.

Braising in the whiskey turned out to be a great decision.

Uncle Nearest 1856 was the basis for the Long Time Coming red cocktail I created in honor of Juneteenth last year, and at 100 proof, it’s pretty sturdy. The charred oak barrel notes of the spirit imparted additional smokiness to these collards, which cooked up in about half the time as my regular, go-to recipe. That might have been the whiskey, or it could just be that I served them up earlier than usual, because they smelled so darn good.


Ingredients

3 slices uncured bacon, cut into 1/2″ pieces

1/2 large yellow or sweet onion, chopped

3 cloves fresh garlic, chopped or minced

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Several shakes Dark and Smoky red pepper blend (or any crushed red pepper you like)

1 large bunch fresh collard leaves, washed and trimmed of heavy stems

1 shot glass whiskey (about 3 tablespoons)

1 cup low-sodium vegetable broth


Instructions


In a large skillet or pot, cook the bacon and onion over medium heat until the bacon has crispy edges and the onion is softened. Add the garlic, season with a bit of salt and pepper, and cook another minute or two.

Clear a space in the center of the pan and add about a teaspoon of olive oil. Shake the red pepper flakes into the oil to activate the flavors, and then toss the bacon-onion mixture to spread it around. Add the collards, a handful at a time until wilted, and toss to cook. When the collards have softened and collapsed into the pan, add the whiskey and vegetable broth and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer, covered, until collards are tender. This will take anywhere from 25-50 minutes, depending on your simmer level and preference. Adjust salt and pepper to taste before serving.