Sentences with phrase «crackling skin»

The crackling skin of this chicken dish features Cajun / Creole goodness.

This weekly meal plan is going to require a little extra effort at the beginning of the week — but once you bite into the crackling skin of pork belly (and taste the spicy — sweet meat), you'll need no convincing that it was all worthwhile.

The crispy, crackling skin and juicy, flavorful meat on these chicken thighs is paired with salty olives and creamy pine nuts in this easy main dish.

Not exact matches

I really like that she eats chicken skin and pork crackling and even cooks with bacon lard coconut oil and ghee.

The fillets will cook from the bottom up so that the flesh stays moist while the skin gets so crisp that it crackles; if the skin becomes crisp before the top of the fish finishes cooking (it should look just opaque), flip it over and cook very briefly to finish.

Refrigerate, uncovered, for one hour — this is what gives them their crackle - y skin.

Roast them just until you can smell them and the skins crackle.

Take care to trim all the fat off the loin, including the top layer of skin that is traditionally cooked as crackling.

Start with a room - temperature pan: As the skillet becomes hot, the chicken skin will gradually render its fat, becoming browned and crackling.

In theory, chicken under a brick is a brilliant idea: Put a whole spatchcocked bird flat on the grill, weigh the whole thing down with a couple of foil - wrapped bricks for speedy cooking and maximum surface area for crisping, then grill until the skin is crackling and the meat is juicy.

The flesh side will cook up moist and tender, while the skin roasts to a crackling finish.

While they are toasting, they'll making crackling noises, some seeds will start getting golden brown and the skin on some varieties will crack.

Chef Jeremy Fox made his name with super-seasonal vegetables at Ubuntu in Napa, but at this Santa Monica wine bar, he's making an even bigger name for himself by joining them with the lesser - loved parts of animals: melty raclette toast with chicken - skin cracklings and onion jam dunked in chicken consommé.

These maple bacon pork skin cracklings for Mr. Incredible.

Keep your main protein, such as turkey, to a quarter of the plate and choose skin - free options (that does mean removing the pork crackling).

What I like about the spatchcocking and low - ish temperature is the way the skin stays crackling crisp at the same time the meat is perfectly cooked, and juicy.

You may notice your dog's skin and hair are drier than usual in the wintertime, and her coat is crackling with static electricity every time you pet or brush her.

, you are lying on the floor of your place looking up, a small draft runs through the room, between the door and the window, and all things seem perfectly still, wind only disturbs concrete in imperceptible ways, or it may take millions of years to be noticed and, as the air runs through the space, all your plants move and all is animated and all is alive somehow, and here are the thoughts of all men in all ages and lands, they are not original with me, and that wind upon your plants is the common air that bathes the globe, and we have no ambitions of universalism, and I'm glad we don't, but the particles of air bring traces of pollen and are charged with electricity, desert sand, maybe sea water, and these particles were somewhere else before they were dragged here, and their route will not end by the door of this house, and if we tell each other stories, one can imagine that they might have been bathed by this same air, regrouped and recombined, recharged as a vehicle for sound, swirling as it moves, bringing the sound of a drum, like that Kabuki story where a fox recognizes the voice of its parents as a girl plays a drum made out of their skin, or any other event, and yet I always felt your work never tells stories, I tend to think that narrative implies a past tense, even if that past was just five seconds ago, one second ago was already the past, and human memory is irrelevant in geological time, plants and fish know not what tomorrow will bring, neither rocks nor metal do, but we all live here now, and we all need visions and we all need dreams, and as long as your metal sculptures vibrate they are always in the Present, and their past is a material truth alien to narrative, but well, maybe narrative does not imply a past tense at all and they are writing their own story while they gently move and breathe, and maybe nothing was really still before the wind came in, passing through the window as if through an irrational portal to make those plants dance, but everything was already moving and breathing in near complete silence, and if you're focused enough you can feel the pulse of a concrete wall and you can feel the tectonic movements of the earth, and you can hear the magma flowing under our feet and our bones crackling like a wild fire, and you can see the light of fireflies reflected in polished metal, and there is nothing magical about that, it is just the way things are, and sometimes we have to raise our voice because the music is too loud and let your clothes move to a powerful bass, sound waves and bright lights, powerful like the sun, blinding us if we stare for too long, but isn't it the biggest sign of love, like singing to a corn field, and all acts of kindness that are not pitiful nor utilitarian, that are truly horizontal as everything around us is impregnated with the deadliest violence, vertical and systemic, poisonous, and sometimes you just want to feel the sun burning your skin and look for life in all things declared dead, a kind of vitality that operates like corrosion, strong as the wind near the sea, transforming all things,

Discard the heavy skin, or roast it as crackle.