My love for the dry-aged beef I can purchase at
Östermalmshallen in Stockholm is getting some competition.
A neighboring stall has been getting in an increasingly varied selection of French poultry. He's had Bresse chickens for a long time (about 5 per week - they show up on Thursdays) and I purchased one a few years ago. It was a revelation for me. However, falling kronor values have made that purchase more and more dear. Luckily, when I swung by yesterday, he had a lot of less-expensive options.
I settled on French "Label Rouge", "white" bird. He had a similar "Label Rouge" in "noir" also. These were still expensive but only half of what the Bresse were going for!
Ironically, that's were things started spiraling out of control.
I'd seen a pair of fresh, white truffles resting in a bowl of rice in the corner of his stand. Without so much as a dream of being able to afford one, I was giddy enough after my "bargain" chicken purchase to ask what the smallest one costed. He immediately informed me that I could have for a good price: 50 bucks. At that price, I let me wallet do the talking.
He mentioned that the truffle season really hadn't started (like "eating raspberries in July" is how he put it) and that these were getting a little old. Whatever - for that price, I wasn't about to look this gift horse in its mouth:

He went ahead and prepared my chicken while I waited. I asked him to save everything as I hadn't brought along my camera. A mistake I doubly regretted as his technique of removing this chicken's feet was dramatic, brutal and effective. After cutting the skin around the ”knee” of the bird, he hung it by one foot from a securely fastened hook on the wall. He then sharply drew down on the bird, thereby removing the foot along with all of its still-attached tendons. He also used a blowtorch to burn off a few remain feathers. We were getting a few stares from fellow shoppers – me grinning ear-to-ear with the satisfaction of my purchases, him yanking and burning this poor bird.
I hurried home.
The bird:


The ingredients for the preparation of the chicken:

That's cream, shallots, a little tarragon, creme fraiche, a carrot, homemade chicken stock and the butchered chicken.
You can perhaps see from the chicken pieces above but this wasn't your average Perdue bird. Overall, the chicken felt firm and dry. The skin was thin, strong and even a little rough. The breasts were thin and seemed unusually long while the legs and thighs were very dark, long and small. It's bones were hard and it had obviously been allowed to use its leg muscles. Everything about this bird screamed ”not industrially produced”! It was mature to a degree that would never be profitable on a factory farm.
I opened a bottle of white burgandy (the best I could get on short notice) before proceeding:

(I'm not a wine freak but this was a wonderful bottle. Sure, it would probably be better with a couple more years but it just fine with the five it got.)
I started the chicken by gently browning it in butter.


I sauteed some diced shallots and carrot in the left-over butter:

… and added stock and wine:

When that reached a boil, I added a sprinkle of thyme as well as the legs and thighs before covering the pan.

While the legs and thighs cooked, I made a quick ”primi” for half of the truffle.
Ingredients:

That's high-quality pappardelle (from rustichella d'abruzzo), cultured French butter, the truffle and excellent parmesan.
Not much work needed here. I boiled the pasta, tossed it in the butter and a little cheese before thinly slicing the truffle over it:

It was truly wonderful. Even with this particular truffle's faults, the flavors were incredible!
You didn't think I'd waste the rice that came with this truffle, did you? As I was eating the pasta, I started a risotto.

When the legs and thighs were nearly done, I added the breasts to the pan.
Careful to not overcook, I checked the pot after only about five minutes. Everything was done!
I quickly strained the remaining stock and added the cream, creme fraiche and, after tasting, salt and white pepper.
The risotto got a handful of parmesan and a knob of cultured butter:

Light fading, dinner was served:

Chicken, risotto and a little
broccoli_
suburban.
Not bad for ”budget” luxury!