Middle School – Crisp-Skinned Chicken Thighs with Artichokes, Olives, and Onions

In my opinion there’s almost no stage in life worse than middle school. Zits are erupting; odors are wafting; hormones are raging; hairs are sprouting. Kids this age have no control and don’t really understand what’s happening to their bodies. It’s incredibly awkward.

I went to middle school a few blocks from downtown Philadelphia. Not to date myself, but I actually rode a trolley (and then a subway) to school every day. There was no space for fields or playgrounds to get us outside for fresh air. Instead, they herded us upstairs onto the roof, which was fully caged in so we wouldn’t fall into traffic below. Up there we got to breathe in fresh Philadelphia smog.

In fifth and sixth grades we were stuck in the same classroom for most of the day. But for seventh and eighth grades, we got shuffled from room to room around the building, Science and Math classes on one floor, English and Social Studies on others. The Music rooms were tucked somewhere behind the auditorium stage; Art was in some odd corner of the building up a few sets of stairs, and what we called Foreign Language at the time was stuck wherever there was free space.

There were two classes, which required special, immovable equipment that were sequestered deep in the basement of the building. Shop and Home Economics (now called Career Tech Ed and Family and Consumer Science) were less academically rigorous than all the others and were clearly some kids’ favorites. We were required to take both, although none of us understood what contribution they might make to us later in life.

I remember almost nothing about Shop class. I suppose we built little things out of wood, and I vaguely recall some sort of printing and binding of paper to make pads. It was never a class that resonated with me.

Home Ec on the other hand was my kind of class. I don’t think we learned about child development or personal finances in the late 1970s as they do today, but we definitely learned how to sew and the basics of cooking.

I worked hard to earn my “driver’s license” on the sewing machine – sewing a perfect circular spiral in and a square spiral out on a scrap of fabric. When the assignment was to create a pillow, mine was a precise replica of the Rolling Stones’ tongue and lips logo. And my hard work paid off; in college, my first work study job was in the Wilderness Program storeroom renting camping equipment and creating first aid kits from old sleeping bag stuff sacks that wrapped around your waist with a belt so you could wear them as you were backpacking. I got the job based on my ability to use a sewing machine.

While learning how to master the sewing machine was fine, I especially liked the cooking part of the class. Maybe I enjoyed learning to prepare my own meals, or perhaps I needed the extra food to feed my growing teenage body, or it could have been that the lunches my father packed were so troublesome.

We learned to make French toast and scrambled eggs, and I think there might have been a coffee cake in there. But the most memorable lesson was learning a technique to prepare an omelet. I distinctly recall being taught how to gently lift the solidifying edges a little bit at a time as I tilted the pan to allow the liquid egg to run underneath. We slowly worked our way around the entire skillet so it would cook evenly. Although they didn’t teach us to flip the omelet with a flick of our wrist (can you imagine a whole class of seventh or eighth graders throwing hot eggs in the air?), I still use this technique today.

While middle school is generally an awkward and awful stage we all must go through, and some classes may not seem important at the time, we are always learning. You never know when an experience will stick with you and become one of those lessons that make an impression for your entire life. Learning how to cook an omelet in the basement in seventh or eighth grade Home Economics class was one of those moments for me.

Crisp-Skinned Chicken Thighs with Artichokes, Olives, and Onions

This recipe has nothing to do with omelets, middle school, or Home Economics class, but it is a solid, tasty recipe, perfect for a quick weeknight meal. The crisp skin makes it particularly inviting.

Although you could use bone-in chicken thighs to make your life easier, for this recipe I prefer them boneless with the skin still on. If you follow my suggestion, unfortunately you will need to remove the bone yourself, as stores do not sell boneless, skin-on chicken thighs.

To make the skin perfectly crispy, fat must be rendered slowly. Start them skin side down in a cold skillet and do not touch them – as tempting as it may be – until the skin is golden underneath, and the thighs are almost cooked through. It may take longer than you think. When it’s time to serve, be sure to nestle the chicken skin up among the artichokes, olives, and onions without covering it, to ensure that the skin is as crackling and crunchy as can be. You don’t want to put the sauce on top and make the crisp skin, soggy.

serves 4, 30 minutes

4 skin-on, boneless chicken thighs (from about 2 lbs. bone in)

kosher salt and fresh ground black pepper to taste

1 large or two medium onions, peeled and sliced in half-inch thick wedges from pole to pole

1 can whole artichokes, drained, sliced in half lengthwise, and patted dry with a paper towel

1½ cups pitted olives, Kalamata, Castelvetrano, or others

½ cup dry white wine

juice of 1 lemon

1. Debone the chicken thighs by running the tip of a sharp knife through the muscle alongside and then under the bone, on the side without skin. Make sure to leave the skin on the other side intact.
2. Place chicken thighs skin side down in a single layer in a heavy skillet large enough to hold them with plenty of room. Sprinkle salt and black pepper over the chicken. Turn the heat to medium and let the thighs cook and fat render. Do not touch, flip, or move them until the skin is golden and crispy, the thighs are about three quarters cooked through, and they release easily from the skillet, about 15 minutes. Rotate the pan as needed for even heating and lower the heat if they start to burn. When it is time, flip the chicken and cook until done (internal temperature of 165 ^oF), another few minutes. Remove chicken from the skillet, leaving the fat behind, and place on a large plate, skin side up.
3. Place pan with chicken fat over medium heat and add the onions. Cook until wilted and translucent. Remove half and set aside in a small bowl, allowing the remaining onions to cook until they start to brown and get crispy. Remove from the skillet and set aside.
4. Add the artichokes to the pan and cook, stirring occasionally, until they are just starting to char. Add olives and reserved onions and season with salt and pepper.
5. Turn heat to low and stir in white wine allowing to cook for a couple of minutes. Scrape up any tasty brown bits on the bottom of the pan. Add lemon juice and mix in. Nestle chicken skin side up among artichokes, olives, and onions in the skillet or in a large dish and serve hot.

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