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When I lived in the North End of Boston in the 1980s and 1990s, I would occasionally hang out at a neighborhood bar called The Corner Café. It was located on Prince Street, near the corner of Salem Street. And it was indeed a neighborhood place. The owner, Richie Longo, was a neighborhood kid who grew up on Prince Street and duly attended Saint Leonard’s School, as his first-generation Italian-American parents had, along with every other neighborhood kid.

The usual bosses of the time were also people from the neighborhood; all of whom seemed to have nicknames. (although, nicknames were useful for identification purposes). There was Joe the lawyer, who wasn’t a lawyer at all, but he worked as an insurance investigator. Then there was Juan the Lawyer, who was a stockbroker, and Juan the Lawyer, who was actually a lawyer with an office across the street. And I was always confused by Mary the Nurse, whose nickname seemed unnecessary; in fact, she was a nurse, but she was the only regular named Mary.

Then there were the rest of the regulars: mostly young men, who fancied themselves smart guys. Their conversations were peppered with phrases like ‘fuggeddaboudit’ and ‘ba-da-bing!’ And they often talked about ‘needing to see this guy’ or ‘having to take care of that thing’. But despite the fact that they revered Robert DiNiro, and may have harbored dreams of being known by a nickname like “extreme unction,” the most serious crime either of them could have committed was betting on the Red Sox in late September.

However, when these local heroes weren’t talking about ‘this guy’ or ‘that thing,’ the conversation tended to stray to food; often to Chicken Scarpariello. This was a hot plate, literally and figuratively, during my years in Boston. And people often debated the qualities of one preparation over another. The talk often centered on the merits of Cantina d’Italia’s recipe, which included sausage, over Felicia’s, which did not. Sausage or not, however, Chicken Scarpariello is the kind of dish that would please any know-it-all because it encourages eating with a fork in one hand and a piece of crusty bread in the other; the latter, used to soak up the sauce and to punctuate various exclamations of ‘fuggeddaboudit’ or ‘ba-da-bing’.

The short version of the Chicken Scarpariello story, ‘cobbler-style’, is that it got its name from the humble guy who cobbled together the ingredients for the dish from his meager pantry. How he became a favorite of the sages is more obscure and most likely lost to history. But I suggest that when you serve Chicken Scarpariello at home, the conversation at the table will perk up a decibel or two above normal. And will you and your table mates enjoy it? Fuggeddaboudit.

Skip’s Chicken Scarpariello

Cobbler Style Chicken

Extracted from my second cookbook, “Almost Italian”.

Ingredients:

2 ½ — 3 lbs. Fried chicken cut into 8 pieces

4 tablespoons olive oil

4 cloves garlic, peeled and thinly sliced

1 cup dry white wine (Pinot Grigio or Verdicchio are popular choices)

6 – 8 hot peppers, cored, seeded and coarsely chopped

1 14 oz. Can of chicken broth (preferably low sodium)

4 tablespoons Italian flat-leaf parsley

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

juice of 1 lemon

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Six Links Sweet Italian Sausage, cut into 1-inch strips chunks (optional)

4 tablespoons Italian flat-leaf parsley

Preparation:

Season chicken pieces on all sides with salt and freshly ground black pepper.

Heat a large skillet over medium-high heat, then add the olive oil. Add the garlic and sauté for about 1 minute, being careful not to let the garlic burn.

Add chicken pieces to skillet without crowding. Do this step in batches if necessary. Cook chicken pieces, turning occasionally, until browned on all sides; About 10 minutes. Remove chicken pieces from skillet and reserve on a plate, covering with foil.

Turn the heat up to high and add the wine. Boil, stirring with a wooden spoon to loosen any chicken pieces that have caramelized on the bottom of the pan, for about 2 minutes. Add the cherry peppers, chicken broth, parsley and butter. Allow the mixture to come back to a boil, then add the lemon juice. Taste for seasoning and add salt and pepper as needed.

Lower the heat to a simmer, return the chicken to the skillet and simmer, covered, for about 15 minutes. For a smart boy presentation, add the sausage at this point as well.

Serve

Remove chicken pieces (and optional sausage) to a plate, top with sauce and garnish with parsley. Serve with plenty of Italian bread to soak up the sauce.

serves oven

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