Le Poussin en Surprise

Le Poussin en Surprise

Stuffed Cornish hens baked in paper delivers a double whammy to the diner.

First, the novelty of the host serving a dish cooked en papillote. Especially if the host is wise enough not to give it away by holding up a bag stuffed with a stuffed cornish game hen and yelling to their guests, dude, check it out, stuffed cornish hens in a paper bag! The second whammy is when the diner tears open the paper and the steam whooshes out carrying all the flavors from the dish which have been waiting to burst into the air. Now they do and the effect is overwhelming. I suppose there is a third and final whammy, which is the flavor, but for the purposes of this lead, we’ll stick to the first two

Cooking en papillote is a classic technique of French cooking, but it isn’t very hard. Hell, it’s one of the easiest ways to cook fish or chicken. Fish is especially good this way because the sealed paper packet keeps in the moisture and steams the fish as it bakes. Same with small game, like stuffed cornish hens. Both meats will cook quickly in the paper packet, ensuring a gorgeously rendered dish with minimal effort, maximum results.

You’re gonna bone a chicken

I know some of you are giggling because, like me, you are hopelessly and enduringly 14-year-old. For you, moi petits idiotos, feel free to say “I’m boning a chicken” as often as you can fit it into a conversation. And look, I know we’re actually de-boning a chicken, but nobody in American kitchens says that because we shorten everything until it’s a grunt and because it’s a tautology. You can’t re-bone a chicken, or in-bone a chicken. You can only remove the spine from the carcass. But you can’t put it back in. So you’re boning a chicken. Stop laughing.

And look, it’s easy to bone stuffed Cornish hens

You’ll finally get to use those kitchen shears that came with your knife block. You’re always like, why the hell are there scissors in my knife block? This is why. Doing this with a knife is possible. I’m sure there are a few chefs out there who prefer it (actually, there are a LOT of chefs who prefer a knife) but they’re homicidal psychopaths and this is the better way. Just plop your little bird down on the counter, split the skin down the spine, then slip your shears alongside the spine at the tail, or the neck, and slice down one side then the other. Then pull out the backbone and reserve it for stock later (freeze it, you maniac).

Except I’m completely wrong.

You still need a knife, if you’re going full deboning. If you want to remove the ribs, the legbones, the breastbone, etc, you’ll need a very sharp knife. Like a boning knife. I used my paring knife, which I keep razor sharp.

Now look, boning a chicken is one of those kitchen skills with no exact method. This one is my favorite, but Chef John has a nice video about it as well. They are entirely different. In fact, if you go through the endless assortment of chicken boning videos (I advise you to turn on the adult filter here) you will find 870 million videos and 870 million methods. This is a technique where there are broad similarities across the spectrum of professionals, yet each chef must find their own way. You can and should do this. Yes, if you aren’t careful you can lose a finger but that’s unlikely. Sure, that first rock hen is going to look like a war casualty. But by the time you finish the sixth chicken, you’ll be a pro.

Please bear in mind that I am not a trained chef and everything I say should be read with at least one eyebrow raised so high it goes over the back of your head. See our disclaimer.

Do not stuff this stuffed Cornish hen into a paper bag

It’s tempting to grab a lunch sack from your enormous supply of brown paper bags but I encourage you not to do that. If you’ve seen stuffed cornish game hen recipes elsewhere on the intertubes recommending any old paper bag, disregard them. Those bags are made from gasoline cancer and will not only impart a top note of chemical nightmares into your poussin en papilotte, but they could also catch on fire. It’s gross. Don’t do it.

Besides, you want to be a good home chef, don’t you? The professional method is almost as easy as using a brown paper bag so chillax and follow along here.

  1. Cut out one 16×12 rectangle for each bird.
  2. Fold that thing in half so it’s about the size of a normal sheet of notebook paper.
  3. Starting about one inch from either side, cut an arc across the top. When you unfold the paper, it should look like a heart.
  4. Place your bird on the right side of the heart
  5. Fold the left side over the bird
  6. starting at the upper left, fold a small section of the paper down, then starting from the center of that fold, do another one. Keep going until you get to the end. Twist and tuck the final fold under your bird.

Here is a short, direct video that shows you exactly what to do.

About sauce diable

Here is where Price and culinary technique part ways and it’s for the same reason as always. Foodies weren’t ubiquitous like they are now. Sure, there were gourmands, but most cooks were either pros who learned on the job or housewives who learned from their moms. They might know how to make a quick gravy and at Thanksgiving they might really push their envelope and make a brown sauce (probably not, though; they probably got it from a jar). But it’s a safe bet most American cooks had never heard of the mother sauces and definitely hadn’t heard of sauce diable.

Price’s recipe calls for red and white wine, shallots, brown sauce, and cayenne pepper. This will definitely make a hot brown sauce and I’m sure it was good, but it’s not sauce diable. It’s close. Maybe it’s the chef’s personal method from RESTAURANT. However, in Sauces, by James Peterson, the recipe for classic sauce diable is: 3 shallots, minced; 5 ounces white wine and 5 ounces of white wine vinegar reduced by two thirds; add 7 ounces of demi-glace and cook until thick Add salt and cayenne to taste.

That’s a different sauce. It’s got more depth because of the vinegar, yet it has less density because demi-glace is not the same as brown gravy. If you don’t have demi glace, try reducing 14 ounces of beef stock by half. It’s not perfect, but it’s better than gravy. You can also just order demi glace online.

Adding flavor to your sauce

Not that demi glace needs much, but you can heighten the flavor profile of your sauce diable with a couple of tricks. For instance, roast the backbones and wing tips from your stuffed Cornish hens along with the birds then pull them out early to cook with your shallots. You can also cook those shallots a wee bit longer so they caramelize. Do both–but strain out those bones before making the rest of the sauce. Finally, swirl in some butter to give it a velvety sheen and boom, you’re in business.

If you want to change this up or you hate liver or you are, somehow, a swill besotted nunbskull who likes things simple, you can kind of follow a stuffed Cornish game hen recipe using rice or (shudder) classic stuffing. If you want to combine these two (oh shit, an idea is forming . . .) use that liver to make dirty rice and shove in that fucking bird. Yum.

It’s your bird. You can abuse it however you wish. Stuff it with wild rice, glaze it with an orange sauce, stick an apple up it’s ass. Use mushrooms (for stuffing). Use Stovetope stuffing mix. Try spinach (you maniac). Sausage. Oysters. Cook it in a crockpot. Bake it. Nobody is watching. You’re the chef. Get weird.

Or do this.