“Don’t look around. The leaves are brown. And the sky is a hazy shade of winter.”
It’s a dreary, frigid Saturday morning in Springfield, and I’m playing Simon and Garfunkel’s 1966 album “Bookends” as background music for my weekly chore ritual. My Saturday chores involve the stereotypical “husband duties” of vacuuming the carpet and emptying the wastebaskets. (Yes, I know, it’s a cliché, while my wife handles the more physically demanding tasks like scrubbing the toilet and tub, mopping the floors and doing all the bending and heavy lifting. To my credit, though, I do most of the cooking.)
For the past three weeks, my wife and I have been battling what feels like an endless cold or the flu, evidenced by wastebaskets overflowing with used tissues. She has sought medical attention twice, resulting in a course of Z-Pak and prednisone. I’ve opted to simply “tough it out” and am no worse off than she is. The cold temperatures and dreary, gray skies of Springfield are making me wistful for the warmer Florida winters we enjoyed while sheltering in place on our bus during the pandemic.
I’ve spent the past week immersed in a flurry of culinary preparations for my inaugural classes at the newly completed education building at Prairie Fruits Farm and Creamery in Champaign. The air in my kitchen is thick with the pungent aroma of microbial activity. Batches of tangy sauerkraut and fiery kimchi are actively fermenting, bubbling happily in their crocks, all destined to star in my introduction to lacto-fermentation class.
This weekend, I’m shifting from fermentation to preparing two large batches of ramen broth for the following week’s art of ramen class. I’ll be making tori chintan, a clear chicken broth that requires a gentle simmer for clarity, and tonkotsu, a rich, creamy pork broth that needs a vigorous, continuous boil to achieve its milky texture and deep flavor. The cold, single-digit weather we’re experiencing is beneficial, helping me cool and freeze all my finished stock.
Although the stock-making process is largely hands-off, it does require occasional monitoring. Battling a cold has left me low on energy, and as I plan the evening’s dinner, I’m craving something warm, comforting and not too labor-intensive. Looking at the abundance of chicken I bought for my tori chintan, I recalled a dish I enjoyed last November during my trip to France: Coq au vin.
Coq au vin is a deeply comforting and nourishing cold-weather dish, known for its tender meat and intensely flavorful sauce. Originating in the Burgundy region, the name literally means “cock in wine,” referring to its initial purpose: as a way making a delicious, tender meal from a tough old rooster. Traditional coq au vin required several hours of marination in red wine and a lengthy, slow braise to make it tender enough to chew. The acids in the wine helped denature the meat’s proteins.
Since I can’t get my hands on an old rooster, I’ll substitute dark meat (thighs and drumsticks) and braise the more tender chicken parts for a shorter time. I’ll make a recipe for four; my wife and I eat half tonight and have the leftovers as a quick meal next week. Coq au vin’s flavors actually deepen and improve the next day. The leftovers also reheat beautifully.
Coq au vin
Traditional coq au vin includes lardons, mushrooms and pearl onions. Lardons are made from salt-cured pork belly cut into matchsticks or cubes. Salt-cured pork belly isn’t easily available here; slab bacon makes a good substitute. Buy pre-peeled frozen pearl onions to avoid the hassle of peeling.
Four servings
Ingredients:
2 tablespoons good olive oil
¼ pound slab bacon, cut into matchsticks
4 bone-in, skin-on thighs or drumsticks
2 medium carrots, cut diagonally into 1-inch pieces
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 medium yellow onion, sliced
1 teaspoon chopped garlic
½ bottle dry red wine
1 cup good chicken stock, preferably homemade
10 fresh thyme sprigs
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 ½ tablespoon all-purpose flour
1 cup frozen pearl onions
½ pound cremini mushrooms, stems removed and thickly sliced
Preparation:
Preheat the oven to 275 F (or 250 F if using a convection oven)
Pat the chicken dry with paper towels. Season all over with salt and pepper.
Heat the olive oil in a large Dutch oven over medium heat. Add the bacon until lightly browned, about eight minutes. Remove with a slotted spoon and transfer to a plate, then add the chicken pieces to the Dutch oven in a single layer, skin-side down. When nicely browned, turn over and repeat on the other sides. Transfer to the plate with the bacon.
Cook the carrots and onions in the pan over medium heat for 10 to 12 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the onions are lightly browned. Season with 2 teaspoons of salt and 1 teaspoon of pepper. Stir in the garlic and cook for an additional minute.
Return the chicken (skin-side down in one layer), the bacon, and any accumulated juices back into the pot. Pour in the wine and chicken stock, then add the thyme and bring the mixture to a simmer. Cover the pot tightly and transfer to the oven for 30 to 40 minutes, or until the chicken is no longer pink. Once cooked, remove the pot from the oven and place it on the stovetop.
Make a beurre manié: Mash the butter and flour together into a paste, then stir it into the braising liquid. Add the frozen pearl onions.
In a dry skillet, cook the mushrooms over medium-high heat until they release their liquid and begin to brown, stirring occasionally. Add these browned mushrooms to the stew. Bring the stew to a simmer and continue to cook for 10 minutes. Finally, taste the broth and adjust the seasoning with salt and pepper as necessary.
Serve hot with potatoes, noodles, or crusty bread to soak up the sauce.
Coq au vin can be refrigerated for up to three days. Before reheating, the sauce should be degreased. This can be done by spooning out the congealed fat. To reheat, turn the chicken pieces skin-side up and bake in the oven for 30 minutes at 325 F.
After a 40-year career in dentistry, Dr. Peter Glatz retired at 66 to pursue his lifelong passion of becoming a chef. Over the next seven years, he pursued this lifelong passion, gaining professional experience in acclaimed kitchens across the country. His journey from the precision of dentistry to the creativity of culinary arts proves that it’s never too late to reinvent oneself.
This article appears in February 19-25, 2026.
