First, did you know there's such a thing as the "Umami Information Center?" It's predictably amateurish and is clearly the project of specialists with terrible social skills and the dating lives of eunuchs. Pity them.
There is actually little reason for controversy over the (SO CALLED) Alfredo sauce - it was "invented" by Alfredo Di Lelio for his restaurant, Alfredo, in Rome in 1914. The "Alfredo" was in reference to his restaurant/his name/his ego and had little to do with the actual ingredients, which were fabulously minimal. The original recipe was (pause a moment): fettuccine + butter + Parmesan cheese, which was tossed while the pasta was still hot and moist, allowing the melted butter and the cheese to form a smooth white sauce that evenly coated the noodles. I've never had it, but it (and its descendant in his follow-up venture, Il Vero Alfredo) is reputed to have been quite tasty by the types of assholes who write travel guidebooks.
Of course, white sauces made of Parmesan cheese and butter had existed before Alfredo's fortuitous combination, and are still generally just called "in bianco". In fact, before the importation of the tomato and pepper a short few centuries ago, there wouldn't have been a lot of options other than cheese, herbs and oil of some sort (see pesto), so take that "invention" line as skeptically as you wish.
My main problem with Alfredo's recipe is that it's terribly boring conceptually and I can't exactly write up a blog post telling people to just mix cheese and butter. It'd take seconds and, (admit it), you'd never read me again. Even the Pinterest crowd would spit on me.
You may also notice that I fail to mention any sort of roux here. Although the combination of flour and butter that forms the base of so many amazing dishes and sauces is generally indispensable, I've actually dispensed with it here to let the other flavors shine as they may. Seriously, it won't need a thickener, and roux based white sauces tend to be kind of pasty and filling. Yes, this is actually the light version.
So, in the interest of keeping you impressed with me, I've complicated the recipe a bit, but it's really, really worth it.
A warning (see above):
Use boneless-skinless chicken thighs (see above...) for this recipe. First, when you brown them, they're fattier and release the oils that you're going to use to flavor your sauce. Plus, bits stick to the pan, get hard and taste like bacon cracklins. You're welcome.
You'll also want to prepare the ingredients beforehand so you'll have them ready to go at the appropriate moment. If the butter is burning and you're still chopping onions, shame on you (see above).
A suggestion:
Why not saute some mushrooms to go with it too? Or bacon. Bacon. Bacon (see above).
Another suggestion:
This pairs well with wine. But make it something heavy enough to handle the cheeses.
INGREDIENTS
4 boneless skinless chicken thighs, thawed
olive oil
salt
pepper
lemon wedge
Fettuccine or Spaghetti noodles
1/4 c minced shallot or onion
3 crushed garlic cloves
1/2 c butter
1/3-1/2 c light cream
1/2 c milk
3/4 c shredded Parmesan cheese (off the block is best, not the powdered stuff)
1/4 c Keshkaval/Romano/Provolone, etc. (something with a bit of umami to it - admittedly, the website dedicated to promoting "umami" does a terrible job of explaining it - just make sure the cheese is a bit funky)
salt
pepper
The Chicken:
Step 1:
Heat a large flat bottomed (saute) pan on medium high heat until it's quite toasty (if you have a coated pan, this may not be a good idea since you'll burn off your non-stick surface), then add olive oil and salt. I salt the oil to ensure my meat is uniformly seasoned.
Step 2:
Add the chicken to the oil once it heats, spreading out the thighs with your spatula or fork or anything other than your hand for Christ's sake and let them brown nicely without fiddling with them too much. Add the pepper and a squeeze of lemon juice on them towards the end and let them cook a bit to form a crust and make your pan look like a nightmare.
When they're done, (firm, not spongey), put them on a plate and set aside. Hopefully there's a bunch of brown gunk stuck on the bottom of the pan, which you'll want for your sauce - but you can also scrape up a bit of it as a garnish (again, it tastes like bacon!)
Let the pan cool a bit.
The Pasta:
Start boiling water with some salt and olive oil. Begin cooking the pasta early, but remember you'll need it just past al dente so keep an eye on it. Hopefully it'll finish at roughly the same time as the sauce. Drain it when it's done, salt and add a bit of olive oil to keep it from forming a Gordian pasta knot.
The Sauce
Make the sauce last. Why? Because I said so dammit. Also, because you want the sauce hot and not all congealed on the bottom of the pan when you plate up.
Step 1:
Heat the pan on medium heat with all of the residual the olive oil, salt, lemon juice, pepper, and chicken crud, then add the butter and deglaze the pan a bit (scrape it to dislodge the crud and dissolve it into the butter). The butter will take on a golden hue, at which point you toss in the finely minced shallot and cook for about 30 seconds until they soften a bit. Now add the garlic and cook for another 30 seconds, trying to keep it from burning.
Step 2:
Turn down the heat a bit, then add in the cream, stirring to mix it, then immediately add the cheeses. Stir until they are melted, then add the milk until the mixture is smooth.
Step 3:
Crack some pepper over the top and salt it if it needs it (it shouldn't, but you don't want to underseason your food). Fresh parsley is a nice touch, if you're so inclined.
Plate it up with the pasta on bottom, sauce next, then the chicken, thinly sliced over the top. Seriously, this is damn good and really easy to make.
