12 October 2011

fresh; or why the French manage simplicity in food & clothing

as the onslaught of fall and approaching winter beckon, fresh veggies become in shorter supply. Each never-ending zucchini and slightly wrinkled fresh tomato look sad, up to the point when they simply don't exist anymore. Sometimes those late vegetables burst with flavor and other times their colder ripening environment require a bit of coaxing for the best flavors. Cooking often inspires complex flavors and new ideas (foam courses at obscene prices, anyone), but sometimes the simplest of dishes work so wonderfully you wonder why anyone bothers to change them.

Roast chicken, slathered in butter and with crispy skin. Baked potato with a crispy outer jacket that inspires late night cravings. Steak, lightly grilled so that the center is barely warm and with red juices dripping. So little is required for the classics, which is precisely why they are classic. Simple, allowing the flavors of the food to shine through without too much aid, is often a staple in my house.
Simple works just as well with clothes, sometimes, too. Yeah, yeah, I like to layer fur and leather and lace all into one outfit just like the next girl, but there's a reason the French are often considered arbiters of style. Simple but elegant, so many books are published on how to dress, eat, act, whatever like a French woman, you'd think they were all backed by the French tourism board. That spills over into the cookbook publishers, too. Sometimes everyone wants to be French. Sometimes, everyone wants to just look or cook like we're French.

I tend to do the simple French thing more in cooking than dressing, and all too often attempt to do it for my friends. Who doesn't want to just pop something in the oven, pour a glass of wine, welcome friends, then pop something out of the oven and sit down to eat. It's the basic rule of cooking and entertaining: things are way more fun for the host if he or she isn't stuck in the kitchen while everyone else is socializing.

At my house, things are a bit easier, as the kitchen bleeds into the living room and there's no where else for anyone to go. However, it's still much better to have some delicious scents wafting out of your oven and be able to greet guests (even the closest of friends) already looking pretty. This Provencal-inspired chicken dish is one of those sorts of dishes.

I planned a dinner party for some girlfriends and wanted to make use of the still available late-season veggies...but I wanted to pretend to be French, or at least eat like were were all on vacation there. I ended up separating the chicken from the vegetables for serving, plating the chicken on a beautiful platter and tossing the veg into a bowl, then making a gravy out of the pan juices, and putting everything next to crusty bread and garlic mashed potatoes. However, you could just as easily serve rice or couscous alongside or even toss a number of baby red potatoes right in with the rest and serve from the baking dish.
 Chicken Provencal (will serve 4, increase or decrease the amount of veg and chicken for your serving number, or use rabbit for a gamier flavor)
3 chicken breasts, with skin on
2 zucchini
1 lemon
1 onion (Valida, Spanish, or red)
3 large tomatoes
4 cloves garlic
2 teaspoons dried rosemary, partially crushed
4-6 tablespoons olive oil

wash and cut the zucchini into just larger than bite-sized pieces, either rounds or wedges. Core and cut the tomatoes into eighths. slice the lemon thinly into rounds. Peel and cut the onion into eight wedges. Smash and peel the garlic cloves, but leave generally whole. Toss all the vegetables in a large baking dish. You will want enough room for the veg to generally be one layer. Sprinkle with rosemary, kosher salt, and a generous measure of cracked pepper.
Cut the breasts into third or large pieces. If using thighs and/or legs, leave whole. Place on top of vegetable mixture, nestling the chicken between the veggies. Place in a 400 degree oven and roast for about an hour. Test chicken for doneness, as the juices will run clear when it is fully cooked. If the mix looks to be getting too dry, add some white wine, chicken stock, or water. If it is too juicy, turn the oven to 425 degrees and baste the chicken with the juices to keep it from drying out. Let cook until you have the desired amount of pan juices (relatively dry if serving with rice or couscous, lots of juice to make gravy). Simplicity does the trick, each and every time.

 "Be well. Do good work. Keep in touch." - Garrison Keillor

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