Thus far, every meat meal I've done was begun with trepidation and ended with me admitting that it wasn't all that terrifying after all. Not so with the chicken breasts, or "supremes" as the French call them. This was every bit as horrifying as I feared it would be and more. The worst part is that I have three chicken breasts left in my fridge and I just don't think I have the strength to try another meal with them.
I got this recipe from Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking. I was drawn to it because of a scene in Julie and Julia where Julie makes the dish. It just looked so mouthwatering. It's the scene where she learns, "Don't crowd the mushrooms. Otherwise they won't brown."
This is a Julia recipe, so of course we start with lots of butter.
I couldn't bear to photograph the raw chicken. Just know I was squealing in horror and disgust as I maneuvered them into the skillet. I briefly considered throwing away the tongs I was using, but I only just got them and they're really nice. But here's a shot of the beautiful sliced mushrooms in bubbling butter.
Then I added in heavy cream and Madeira wine, which I got carded when purchasing (yay!)
After the sauce thickened, I popped the cooked supremes back into the sauce. Julia's instructions said to spoon the sauce over them, but in the movie Julie nestled them into the sauce and it looked delish.
And here's the final product. I was so stressed from dealing with raw chicken that I didn't even make a vegetable.
It was really delicious, but I don't know if I can make it again for a few years. That chicken really put me through it. I'm gonna need some time to recover.
3 comments:
Oh no, there is an art to picking chicken out of that wretched meat section that won't leave you so squeamish.
1. First, you help yourself to 20 of those baggies from the produce section and put them on like gloves (10 per hand).
2. Pick the chicken package up by the very edges and look at it as little as possible, despite your mother's insistence that she wants 97% lean and not 92%.
3. Use those same baggies that are doubling as gloves and encase the chicken in them, then give it its own segregated section of the cart.
4. Be prepared for the cashier to hate you when he/she can't scan the barcode through the multiple layers of plastic protection you've created.
5. Put the chicken by itself into 3 or 4 grocery bags (can't be too careful), clean off an entire shelf for it in your fridge, and (leaving it in all its plastic baggyness) toss it in by the very tips of your fingers.
Ta da! (Not that I have ever done any of the above.)
You know, I actually did all of that, with the exception of the brilliant baggie thing. I picked it up by the edges with two fingers whilst looking away, I segregated it in the cart (and later the fridge), and even though I used my cute reusable bags for all my other purchases, I expressly instructed the bag guy to bag the chicken in it's own double plastic. I couldn't bear the thought of some horrible substance leaking on to my cute bags. Shudder.
Next time (if there is a next time) I'm putting your baggie idea to good use.
Oh yeah, no -- definitely can't use those reusable bags. Some grocery stores have gotten wise and installed those baggie dispensers right above the meat case. I appreciate that in those stores I don't have to deal with scathing looks from people picking up their weekly amount of mealy tomatoes while I abscond with more than my fair share of plastic.
Post a Comment