Perry chicken

I can hold my hands up and say without any grievances that I caused the argument that I was now having with my husband over the phone in the supermarket.

Not being fully aware that I was standing hovering over the onions while I was having this mildly heated discussion, it bypassed my attention that a small queue was forming behind me. Whether these bystanders were bending an ear towards my gradually rising irritating voice or just genuinely waiting in line to pick their shallots, who knows but after an ' interrupt me and suffer the consequences' glance thrown at them by me they dispersed blindly, almost knocking one another aside in an attempt to avoid the wrath of the crazy lady screaming down her phone in the veg section.

When my other have often tells folk that we don't argue, I always worry that it comes across quite smug so I usually cut across this with ' but we always bicker about the most studied of things ‘as a way of making us seem as vulnerable as any other couple, the truth is we don't really fall out but the one thing that always seems to ruin our domestic bliss is the subject of food.

I don't wish to bore you with all the laborious details and neither will I talk mind - numbingly on about the problem at hand, but the main gist is after weeks of fresh baguette and butter for supper on a Saturday night, I had wholeheartedly been promising that this
Weekend was going to be different. Whilst I had bravely proclaimed that three courses were to be made I left it to the hands of the gods of the local market to decide what those three courses were to contain, once again ignoring the planning ahead side of my brain.

As you can probably gather, the market (or most likely, my lack of intuition) had left me with no inspiration or brainwave of an idea for an outstanding evening meal so when the phone call came from R in anticipation of the fine cuisine meal I was supposed to be planning for him, I was a little more than on the defensive as any frantically eager to please female would know.

‘So then babe, what's for tea? '

I hesitated before I retorted with my meagre mannered plea-

' Well there wasn't really anything I thought you would fancy from the market, so how about I just get some bread and some of your favourite nibbles? '

I think it was the pause that had instigated his immediate response, or it could of been my use of the word 'nibbles' that prompted his irritated reply  -

' You told me, no you PROMISED me a proper sit down meal, not one that we can just politely pick at like guests at our own buffet style party '.

And so this how it carried on, my building frustration stomped me from the onions where I zig zagged impatiently round the Saturday shoppers in the ready meal section until I reached the multi optional choices of the yoghurt shelves where I proceeded to throw my backside against the clammy handle of the shopping trolley and admit defeat to an annoyingly correct husband.

It took until the baked goods section until we had reached a solution, yes I may have used the chilled cabinet for some divine inspiration but it was a welcoming end to an unnecessary affair. Reconciling affectionately, I released the phone from my ear and gained awareness of my surroundings. The crowd that had been noticeably following a short distance behind me were now inconspicuously passing me, some giving me glowing looks of encouragement and others avoiding me like the plague.

Perry Chicken – serves 2

Instead of opting for the traditional chicken in a white wine sauce (and inspired by the special offer on the vintage ciders), an intriguing bottle of Perry came to mind as an interesting alternative. In the most discreet and elegantly disguised way, the Perry imparts a delicately fruity flavour to the dish which not only empowers the chicken but rounds off the cream sauce quite perfectly.
Ever the fan of a spot of home butchery, I always lean towards buying a whole chicken and dissecting it to my own requirements, generally freezing the bits that are not intended for usage straight away. And although my earlier frustration was now dying out, the sinister sensation of a bit of knife wielding was welcoming – better to vent my feelings on a local free range chicken than on my other half.
I have in the past deemed the simple potato as boring and ineffective, but since growing our own Cheshire’s my senses have been re - awoken to the potential powers that they evoke, especially when served with a rich and intense dish as this. ‘Behind every great man there is a great woman' and behind every great chicken dish there is a great potato dish.

4 chicken pieces of your choice. This may include – chicken thighs, drumsticks, legs or breast
2 cloves of garlic, peeled and crushed
Olive oil
Salt and pepper
200ml Perry/cider
200ml chicken stock
¾ tablespoons of double cream – depending on how naughty your feeling!
250g mushrooms
Knob of butter
1 large handful of chopped tarragon and parsley (if available)

Heat the oil in the pan and add the crushed garlic, taking care not to let it burn.
Season your chicken pieces and add them to the pan, allowing them to brown on all sides. This should take about 8 – 10 mins. Once coloured all over, remove the chicken and the garlic from the pan. Keeping the pan on the heat add the Perry and allow to reduce by about a third.  Whilst waiting for the alcohol to burn off, half your mushrooms and pop them into another pan with a knob of butter sauté until slightly coloured.
Once the Perry has reduced put your browned chicken and mushrooms back into the pan with the Perry in and add the chicken stock and the cream. Your chicken pieces should be just covered by the liquid, if not add a little more stock. Bring the mixture to the boil then cover with a well fitted lid, turn down the heat and leave to simmer away for around 30 -35 minutes until the chicken is cooked.

 Once the creamy sauce has reduced and thickened add your chopped herbs and serve preferable with some freshly dug up boiled new potatoes.