Chicken Veronique

February 18, 2002

I was overjoyed to return to work after the weekend - to have a rest. I spent the weekend on an exercise labelled "reducing the clutter." Basically this meant going round the house and removing the odd piece of furniture, packing away books without shelves to call home, culling the wardrobe and having a blitz on the garage. The removal men will store some of our belongings for a month or two until the main house-shift, but real estate agents advise that "reducing the clutter" makes a house look larger and more attractive.

My idea of clutter reduction would have been hiding all the ornaments (not that I am a great ornament collector anyway - I hate dusting). No, I was told. Things like that make the place look lived in, a nice comfortable home. Leave the photos, the mementos, the herb garden on the windowsill.

Reducing the clutter also meant dispatching the cartons we've never opened. I had to have a peek and there were many beloved cookbooks that necessitated an hour's inspection, and some old photo albums that might have taken up the rest of the day had I not disciplined myself.

I cooked a final roast in the oven before it was cleaned. Now I will have to use the lidded roasting pan - oops, it's gone west with the clutter.

One of my very early efforts in the kitchen many years ago was a classic dish, Chicken Veronique. The term Veronique refers to a dish garnished with grapes and my set of Cordon Bleu cooking course books (which came in weekly parts over about 20 months) suggested the dish as something to serve when the in-laws came for dinner. I didn't have in-laws at the time, but the dish was a great dinner party success when presented to friends.

My Cordon Bleu books are still sitting in our house in the north, but here is the version I was producing when I wrote a cookbook of my own when my now 22-year-old son was a baby.

I think it would make a nice Easter dinner dish.

Chicken Veronique

1 large chicken
1 onion
3 tablespoons butter
sprig French tarragon
350ml chicken stock
250ml white wine (a buttery chardonnay would be ideal)
125ml cream
2 cups grapes
1 tablespoon flour

Thaw the bird and use the giblets, neck etc to make the chicken stock.

Wipe out the inside of the bird and sprinkle with salt. Peel and cut the onion in quarters and place inside the chicken with the tarragon and a tablespoon of butter.

Truss the bird and melt the remaining butter, spooning it over the chicken.

Put half the stock and half the wine in a roasting pan or large casserole. Lie the bird on its side and covered with buttered paper.

Preheat the oven to 175C and let the bird cook for 15 minutes. Turn it on its other side and cook a further quarter hour then place it on its back and cook a another hour. Run a skewer into the flashy part of the leg and if the fluid comes out bloody, give the bird an extra 10 or 15 minutes' cooking.

Throughout, baste from time to time with the wine/stock/butter mix. Remove the paper for the last 10 minutes of cooking.

Remove the bird to a carving dish and allow to rest for 10 minutes.

Add the remaining stock and wine to the roasting dish (or pour it into a pot) and let it boil until it reduces down to about half the volume. Stir in the flour which has been mixed to a cream with a .little water.

While the chicken is cooking you should peel and de-pip the grapes (a sterilised paperclip loop works for this). Add the grapes to the sauce and let them warm through, then add the cream and bring to a simmer - but don't let it boil.

This chicken dish is great with new potatoes, or with fluffy white rice or wild rice. Some carrots and while green beans would be a good accompaniment - nothing to overpower the delicate flavour of the chicken and grape sauce.