Quick Tarragon Chicken

Parisian life can be almost summed up in one dish: Poulet à l’Estragon. I say almost because there are a great many dishes that sum up bistro cuisine. However, this is one that lends itself to a rose tinted vision of gingham table cloths, penguin uniformed waiters and a crisp Loire valley wine in a carafe. Light as air fluffy rice surrounds a suprême that is coated with a creamy (but not cream based) sauce that has the subtlest aniseed perfume to it. Strangely, I never cooked this whilst living my Left Bank life and only did it on return to London, adapting the recipe each time, but I have been making it since I first tasted it.

Reality however, isn’t the same as the fantasy. The bistro where I first tried this dish, was traditional and typically Parisian (you could tell from the surrounding American accents), had surly staff who would slam the plate down onto paper table cloths, caraffed wine by the colour, and constant clatter, chatter and smoke (yes, in those days you could). The chicken sauce was heavy thanks to the UHT fetish that the French seem to have, the rice grains clung to each other for dear life and the herb was dry and soulless. 

A classic dish such as this should be treated with some respect, but if you have a busy executive life then this can also be done in a slightly less respectful but equally delicious way. The alternatives are as follows: a whole roasted chicken (you can get on with other things whilst it is cooking) and then remove the breast fillets before serving (I use the legs for a salad the next day and the bones for stock); a breast fillet per guest, rubbed in oil, seasoned and individually wrapped in foil, placed in the oven for about 18minutes (use the juice in the sauce); or, breast fillets hammered flat between two sheets of greaseproof paper,  griddled  (if you are using the breast fillets only then the order is rice, sauce, chicken and the brandy flambé is not necessary).

I serve this with rice mixed with fine chopped and sweated onions.

Quick Tarragon Chicken

1 Chicken or 2 breast fillets

200ml chicken stock
200ml white wine
1 ladle of brandy
40g Tarragon (chopped but not too early as it blackens)
1 egg yolk
2Tbsp crème fraîche
Lemon juice to taste
1 onion
200g long grain rice

Oven on to 190C (375F, Gas 5)

The bird:

Remove the wings and the knuckle of the legs from the chicken. Rub the chicken with oil and salt the skin well.  Place on a trivet in a roasting tin breast side down for ¾ of the roasting time (I work to 17 minutes per pound) before turning upwards to brown the skin. This ensures the breast fillets stay moist.

The rice:

Fine chop some onion and sweat in butter and oil on a low heat until translucent. Meanwhile boil the rice. Once cooked, mix the rice and onion together and add a knob or two of butter. Cover in foil and place in a warming oven until you are ready to serve.

The sauce:

Once cooked take the chicken from the trivet and put on the bottom of the roasting tin and pour over the brandy, flambé (watch the hair/eyebrows). Once the flames have died down, remove the chicken to a warm place to rest. Deglaze the pan with the wine getting all the ‘toffee’ and flavours from the bottom then transfer the liquid to a pan. Add the stock and start to simmer.

Mix the egg and the cream together. Slake with some of the stock and wine mix, stirring constantly, and then pour it into the pan whisking all the time. The yolk is a thickening agent and should turn the cream sauce into the consistency of cream. This may take some time so don’t panic (you can tell when it begins by the coating on the base of the pan). Once it has reached the right thickness remove from the heat, taste, season adding a small squeeze of lemon juice, and stir in the chopped tarragon.

On hot plates, either spread the rice out or put it into a lightly greased container to create a mould and turn it out onto the plate off centre. Take the chicken, remove the skin from the breast fillets and cut into 3 or 5 pieces to arrange on the plate. Pour the sauce over the plate and if you have a little tarragon left over garnish with a sprig.

Serve with a surly attitude and some cheap wine and you could almost be there.