If cooked chicken could talk, the conversation might go something like this.
"Hello. My name is Chicken Diable.
I am not much to look at, but I taste really good...
Of course, it probably would help if I weren't served with such a monotone palette of foods and the dolphin plate is so. not. sexy."
However, one should never judge a chicken by its surroundings.
Pretty is as pretty does.
It's what's on the inside that matters.
Be open minded.
When that chicken is simmered in a sauce of shallots, vermouth, heavy cream and spicy grainy mustard, there is more to it than meets the eye.
Easy enough for a weeknight meal. Elegant enough for a weekend.
While not the most photogenic sides around, the balsamic roasted carrots & parsnips and rye focaccia rounded out the meal rather nicely. The empty plates bore evidence to that fact.
I am still scratching my head over the "diable" element of this recipe. Grainy mustard was not what I envisioned from the title. I was thinking hot peppers or something like that. Not mustard.
Not that I am complaining. I am a mustard kind of girl. No mayo for me on that turkey sandwich - mustard all the way.
This post participates in French Fridays with Dorie.
Post Script: Strong antibiotics may have been partially responsible for the talking chicken at the beginning of this post. That stuff has some wacky effects on the thinking process. Just sayin'