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Hey good-lookin', whatcha got cookin', how'sabout cookin' something up with me and my Cooking with Soup Cookbook #YeOldenTimeCooking
($@$%##^&&** twitter rotating all my images @#$^#$)
ANYWAY here's what a soup company thought was French in 1963. Note that it's got TWO cans to open (soup and tomatoes) and WINE. A whole 2 TABLESPOONS.
Got all my 'gredients - flour, wine, soup, tomatoes, onion, and "chicken parts." (I used thighs but like the old adage says, "parts is parts.")
I did NOT have poultry seasoning. But since the recipe called for so little, I fudged it by looking for "poultry seasoning ingredients" and pretty much the whole Google world agreed it was mostly sage and some thyme, plenty of which I had on hand. (GET IT, THYME ON MY HANDS)
Started browning the onion and "dusted" the chicken parts. Note that Google was not helpful in telling me the difference between "dusting" and "dredging" but I figure either way it means to put some flower on those puppies and shake off the excess.
Panned 'em, browned 'em, and thought what a pity it was that I would be softening this nice brown goodness with a soupy sauce, but the show must go on.
One thing I've learned is that when you're cooking with soup, the moment you add the soup is the moment when you truly question if what you're doing is right, edible, or sane. The SHWOMP of the soup, the glutenous mass lying there before slowly melting... #deargodwhathaveIdone
The add-the-soup moment is a good time to add wine to the cook, and this time we're going to add it to the dish too. Shameless plug for Lucas Vinyards, my absolute favorite Fingerlakes winery. (Try their riesling!) I added a couple glugs to the dish and a few more to my glass.
Once again, a pleasant surprise when the cook time was over and I lifted the lid. The chicken was cooked, the sauce looked terrific, and a little sample of the sauce tasted great. No need to add any other seasonings before serving.
Looked pretty good on the plate. There was a LOT of sauce and I wished I made potatoes instead of pretzel rolls for the evening's starch.
Hubby, my test subject who still doesn't know he's part of an experiment in mid-century culinary horrors, said it was really good and that I should make it again some time. He even ate the leftover chicken for lunch the next day. (He does not, generally, eat leftovers.)
I'd saved some of the sauce and had my own lunch with the gravy on a baked potato the second day after, and it was just as tasty and savory. It's a keeper, but for our blood pressure's sake, I think I'd go with the low-sodium version next time. *fin*
