Chicken with the Bull

We hadn't seen Le Taureau, one of Bruce's uncles in waiting, for ages so he came over for a mid-week Julia meal. Things took longer than I wanted them to, even peeling the peas seemed to take forever (or maybe this was because it happened in front of the television).

Menu
Poulet Sauté
Petit Pois Frais III
Navets À La Champenoise
Gratin de Poireaux
Balsamic Tomatoes
Bavarois À L'Orange

I was determined to reclaim turnips, after the last bitter experience, and Julia assures that this recipe is what turns most turnip hate to love. Le Gourmand countered that there was probably no point in persisting with a vegetable that requires such a vast amount of attention to taste edible. In this case the attention involved sauteeing blanched bacon and adding onion to soften before adding flour, sugar, sage and seasoning, then beef stock and the lightly boiled turnips to the saucepan to gently simmer for 20 minutes. It tasted much better and less bitter than the last turnips but still not a dish I would rush to cook again.

The peas were slowly cooked with shreded lettuce, green onions, butter, sugar, salt and pepper and covered with water. They tasted fine but I have enjoyed the other pea recipes more. Luckily Le Taureau is a big pea fan so he ensured there were no pesky leftovers (not sure how boiled lettuce reheats and not sure I want to know).

Le Taureau had helpfully read me instructions on how to cut my chicken into frying pieces. Stupidly I forgot that I had a boning knife, which might have been useful, opting instead for a pair of kitchen shears and my hands. Eventually the chicken was in pieces (next time I suspect the convenience of Chicken Marylands will win over the dismembering approach) and I was able to start frying it in butter and oil before seasoning the chicken with thyme, covering it and leaving it to cook over a moderate heat. Once that was done I poured out most of the fat, added some chopped shallots and then some white wine and stock, reducing it to a jus.

The real hero on the plate was the leek gratin. Leeks were braised and then rolled in ham before being covered in egg and cream and sprinkled with cheese and being baked in the oven. It was amazing. I would cook it again in a heart beat (possibly a slightly clogged heart beat, I kept ignoring Le Taureau's question about how much butter had been used in the meal). The three of us gobbled it up with the rest of the meal.

And then the moment of truth - would the bavarois collapse in a milky heap? Le Gourmand thought this was a distinct possibility. With great care we chose a serving platter that would not see the bavarois spilling onto the floor. Le Taureau dipped the mould in hot water for the prescribed second and then carefully ran a knife around the outside before unmoulding. Success! The flavour? Fantastic. We all had second helpings. My cautious optimism in gelatin was restored.