Something Ain’t So Worst: My First Coq Au Vin

Been saying it for years, dear worst-reader. Gotta make this. Although I’ve enjoyed this dish many times, either made by others or at fine dinning places around #Eurowasteland, I hadn’t yet embarked on doing it myself. And don’t get me wrong here. It’s not that I’m claiming in any worst-way that I’m, you know, a cook, don’t you know. At best, I only enjoy the drinking that accompanies cooking and, of course, the continued drinking that coincides–which is even better when I screw up as I can drawn my sorrows. There’s just something about a kitchen, a grill, organising ingredients, which includes shopping for those ingredients where rich women shop, chopping stuff with a fine knife, and keeping things clean compared to how others cook, that gets under my gander–and gets me in my kitchen. Did I mention the self-medicated drinking part that goes so well with cooking? Yeah, that’s a whole ‘nother worst-post, don’t you know.

So I finally gave it a try the other day. I gave it a try not only because of my lust for France. No. Or the memory of that girl in Paris that blew my mind–so many years ago–who actually made fresh croissants right in front of me while butt naked and it was the only thing we ate for three days between some of the most beautiful love making I’ve ever known. No. Cooking is just a great thing to know how to do–or even to what to do–including loving Paris. And for a first try, if I may worst-add, it came out pretty good. My only criticism of the recipe (see below), is the amount of butter required. I’m not crazy about cooking with butter–even though I watched Julia Child on black/white TV in the 70s abuse the stuff. I’m gonna have to study-up on this dish to see if I can make it with less butter. Nomatter.

Btw, the pic on the left above I took while flambéing the chicken, just before adding the sauces (self-made chicken broth and reduced wine marinate). As you can see, I had a bit trouble with the flames as they scorched the back panel of my stove top–almost ruining or enhancing a picture of sage.

Rant and cook on, baby.


Here’s the recipe I followed:

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