Directions: |
Directions:Serve over rice. Better if made the night before.
Pat the chicken breasts dry; season with salt and pepper; heat oil in a large heavy skillet.
Melt butter in a large Dutch oven; stir in flour; cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until roux is a rich brown.
Add chopped vegetables to the roux and stir until soft.
Slowly add the broth; stir until smooth.
Add chicken and seasonings.
Cover and simmer about 1 hour, stirring occasionally.
Add mushrooms 10 minutes before serving. |
Personal
Notes: |
Personal
Notes: If it were possible I would spend at least one week, twice a year, in Louisiana. Well...it's hard to think of two weeks that are reliably cool enough to make the trip enjoyable. Perhaps in either December or January. February is dominated by Mardi Gras madness. New Orleans is unlike any other city in the country. The music, the history, the architecture, the atmosphere, and the food are ethereal. The antebellum plantations on the Old River Road next to the Mississippi River are beautiful and yet tragedy hovers above the Live Oak alleys leading to each house. The storied ghosts who inhabit so many of the houses seem to be almost within reach.
The Denison High School French Club lumbered its way for 12 hours in a school bus to the Crescent City when I was 17. We stayed at the Roosevelt Hotel in the French Quarter. Three of us went to the hotel's Fountain Lounge to see a so-so singer called John Davidson. When the waiter came to take our drink order I couldn't think of anything but a "Grasshopper," which I had remembered from a movie. The waiter didn't ask for ID's but probably smiled to himself when he delivered big martini glasses filled with a vile mixture of cream and Creme de Menthe!
Subsequent trips included a rare opportunity to see the King Tut exhibit in the New Orleans Museum of Art in 1977. Jeffrey was a year old. He had been as cooperative as any baby could be waiting outside, in line, for three hours... He had peacefully gone to sleep in his umbrella stroller like a good boy.... if only they had let us take the stroller inside the exhibit. He had a strong healthy cry. We felt his pain, but it was our one and only chance to see Tut. Poor Jeffrey cried and struggled for what seemed to be a long time, but we saw the whole exhibit. I hope the other museum visitors understood.
This recipe is another from Cotton Country.
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