chicken breast with sage and thyme & rhubarb fool part one

Although midsummer is still a week away, (sadly not Midsomer), tonight feels like the longest night. This is partly due to the 4am arrival this morning of ana's son demanding milk and cuddles, plus a "little play with his guitar" We get him back into bed but the die is cast.

This evening he heartily refuses to go to sleep, claiming he's got a present for mummy, there's a tortoise in his bed and, incredibly, requiring more milk. By the time we get him settled and the washing up done it's gone half eight. The minx!

We also have fridge dilemmas. I'd failed to take into account the fact we're off for the weekend and have over-ordered. Normally this would be fine because I can chuck whatever into the freezer, but it being summer it's nearly all salad and salad don't freeze.

Tonight we're *definitely* having a zesty chicken dish I'd cooked years ago and have since forgotten. It only turned up in the Great Delicious Cull, and I reckon it's from a May Italian edition, coming as it does from Gennaro Contaldo.

It's a bit fiddly, but the results are clearly well worth it given the fact ana steals a chunk of my chicken because it's better for her than potatoes. However I noticed she didn't take any extra french beans...



Remembering the slightly harsh, over lemony sauce from last time, and the fact I almost burned the onions and sage, this time I temper the juice down with some water, which has the added bonus of keeping it all fairly moist. Mmmmm, moist.

To follow I planned to make dessert using the left-over rhubarb. A cheeky fool care of La Ramsay. Again, it's slightly fiddly but the combination of orange juice, sugar and vanilla really complement the 'barb. However the lack of milk as I was about to make the custard puts the whole thing back a day. At least the rhubarb gets to chill adequately in the fridge.

Food of the Milos
It's a Julia day today so despite claiming he was hungry on the way, he doesn't have any breakfast apart from some toast and philli. Maybe I shouldn't have bribed him out of the house with raisins and a humzinger? For lunch he struggled through a cottage pie, had some grapes as a snack but refused the Feta. When he got home ana knocked together a sausage pasta dish, but he only ate the sausages before being force-fed the pasta. As ever carrot sticks and houmous come to the rescue, followed by some strawberries.

sources
chicken breast with sage and thyme - Gennaro Contaldo, Delicious, May 2006 (or 2005)