My favourite chicken recipe of all times. It’s an riff on a recipe from A Book of Mediterranean Food by Elizabeth David: Pollo in Padella con Peperoni.
In her recipe David uses a whole chicken cut into pieces, while I tend to use just thighs, drumsticks, and sometimes wings. The dark meat of these cuts adds an extra dimension to the dish. It also helps balancing the sweetness of the sauce, to which a splash of white Vermouth is added (my call). In addition to the thyme and basil that the original recipe calls for, I included a few tarragon leaves: used sparingly, they really give freshness to the dish without covering the other flavours.
For years June marked the end of the school year and the beginning of a time that seemed to stretch infinitely. Long, sleepy days were filled with lots of reading and plenty of boredom – I now struggle to remember what that felt like.
June also stated the beginning of the procession to Grandma’s house to pick vegetables from her garden. As soon as the humid heat of the Venetian countryside had settled in for the following three months, the garden started to go bonkers in all possible good ways. Tomatoes and courgettes were popping up by the minute, and required daily watering and harvesting. Green and runner beans could grow too big and stringy in a couple of hours, and the lettuce would turn tough and inedible if not cut promptly.
The cucumbers, as long as my arm and almost as large, were also pretty needy, and the aubergines and peppers would become all wrinkly under the burning midday sun in a matter of minutes. In a mad rush against time, I was there almost every day, right before sunset or as soon as the temperature of the soil had decreased to a simmer rather than a boil. Each time, I was getting enough produce to make a side dish or salad for our family’s evening meal, as well as for lunch the following day. Usually more. We certainly ate way beyond the five-a-day.