An amazing night at the Donmar, watching Derek Jacobi as Malvolio (the yellow stockings! the smile!) in his element, in an unexpected comedic turn in “Twelfth Night.” The last thing Avery’s constitution needed, on Thursday night, after a week that included the inaugural festivities late into the night, was another adventure before a much-delayed bedtime. But just you TRY to get tickets to the play on a weekend! It can’t be done. So there we were. It is without a doubt one of the most enjoyable theatre evenings of our experience, so go if you can. A marvellous jester with a beautiful voice, quite a convincing pair in Viola and Sebastian, but Jacobi is the star, big surprise. At times he had the demeanor of Lane, the famously unflappable butler of “The Importance of Being Earnest,” or Bunter of Lord Peter Wimsey fame, but then the appearance of the life-changing love letter brings out all the humor. You’ll love it. Avery was in heaven. As we clapped and clapped, she said softly, “That’s definitely what I want to do.”
To think I played Viola in college! How could I have so little memory of the play? Every once in awhile a line came back to me, but let’s be honest, it’s 25 years ago at best.
What else has been happening? A couple of failed dinners (never buy cheap prawns for a fancy Thai dish, someone print that on a t-shirt and sell it; not enough cream in tonight’s carbonara, but still edible), punctuated with a sublime if mistaken version of my ever-changing “slow-braised chicken.” Two weeks ago I asked John to put it in the oven for me and we arrived at home that night to find that a recipe that called for a CUP of white wine had been transformed into one including an entire BOTTLE of white wine, as well as the usual tablespoon of butter used to rub the inside of the pot being transformed into an entire BLOCK of butter, about a half cup. THAT was a nice version of the recipe!
The latest innovation occurred when yesterday I put together the dish, clapped the lid on, and left the house to take Avery to the ice rink. Then I called John and said in shame, “I forgot to put the chicken in the oven. Would you turn the oven to 120C [240F] and stick it in?” No problem, it was on time.
Something, however, prompted me to call several hours later to check to see how the chicken was going. “It should smell marvellous by now!” I assured him, and was surprised to be met with total silence. “What? Is it overdone?” I asked. “You won’t believe this, I am SO sorry,” my beloved said. “I turned on the wrong oven.”
So… slow-braised chicken became FAST-braised chicken, and in two hours at 200 C, 400F, it was lovely. Not quite as melting, but lovely. And the chicken soup for lunch today was sublime. So fear not, you can do almost anything to this recipe and be home SAFE. Good luck, and remember: a mistake is only a variation, told the wrong way! Avery and I decided that if I hadn’t called home that afternoon, and we’d been willing to wait about two weeks for dinner, we’d have had “REALLY Slow-Braised Chicken.”
Slow-Braised Chicken With Root Vegetables
(serves four for dinner, plus soup)
1 large chicken
1 bunch fresh thyme
3 parsnips
5 cloves garlic
1 onion
3 carrots
handful new potatoes
1 bottle nice white wine
1 cup chicken broth
butter
Maldon salt and black pepper
Butter the inside of the large pot. Place the bunch of thyme on the bottom and put the chicken BREAST DOWN on top of it. Separate your garlic, peel it and whack a few cloves with your knife, then slice your parsnips, onions and carrots as you like them. Throw them all around the chicken, with the potatoes. Pour a good cup of wine over all, then the chicken stock. Season it all well.
Place in a very low oven (120 C, 240 F) with the lid on. Cook for at least three hours, but any time after three hours the oven may be turned off and the chicken left to rest. Just before serving, turn the chicken over very carefully (it will tend to fall apart) and remove the broth-soaked skin and discard. Place a pat of butter on the breast and put the lid back on so that it melts. When you are ready to eat, carve the bites you like best and serve with a baguette to soak up the juices, while drinking the rest of the wine.
Pull the extra meat from the bones and save them for sandwiches, then cover everything in the pot with water and simmer for at least two hours for the best chicken soup of your life.
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I feel like I need a vacation from my weekend! Yesterday we walked over four miles after dropping Avery off just past Holland Park, at her new friend Sophia’s gorgeous house (more on that later), and then when I went to fetch her I decided to get on the phone to my mama and walk all the way there. Today if I were not surrounded by cleaning lady and electrician checking all our bits and pieces, I would be flat out on the sofa with a hot water bottle and a kitty. It could still happen, when everyone abandons me.
And Avery’s been invited to play at Jade’s house on Friday! How nice. Her glamourous mum approached me at dropoff this morning, never my favorite time of day to chat but oh well, and said, “How would Friday be? Right, good. Sorted. Lovely. Bye!” and I felt like I’d been hit by a steamroller. Unlike at PS 234, no one here has yet learned that I should never be asked to make plans at 8:15 in the morning because there’s such a significant chance that I will not remember a thing I said…
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