We are in the midst of an international crisis, Coronavirus and COVID-19, and in mandatory “settle-in-place,” or required to stay home other than go to the bank and buy food, and walk. Just yesterday authorities even closed all county parks, because too many people were going there. That’s what sequestered at home will do to you. A friend, fearing an even greater lock down in San Francisco was about to be ordered, asked to come up for the weekend to escape the city. I went shopping and loaded up for options, and remembered a Wall Street Journal recipe for a lighter version of coq au vin that uses white instead of red wine. The recipe called for Sauvignon Blanc, a white I do not like, so I bought an inexpensive Chardonnay to have something to drink while cooking. It was a damn fine dish, with a couple pieces of bacon to enhance the flavor. The recipe did not call for celery but I added some to give the sauce texture. The recipe called for skin on, bone in thighs, and I am sure that would have been great, but my friend brought skinless and boneless breasts. I just adjusted the cooking time so the meat was moist, and it was. The Dijon mustard and tarragon, with copious amounts of sliced mushrooms, formed the flavor foundation of the meal. Instead of Crème Fraiche, which I didn’t have, I used sour cream to give the sauce a nice creaminess. My friends from Kermit Lynch were promoting some French wines a couple months ago and I bought a case of Morgon, a Rhone-style wine from the Beaujolais region of France between Lyon and Beaune, at the southern end of the official Burgundy region. The Morgon appellation is famous for deeply-coloured red wines from the Gamay grape. The wines are crafted exclusively in the small commune of Villie-Morgon. The wine paired beautifully with the chicken dish. It was a good meal in a cross-over season from winter to spring. The friendship and companionship was a treat. We had both been home alone for over a week. The next morning I thought about drinking that wine (I almost opened a second bottle – Jim Harrison would have approved) and resolved to go eat in France when this thing is over, this virus crisis. I’ve been to Paris twice and the Normandy coast up north. Earlier in this blog I wrote about dreaming of the South of France and drinking Rose. This is a sign, for sure. I must go there.
