I've always been a fan of Chicken Kiev. Maybe it's the garlic butter or maybe it's the roasted crumbed chicken. Or maybe it's even the fact that no-one will come near you for a kiss until the next day. But it has a certain appeal.
My best experience with a Chicken Kiev happened one day in a small country pub. As I cut into it, all the yummy garlic butter oozed out until it saturated the chips and salad. I can still taste it today.
So, hoping in some small way to replicate that feeling, I decided to serve it with chips tonight. All went well until the time came to turn the little devils over. Wouldn't you know it; those cheeky little chicken bottoms starting sticking to the pan. Okay, this is where I start to panic. But who is there to save the day (yet again?) Of course, it's my cool, calm and collected husband, who stepped in, flipped the chickens and then started setting the table.
When served up, the chicken looked scrumptious and the steamed vegies and chips suited a Friday night casual home cooked meal. Even better, the plates were empty down to the last bite.
Excuse me now. I've gotta go and gargle.
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