chickens and eggs…

…the economics of choosing well.

A quick note:

I never intended for this blog to be a platform for political expression, but I have always stressed that food is intertwined with history, memory, and culture. My posts will continue to reflect how I engage with the world around me because I choose not to live in a silo. To be clear, my discomfort with an unsettled economy, social injustice, artistic suppression, the demise of scientific thought, and the rise of factual manipulation is not rooted in politics.

It’s moral.

---

Over the last few months Sunday night family cocktail hour has mutated into a lively economic round table. Predictably, the discussion becomes too academic for me about 5 minutes in. Remember “Betsy Math?” Well, this ain’t that. Husband has an MBA, Sous Chef has a Masters in Business Management, and Food Taster majored in Econ with minors in both Finance and Business Administration. Those three can go at it for hours and there I sit wondering if I thawed the chicken long enough, unable to accurately reconcile my bank account. I bet I could engage if I wanted to…but honestly, I just don’t want to. The topic of money is simply not something I want spinning around in my brain, mostly because it does not spark joy. Yes, in the name of stress-free cocktail hours, I Maria Kondo-ed the economy.

Nevertheless, I hear an awful lot of chatter about the price of eggs, and for good reason. According to what’s left of the U.S. Department of Agriculture, it’s expected to increase over 40% in 2025. We are facing a long period of economic uncertainty and eggs will remain emblematic of a continuing crisis – currently, there are $7 cartons in Atlanta and $7 “loosies” or single eggs being sold in NYC bodegas. Because eggs are in so many baked goods, those costs are going up along with restaurant prices, in the form of surcharges. That’s just great. You can think of it as a harmless little domestic egg tariff if it makes you feel better, but we are all going to have to make some choices. Unfortunately, we are an egg-loving household.

Fortunately, we are also chicken folk. A proper chicken recipe can be the perfect foil to the anxiety of choice – simple and affordable but with all the flavor and decadence of haute cuisine. For this post, I chose Poulet Gaston Gerard, a quintessentially French comfort dish with a charming, but inelegant origin story born from setback and recovery. I’d say it’s perfect for any volatile economic climate when you want to pretend that everything is fine. Gaston Gerard was the deputy mayor of Dijon in 1930 when he and his wife hosted a dinner for a famous food critic named Curnonsky. Madame Gerard was preparing a Bresse chicken when heaps of paprika fell into the pot and basically ruined the recipe. However, as a skilled cook, she averted disaster with a generous dose of crème fraîche, a dollop of local mustard, and a splash of white wine. Dubbed “Poulet Gaston Gerard,” it was a hit with Curnonsky and has since remained a staple in Dijon home cooking.

Madame faced a crisis, chose a path forward, and made the ingredients she had work for her. As I’ve pondered how the threats of inflation and recession will impact our daily choices, I keep going back to a story from my book where I too manipulated the available resources to work for me. Granted, it was hardly a crisis, but economics and my appetite for creature comforts ultimately clashed in the kitchen and strangely, it wasn’t over food:

“For twenty years I have operated from a 1973 kitchen that was made for an assembly line…not a charcuterie spread, not a kitchen party, and not a cooking show. I orchestrate my creations from an old, sparsely-cabineted, poorly-designed galley with an ornery electric stovetop and a single oven. I have upgraded most of the large appliances steadily over the years, but today I take pride in my ability to outsmart a 1980s European glass cooktop that has no understanding of the word “low.” I guess that’s a little unfair – she ultimately cools down but it takes five minutes of babysitting and expletive-laced coaxing. Do I wish I had a slick designer kitchen with all the latest bells and whistles? Yes! Do I deserve it? You betcha. But do I need it? Nope…not even a little.”

Here’s the deal: a few years ago Husband offered me a new cooktop for Christmas, but I opted for a Peloton bike instead. My logic was that I was doing just fine with the kitchen I had…too fine, in fact, because we had all gained 10 pounds. I also knew I had the chops to make a few cosmetic upgrades on my own, so my choice wasn’t sacrificial at all – it was additive. Not only did I get a machine to reduce the effects of cheese soufflés, Indonesian fried chicken, and red wine braised short ribs, but also I was motivated to update the decor myself and on the cheap (relatively). It comes down to choosing what’s vital, what’s important, and what’s discretionary. I think I made a pretty solid choice and henceforth shall be known as Madame.

Because of Poulet Gaston Gerard, I’m facing a quandary, un dilemme, as it were. Recently, I served this dish to Husband with some of my homemade baguettes and a lovely Burgundy blend as we poured over European travel guidebooks. Between the poulet and the vin, I was bewitched by France and once again chose the adventure over the stuff. So this time it’s Paris and the Loire Valley instead of the cooktop. But now I wonder if there may be a little snag in my travel plans: will we be welcome en France? The French rarely show any affection toward American tourists and I don’t see that improving over the next, say four years.

Seriously, I have no intention of wasting my precious time and resources where I’m not wanted – at 57 that lesson has finally sunk in. And while I can brush off a chilly reception, I draw the line at a tomato-throwing mob angered by global policies I neither condone nor promote. I do know this reeks of first-world problem-age, but the point is still valid: how do you reconcile your beliefs and standards with political chaos? Or do you?

Were this a simple matter of economics or timing or safety I could justify punting France and traveling around the States. But none of those factors are in play, which begs the question, am I a big ol’ chicken, or has my thriftiness raged out of control? Either way, I’m clearly hung up on caution…okay, fine, it’s also about control. Perhaps I will drop my over-protective armor with a few more French dinners and a bottle or two of a Loire Valley Chenin blanc. So, throwing caution and control to the wind, the plan is to table my first-world problems and confidently travel to France this fall. Until we encounter a legitimate roadblock or I move to Canada, I’ll be pre-gaming from the Julia Child bible, Mastering the Art of French Cooking, and choosing my weapon from a tray of $1 Goodwill crystal stemware. Choices, after all.

---

Poulet Gaston Gerard

Thigh notes: I’ve learned that buying bone-in, skin-on thighs results in a savings of about $1.50 per pound. Frankly, I like crispy skin for this dish, but not an excess of fat, so I just trim it a bit. The bones could stay in, but it’s so simple to use a sharp pairing knife and remove them. After a few tries you’ll get the hang of it.

Ingredients

• 1 Tbs vegetable oil (I use Avocado oil)
• 1-2 Tbs butter
• 4-5 skin-on thighs, boneless optional
• Salt and pepper for seasoning
• 1 tsp sweet paprika, or ½ & ½ with smoked
• 1 large onion, thinly sliced into crescents
• spring or 2 of fresh thyme and a bay leaf
• 2 Tbs red wine vinegar
• ½ cup dry white wine
• 2 Tbs whole grain Dijon mustard
• ½ cup chicken stock
• ½ cup crème fraîche or heavy whipping cream
• ½ cup grated Gruyère or Swiss cheese
• ½ cup panko breadcrumbs

Method

1. Preheat oven to 400°
2. Place a 12” cast iron skillet or similar heavy-bottomed pan on medium heat. Add the oil and then the butter to melt.
3. Salt and pepper the dry chicken pieces and add to hot pan. Sear 3-4 minutes on each side or until lightly crispy and brown. Remove and set aside.
4. Add the onion and sauté on medium until soft. Sprinkle in the paprika and add the vinegar.
5. Reduce and add the wine.
6. Reduce the wine by half and add the Dijon, crème fraîche or heavy cream, and chicken stock. Add the thyme springs and bay leaf. Reduce the liquids by half again or until you have a moderately thick sauce.
7. Return the chicken to the pan, skin side up, and use a large spoon to coat the thighs with sauce.
8. Bake for 25 min then sprinkle with Gruyère, followed by panko, and bake an additional 5 minutes until cheese is bubbly. Serve with a green salad and warm baguettes.

---

---

the week of dinner choices

---

Ps. One day that old cooktop will die and the choice to replace it will upgrade from discretionary to vital. I assure you I will be ready!

Also this: