Chicken Marsala for Mica
Wednesday, October 17th, 2007
In college, I lived in the dorm all four years with the same group of girls, who, now, ten years later are still my best friends. Our lives have taken different paths over the years, but we gather periodically for weddings, baby showers, and holidays, and we try to take a trip together once a year, although that has proven more difficult than we would like. My friend, Mica, a part of that group of college girlfriends (and the one in the center above), was the first of us to really exhibit any domestic skills. She was always in charge of food for parties, and when four of us lived together in an apartment one summer, Mica was really the only one who knew how to cook.
Mica’s culinary adventures that summer went something like this: after her summer school classes, she would come home and whip up all kinds of things — yellow cake mix cookies, brownies, and a divine key lime pie that I have particularly fond memories of — and then, without ever even sampling what she’d made, she would go work out for a couple of hours, come home, and make dinner, which was sometimes, but not often, just a little healthier than the sweets she left lying around. In retrospect, the three roommates who consumed all of this food — Lydia, Patty, and me — decided that Mica’s plan to stay skinny that summer was twofold: first, exercise all the time and eat very little; second, make the three of us fat so that she appeared even skinnier by comparison. Perhaps this plan was not exactly a consciously thought-out one, but I know of no other way to explain the image I have in my head of Mica in her work-out gear nibbling at a hardly-dressed bowl of iceberg lettuce while the rest of us feasted on fried pork chops, some sort of casserole, mashed potatoes, and whatever there was for dessert (for, there was always, always dessert).
Despite the number of calories consumed, living in an apartment with our own kitchen was a most-welcome change from our college cafeteria, and Mica was one of the first of my peers that I remember appearing comfortable in a kitchen; she and I have shared a love of cooking ever since. So, recently, when she asked if I had a recipe for chicken marsala that I liked, I started thinking about how our lives — and thus, our cooking habits, — have changed since our college days. Mica married a boy named Micah (I know, what are the odds?), moved to a small town, and is expecting their second child in just a few months. She now spends her days selling real estate and chasing after her two-year-old, so she’s as interested in good food that requires minimal effort as I am. With her in mind, I developed this recipe for what may not be the prettiest food I’ve ever made, but it is definitely tasty and easy to put together. And while it is certainly not the caloric equivalent of something as light as, say, undressed iceberg lettuce, for a recipe with a cream-based sauce, it could be much worse. I do hope that my dear friend Mica is eating the food she cooks these days and that she, along with the rest of you busy cooks out there, finds this recipe useful. I have made it for a couple of special occasions — an anniversary dinner or two — but it is also simple enough for a nice weeknight meal as well.

I am not claiming authenticity here; rather, I was interested creating a version of this traditional Italian recipe that would make quick work of what could seem like a labor-intensive or complicated dish. A heavy, oven-proof skillet (preferably cast iron) is the only pot you need, which makes clean-up a little less work as well. I served the chicken and its sauce over grits thickened with a little butter and some grated Romano cheese, but wide noodles, rice, or a mound of risotto would also make a nice bed for this dish. A simple green salad was all we needed for a side; next time, I’ll wilt some spinach with plenty of garlic for a warm green side dish.
Chicken Marsala with Oven-Roasted Shallots and Mushrooms
2 ounces bacon, diced
4 boneless, skinless chicken breast halves
2 T. flour
4 large shallots, quartered
1 small red onion, cut into large chunks
8 ounces cremini mushrooms, sliced
2 T. balsamic vinegar
1/2 cup Marsala wine
1/2 cup half and half
2 T. Dijon mustard
Kosher salt
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
In a large, oven-proof skillet, cook the bacon over medium heat until crispy. Remove the bacon pieces and set aside.
While the bacon is cooking, prepare the chicken breasts. First, place the breasts between two pieces of wax paper or plastic wrap and pound with the bottom of a heavy skillet. You’re looking for a uniform thickness for all 4 pieces of chicken. Then, dust the chicken with the flour on both sides and sprinkle with salt. After you’ve removed the bacon, add the chicken pieces to the skillet and cook, over medium-high heat, without disturbing for about 2-3 minutes on each side, or until nicely browned. Remove the chicken to the plate with the bacon.
Add the vegetables to the skillet — mushrooms, onions and shallots — and pour in the vinegar and mustard, stirring to combine. Sprinkle the vegetables with salt. Put the whole skillet into the oven and roast the vegetables for 30 minutes. During this 30 minutes, you can fix the side dishes (or have your husband do it and you feed your baby and put her to bed).
Return the skillet to the stove, and turn the heat to medium-high. Add the chicken breasts and bacon pieces back to the skillet. Pour in the wine, and deglaze the pan: stir, scraping the bottom of the skillet and letting the chicken and vegetables absorb the liquid. When the wine has reduced by half, after a couple of minutes, pour in the cream. Add a bit of salt to taste and stir, until the sauce is thickened and brown and the breasts are cooked all the way through, another couple of minutes. Serve immediately.







sandwiches; the original recipe comes from Jane and Michael Stern’s Southern California Cooking from the Cottage: Casual Cuisine from Old La Jolla’s Favorite Beachside Bungalow, reprinted in 

