Chicken with Apple Cream Sauce

The week after the talk was quieter, which was fine. I have learned in sixty-five years that good events need a settling period, the way bread needs to cool before you cut it. Cut it too soon and the crumb compresses and the steam escapes and you have bread that is merely edible instead of what it was meant to be. Good things need their time.

Halloween is Thursday. Frost has been agitated about the leaves blowing across the porch, which he considers a personal insult from the weather. He is eight and in his prime and would chase every leaf if I let him. I let him. The exercise does him good, and watching a border collie attempt to herd leaves is one of the small pleasures that retirement has made available to me at no additional cost.

We do not get many trick-or-treaters out here — we are rural enough that children need to be driven between houses, which puts us at the end of most routes. Helen puts a bowl of candy on the porch anyway. By morning the candy is untouched and the bowl has blown against the railing, but the gesture matters to her, so it is there. I eat the candy myself over the following week. I am sixty-five years old and I see no reason to stop eating Halloween candy.

I spent Sunday making applesauce. We still have a Cortland tree in the side yard — my father planted it in 1960 — and it gives about two bushels every September, which Helen uses for pies and I use for sauce. The process is meditative: peel, core, chop, cook down with a strip of lemon peel and two cloves, pass through the mill. No sugar needed if you pick them ripe. The color is pale gold. It goes in jars in the cellar next to the canned tomatoes and the pickles Helen makes every August. The cellar in October is a record of the year's surplus. My mother would recognize every jar.

I wrote a post for the blog about the Historical Society talk — not the talk itself, but the grandfather's account book. About what it means to keep precise records of something you love. About how "thirty-two gallons of sap to one gallon of syrup" is a weather report and a love letter and a financial ledger all in six words. Helen changed two words in my draft. She was right about both of them.

After a Sunday of applesauce — peeling and coring and running the mill until the cellar shelves were lined with pale gold jars — I still had a bowl of chopped Cortlands sitting on the counter by evening, and it seemed a shame to let them wait until spring. Helen suggested the chicken. She has a way of knowing when the simplest answer is also the right one, which is probably why she was correct about those two words in my draft. This is the kind of supper that belongs to October: a little sweet, a little savory, warm enough to justify eating it by the window while Frost watches the last of the leaves come down.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts (about 6 oz each)
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 medium apples (such as Cortland or Honeycrisp), peeled, cored, and thinly sliced
1 small shallot, finely minced
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/3 cup apple cider or apple juice
3/4 cup heavy cream
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
Fresh thyme or parsley, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

Season the chicken. Pat chicken breasts dry with paper towels and season both sides with salt and pepper.
Sear the chicken. In a large skillet over medium-high heat, melt 1 tablespoon butter with the olive oil. Add chicken and cook 5—6 minutes per side, until golden brown and cooked through (internal temperature 165°F). Transfer to a plate and tent loosely with foil.
Soften the apples and shallot. Reduce heat to medium. Add the remaining 1 tablespoon butter to the skillet. Add the sliced apples and shallot and cook, stirring occasionally, for 4—5 minutes until the apples are tender and lightly golden at the edges.
Build the sauce. Stir in the thyme and cinnamon, then pour in the apple cider, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pan. Let it reduce by half, about 2 minutes.
Add the cream. Lower the heat to medium-low and stir in the heavy cream and Dijon mustard. Simmer gently for 3—4 minutes, stirring, until the sauce thickens enough to coat the back of a spoon.
Return the chicken. Nestle the chicken breasts back into the skillet and spoon the sauce over them. Warm through for 2 minutes. Taste and adjust seasoning. Garnish with fresh thyme or parsley if desired, and serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chicken with Apple Cream Sauce — When the Cortlands Come In, You Find Every Use for Them