Tarragon Chicken — The Recipe That’s Just Yours

The corn is up. Five days after planting, the first green shoots pushed through the backyard soil, and Jack was on his knees at six-thirty in the morning with his face two inches from the ground, watching them emerge. He called me over. I came in my bathrobe, holding my coffee, and crouched next to him, and we looked at two tiny corn shoots together and neither of us spoke because some moments are too heavy for words, even small words, even "there it is."

There it is. Bodacious sweet corn growing in a suburban backyard in Des Moines, from seed that came from Dad's garden, from a variety that Dad grew on the farm, from a lineage that stretches back further than I can trace. It's not four hundred acres. It's four rows. But they're growing, and a Weber planted them, and the soil doesn't know the difference between a farm and a backyard. Soil just grows what you give it.

I called Dad. I said, "The corn's up." He said, "How many days?" I said, "Five." He said, "That's fast. Good soil." And then he asked about the weather forecast and the spacing and whether I'd fertilized and I answered every question and at no point did either of us acknowledge that we were both close to tears about four rows of corn in a backyard, because Webers don't acknowledge tears. They discuss fertilizer. Same thing, different language.

Emma had a choir concert Thursday. She sang — she performed — with the full-throated commitment of someone who doesn't know she can't sing and doesn't care even if she did. I clapped. Kevin clapped. Noah clapped politely. Jack was already asleep because it was past his bedtime and he'd been up since dawn monitoring corn emergence.

I made lemon chicken for dinner — breasts pounded thin, dredged in flour, sautéed in butter, finished with a sauce of lemon juice, chicken broth, capers, and parsley. It's not a Marlene recipe. It's something I found in a magazine years ago and adopted because sometimes you need a recipe that's yours, not your mother's, not your grandmother's, just yours. Marlene's recipes are my inheritance. The lemon chicken is my choice. Both matter. Both feed.

The lemon chicken got me thinking about variations on that same idea—thin-pounded breasts, a pan sauce, something bright and a little elegant that comes together fast enough for a weeknight when you’re still riding the feeling of watching your daughter sing like the world is listening. Tarragon has that same quality: it sounds fancier than it is, it makes an ordinary thing feel considered. Here’s what I made the following night, when the corn was still being monitored and Emma was still humming to herself around the house.

Tarragon Chicken

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts (about 6 oz each), pounded to 1/2-inch thickness
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 1/3 cup all-purpose flour, for dredging
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 2 shallots, finely minced
• 2 garlic cloves, minced
• 1/2 cup dry white wine
• 3/4 cup low-sodium chicken broth
• 1/3 cup heavy cream
• 2 tablespoons fresh tarragon leaves, chopped (or 1 teaspoon dried)
• 1 tablespoon fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped
• 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
• 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

Instructions

1. Prep the chicken. Season the pounded chicken breasts on both sides with salt and pepper. Dredge lightly in flour, shaking off any excess.
2. Sauté the chicken. In a large skillet over medium-high heat, melt the butter with the olive oil. When the butter foams, add the chicken breasts. Cook 4 to 5 minutes per side until golden and cooked through (internal temperature of 165°F). Transfer to a plate and tent loosely with foil.
3. Build the sauce base. Reduce heat to medium. Add the shallots to the same skillet and cook, stirring, for 2 minutes until softened. Add the garlic and cook 30 seconds more.
4. Deglaze the pan. Pour in the white wine and scrape up any browned bits from the bottom of the pan. Let it reduce by half, about 2 minutes.
5. Finish the sauce. Add the chicken broth and bring to a simmer. Stir in the heavy cream, Dijon mustard, and lemon juice. Simmer 3 to 4 minutes until the sauce thickens slightly. Taste and adjust salt and pepper.
6. Add the herbs and serve. Stir in the tarragon and parsley. Return the chicken to the pan and spoon the sauce over the top. Let it warm through for 1 minute. Serve immediately over rice, egg noodles, or with crusty bread to catch the sauce.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 340 | Protein: 38g | Fat: 16g | Carbs: 8g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 390mg