LEMON CHICKEN

THIS DISH COULD LAUNCH A COLLECTION OF SHORT STORIES. It’s a family stand-by—a never-fail dish simple in its preparation but complex in its taste and presentation. And oh, the stories it tells.

One of the best is the one about Maureen fixing it well ahead of a dinner party we were hosting shortly after our arrival in Dallas. After a leisurely late afternoon bath, she wandered into the kitchen to find all 100 pounds of our Black Lab, MacDougal, leaning on the counter finishing the last of the eight or so sautéed chicken breasts that were waiting to go in the oven. For some reason, she was without a car that day necessitating a brisk round trip walk to the neighborhood grocery store for more chicken and lemons, and another round of sautéing, which she was finishing up just as I arrived with our guests. Mac was nowhere to be seen that evening.

But my favorite involves a dinner we hosted for my new boss at Rockwell International in our Pittsburgh days. It was about a month after our son, Brian, was born—a month that had both Maureen and I on an emotional roller coaster that we still talk about.

On August 1, my son was born. On August 2, I was “fired” from Rockwell because of a quote I gave to the Wall Street Journal about the change in command at the top of the corporate hierarchy. In retrospect, I wasn’t actually fired on that summer day, but it sure felt like it at the time. It seems the new chairman, the old chairman and several board members were looking for my scalp, because of my truthful—albeit naïve and unauthorized—statement about the change in command. My boss at the time suggested that I go home, keep my head down, my mouth shut and, he added as I staggered to the door in shock, enjoy my newborn son.

I did go home and did manage to keep my mouth shut, despite several calls from friends in the media looking for the “real” story. Thankfully, a few weeks after the incident, tempers had cooled to the point where I could slink back to the office. Since I had gone home and kept my mouth shut, I was given a new assignment not involving the media and, in short order, a new boss who’s job it was to keep me out of trouble, out of sight and off of the executive floor.

He was brand new to the company, and an old friend of the vice president who had “fired” me. Somehow I knew from the minute I first met him that he was somebody worth getting to know better, and that the more I got to know him, the better I’d like him. I was right. Phil Jacques was and is one of the most intensely focused professionals I ever worked with. Working with him day-to-day was an exercise in perfection: tough but satisfying for those of us who could keep up.

But he also possesses an over-developed sense of concern for the people around him, assuming the demeanor of a wolverine protecting her young. And given my history, I needed more protection than most.

Since his wife, Rita, had yet to join him in Pittsburgh, I invited him to dinner. (I was never averse to earning brownie points.) He graciously accepted and showed up at our doorstep at the appointed hour carrying, as a gift, a Gucci wine corkscrew—a tool that we used for the next 25 years or so, and actually mourned over when it finally broke. When it did, it seemed like we had lost a little piece of Phil.

But that evening, he was fully present, totally engaging and—as only Phil could be—overwhelmed that Maureen, a month out of the delivery room (totally recovered and engaged in caring for three kids) would have the energy to cook dinner. She did, and the dinner was lemon chicken.

Lemon Chicken: The Recipe

Serves four, six or eight people depending

Ingredients

8 half chicken breasts, lightly pounded.

1 cup flour

2 teaspoons salt

2 teaspoons ground pepper

4 tablespoons butter

2 tablespoons olive oil

4 tablespoons dry vermouth

3 tablespoons lemon juice

½ cup fresh parsley, chopped

3 large lemons sliced thinly

4 tablespoons capers

Salt and pepper to taste

First: Preheat the oven to 325°F. Pound the chicken breasts between pieces of plastic wrap to a uniform thickness of about a quarter-inch.

Second: Dredge the chicken breasts in the seasoned flour to coat lightly. Brown them in the butter and olive oil on medium heat, two to three minutes on a side. Deglaze the pan with the vermouth and lemon juice.

Third: Arrange the breasts in a single layer in a shallow baking pan. Drizzle with the vermouth/lemon juice pan drippings. Arrange the lemon slices over the chicken. Sprinkle the capers over the chicken and bake uncovered for 20 minutes.

And finally: Serve immediately, garnished with fresh lemon slices and chopped parsley.