Classic Chicken Sandwich

Growing up, Saturdays always dawned busy. Weekends didn’t begin with lazy lie ins and a leisurely breakfast served at a table warmed by morning sunshine. Rather I’d wake to the sound of a vacuum cleaner and mum urging me to hurry up and get ready for dance class. Three hours on Saturday mornings when I’d flex, twirl, point and stretch my way through rigorous ballet and tap classes that I loved all while Mum would dash about performing all the normal life tasks of a family and household. Cleaning completed she’d whizz through the local supermarket stocking up for the week no doubt exhausted by lunch time at the frenetic end of week demands of adulting and mothering after a week of work.

Whilst she didn’t enjoy cooking, no doubt feeling like it was just another thing to do at the end of busy and often draining workdays she did enjoy a delicious meal. A vexing contradiction but one that did motivate a couple of signature dishes of a throw together pastry free quiche and a one pot hearty beef and pasta casserole of sorts. Whilst not drawn to the kitchen, time was anchored, for her, in traditions around food. Fish on Good Friday, Ham on Christmas day, Hot Cross Buns, Plum Pudding all the menu points that anchor us to time on the calendar, a particular holiday, its traditions and memories. 

Perhaps it’s this anchoring sense of food at the table at particular points on the calendar that motivated her unwitting establishment of traditions outside those more notable days across the year. Little edible signposts we could rely on during the week, a meal to look forward to. Saturdays were highlighted but one such tradition. I’m not sure if this little reward of a favourite lunch after all the hubbub of life tasks was something for mum to look forward to and offer her an edible pat on the back for the morning’s hard work or for us all to look forward to. Our family’s love of a traditional pastie runs deep and for a long time this was what we all looked forward to on Saturdays. Not the home-made variety like my Nana made and which motivated my version but ones from our favourite local bakery. Warm steaming vegies and meat encased in handmade flaky pastry that rained down on the plate with each bite just like a home-made one and almost as good, and that little pleasure at the end of all the rushing. Another Saturday lunch that featured regularly was one that remains a firm favourite of mine and one I offer you my riff on today.

Arriving at the deli counter at the supermarket for the weeks sliced ham and bacon the comforting smell of roast chicken emerging from the rotisserie was one that drew oos and ahhs from shoppers and one my Mum loved. Stopping at the bakery on the way to the car with her laden trolley she’d pick up fresh bread, loading everything up, rushing to return to pick me up and get home for lunch with all the bulging brown paper bags in the back (remember those?). Skipping down the path towards my mum waving form the driver’s seat, I remember being greeted by the aromas of fresh bread and roast chicken mingling together wrapping me in anticipation for the empty tummy I carried, that tummy rumbling the whole way home. Rushing to carry bags inside we’d pop everything away before the chicken cooled too much. Rewarded for our haste we’d then sit down to thick, fluffy slices of fragrant, still warm, white bread sandwiched around miraculously still steaming succulent chicken pulled from a just roasted bird. Such a simple sambo is not one I make very often these days but on the very odd occasion when I do I’m still overwhelmed with the memories and nostalgia of those very simple lunches shared by mum and I after our very different but busy Saturday mornings. 

But I do still love a chicken sandwich and as is my want I’ve embellished the simple version of my childhood to something a little more sophisticated though still somehow quite simple and still evocative of oos and ahhs.

Ingredients:

200 gm cooked cubed chicken cooled **

100 grams chopped bacon fried off to just crispy, cooled

2 Tb garlic aioli

2 Tb plain mayonnaise like Kewpie

1 Tb sour cream

1 Tb finely chopped fresh chives *

1 Tb roughly chopped pistachios

Freshly ground black pepper to taste.

Bread or bread rolls and embellishments such as cheese and salad accoutrements of your choice. I’ve used crusty Italian style ciabatta rolls, cos/romaine lettuce, swiss cheese and fresh tomato.

Method:

Combine all ingredients mixing well. You can adjust the aioli, mayo and sour cream to your preference tasting as you go but I do suggest you maintain the proportions to preserve the flavour. I prefer this amount to help hold everything together well and because, well frankly, it’s DELICIOUS!! The mixture can be made ahead and stored in an airtight container until ready to make your sandwiches. You may like to make ahead like this to take to a picnic or away on a weekend jaunt.

This amount makes 3-4 rolls/sandwiches generously filled. If the chicken is chopped more finely you can make a more delicate sandwich for a refined affair or luncheon shared table perhaps, with some finely sliced iceberg lettuce or cucumber slices.

Notes:

** I’ve used a store bought roast chicken known in Australia as BBQ or Chargilled BBQ chicken and overseas as Rotisserie Chicken.

*If fresh chives are unavailable you can use ½ Tb of dried chives or even one spring onion/scallion finely chopped.

Bruschetta Salad

Cicadas buzzing in the trees, laughter trilling on the breeze and glasses clinking. The sounds of summer often punctuates our little street on Sunday’s at dusk as neighbours who’re friends and friends who are neighbours gather together in the shade of my next door neighbours backyard to chat about their week and enjoy a final unwind as the weekend winds down. It’s a glorious tradition enjoyed periodically where delicious wines are shared and a little afternoon nibble is passed around. The spontaneity of our gatherings adds to their enjoyment and calls on our creativity diving into our kitchens in search of offerings to share. With a glass of bubbles in hand last Sunday my other hand, held delicious bruschetta topped with a mixture of little jewel tomato threaded with basil shreds fresh from our hostess’s garden. She’s quite the urban farmer who generously shares her glut of produce, often in surprise bowls at the front door. During a recent such soiree, as the juices of macerated tomatoes dripped between my fingers and the clock ticked towards dinner time my mind wandered to what was left in my own kitchen and the bowl of tomatoes grown in the little micro market garden surrounding me sitting on my own bench. Later, while meat sizzled on the BBQ, I threw together basil from my own garden with tomatoes from my neighbour and a few other embellishments to create a salad that harked back to those garlicky summery flavours of fresh bruschetta.

Bruschetta Salad can be as easy as you wish or a little more involved if you’re feeling fancy and have a few extra minutes up your sleeve. I’ll give you the tips for the easy version below the recipe for the Sunday “I’ve got time,” version. Inspired by Lucy Tweed and her brilliant book Every Night of the Week, I love to serve this salad only semi constructed showing off all the beautiful colours and produce but also allowing diners to choose all the bits they love and almost build their own little salad while they serve themselves. If you prefer to serve like a tossed salad style be sure and add the bready bits just before serving to preserve the crunch.

Ingredients:

2 large cloves garlic, peeled and flattened with the back of a knife.

¼ C extra virgin olive oil

¼ tsp salt flakes

3-4 thick slices of sourdough the bread. The older the better though obviously sans mould. We don’t want it that old.

3 Cups of cut up mixed tomatoes.

¼ cup shredded basil leaves. Don’t cut these up until you’re ready to assemble.

3 handfuls of your favourite salad leaves. I prefer baby butter lettuce but baby cos (romaine) is also delicious. You want to use something fairly neutral in flavour.

Method:

Preheat oven to 200c

Combine squashed garlic cloves, olive oil and salt and allow to sit while you prepare the bread. You can tear up bread into small pieces or slice into cubes, whichever you prefer. Toss in a bowl with half the olive oil. Spread evenly in one layer over a baking tray and bake for 10-15 minutes or until golden brown and crispy. Cool on the bench on their trays while you prepare the toms.

If you’re using cherry tomatoes simply halve them. If you’re using larger regular tomatoes chop into large chunks like the size you’d cut into for regular bruschetta. In another bowl combine tomatoes, remaining garlicky oil and shredded basil and leave to marainate a few mins.

On a platter spread washed leaves out in one layer. Mound tomatoes on top and place croutons in another mound next to them. Serve immediately.

Last minute/Cheat’s/’I can’t be bothered’ Version:

Now…This can be made a whole lot faster when you get that call from family or friends as you walk out of work on Friday night saying “hey let’s get together…we’ll come to you…” Don’t panic my friends. They’ll look at this placed on the table and think you’ve been slaving away for hours.

Instead of making the croutons, you can buy these pre-made at the supermarket. While you’re there run into the oil aisle and grab some flavoured olive oil for the garlic oil (also a great option if fresh garlic upsets your digestive system). These two quick short cuts will save you time and get you to pretty much the same place.