The Jura is a department in the Franche-Comt? region of France just east of Burgundy that also borders on Switzerland. Because Franche-Comt? didn’t become a part of France until the late seventeenth century, the local traditions, food, language and customs are more distinctive and less familiar than in some other areas. It has some of the most interesting wines in the world. The red is made from poulsard, trousseau or pinot noir grapes and is thinner and paler in color than the red wines made in Burgundy. It is also sharper with a slightly bitter aftertaste, like the skin of a walnut. They also make an austere nutty white made from either Chardonnay or Savagnin grapes, or a mix of the two. Savagnin is also the basis for vin jaune (yellow wine). Because it is aged in barrels that aren’t topped off, as would normally happen when making wine, it becomes more concentrated and tastes a little like sherry. It has to age for at least seven years before it can even be sold and unlike many whites, it can be kept for more than 50 years. Vin jaune is the only white wine made in France that is supposed to be served chambr?, or room temperature.

We brought some home, in its funny 62 cl bottles, a couple of years ago after a visit to the Jura to see our friends Guillaume and Clotilde. We bought six bottles from Guillaume’s cousins, who produce, bottle and sell their own wines at the Chateau de Quintigny. When Guillaume first asked us if we wanted to meet his cousins and taste their wines, I thought of previous wine tasting expeditions to the Loire valley, Bordeaux and Burgundy and imagined a grandiose place with huge well-kept grounds and the snobby attitude that goes with it. The Jura is just not French in that way. After driving half-way up a twisty mountain road, we passed under a medieval archway into a dusty courtyard and were led into a clean stone cave and sat on short wooden stools to taste and talk about these strange red and intriguing white wines. We also had our first taste of macquevin, a sweet ap?ritif made from the juice of savagnin grapes that is cooked to reduce it to a syrup and mixed with marc, a distilled liquor made from grapes, the French equivalent of grappa.

What’s really interesting about the people in this area is that while they have a strong sense of being different from other French people, they have an ambivalent attitude about it. Clotilde has a rather strong accent compared to standard French. Now that she’s living in Paris she seems almost apologetic about it. The people from the Jura talk about their wines in the same way. Clotilde’s mother made us some wonderful meals and her father served us bottle after bottle of the local wine saying, “This is what we drink here. Not everybody likes our wines, but we like them just fine. They go with what we like to eat, with the food we produce.” I’ve heard no better explanation of terroir.

Our friend Mercedes grew up in Franche-Comt?, but now lives in New York with her husband, Brendan, and their daughter, Matilda. It’s a mystery to me how she could leave Franche-Comt?, a place with some of the best cheeses in the world, to marry a guy who can’t even stand the smell of the stuff. I think it’s a mystery to her, too. Mercedes’ birthday this weekend was the perfect occasion to open up some of this wine and cook the regional dish that goes with it, poulet au vin jaune. We started the meal with a first course of foie gras, saut?ed figs and a bit of baby romaine with a fig and shallot vinaigrette. With the main course, we had rice and carrots. This was followed by a salad of Boston lettuce with toasted walnuts and a walnut oil vinaigrette along with a cheese plate including a comt?, of course, which also comes from Franche-Comt?. For dessert, we had an upside-down pear cake with homemade vanilla ice cream and pear sorbet. Last Wednesday, I was telling my mother about our plans for this feast and she and my dad jumped in the car the next day to make the 600 mile car trip and were our surprise guests for this big night.

Poulet au vin jaune

Chicken with yellow wine

• 1 chicken, cut up, plus 4 chicken thighs
• 3 Tbs butter
• 2 shallots, finely minced
• 8 oz. dried or two cups fresh morel mushrooms
• 1 cup vin jaune (you may substitute a dry white burgundy)
• 2 cups chicken stock, preferably homemade
• 1 cup cream
• Salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 3 Tbs parsley, chopped

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

If using dried mushrooms, reconstitute them with 1 cup of boiling water. Drain, strain and reserve the liquid. If using fresh mushrooms, rinse them well. In both instances, make sure that the mushrooms are cleaned of any dirt or sand.

Melt the butter in a Dutch oven or any pot large enough to hold all of the ingredients that has a lid and can go both on the stove top and in the oven. Brown the chicken in the butter over medium heat leaving enough room around each piece of chicken so that it doesn’t boil in its own juices. You may need to do this in two batches. Take out the chicken pieces as they are browned and park them in a bowl.

Turn down the heat and add the shallots. Stir the shallots a couple of times while they are cooking until they turn translucent, about two or three minutes. Add the morels and cook them on medium low until any liquid they have left in the bottom of the pot dissipates and reduces to almost nothing. This will take about 5 or 6 minutes.

Add the wine, chicken stock and the liquid from the morels, if using the dried kind. Put the chicken back in the pot along with any juices that have accumulated in the bowl. Turn the heat up to high and bring the contents just to a boil.

Put the lid on the pot and place it in the pre-heated oven for about 1 hour. Remove the pot from the oven and place it back on the stove top. Remove the chicken pieces and the mushrooms and place them in a serving dish. Reduce the liquid in the pot by about half. Add the cream and simmer until the cream reduces a little. Strain the liquid and pour it over the chicken and mushrooms just before serving. The sauce for this dish is supposed to be on the thin side (as I had to tell my mother a couple of times, it’s not gravy). Garnish with parsley. This dish goes well with rice and carrots. To drink, you’ll want some more vin jaune.

Serves 10

Hello? I’m very surprised that anyone at all is reading this. There are a lot of people writing about food and quite a few have blogs that are better looking than this one. I could say that I am just writing for friends and family, but I know that most of them won’t bother to come here. So, I’m either writing for you, stranger, or else it’s for posterity. A record of what we eat. I’m wondering what we’ll think of all this food 20 years from now.

In this first installment, I’m writing about the humble chicken to give you some clues about what is likely to come. First, you will find recipes here for omnivores. Not everything will have meat or animal products, but I’m as likely to eat meat as I am to eat beans. I like them both. Secondly, I’m into slow food and I’m a little bit of a Francophile. In reference to his plans for France, Henri IV said that he wanted to put a chicken in every pot. Well, I want to put one in yours. A roast chicken is exactly the kind of thing that everyone needs to know how to make; it’s not very complicated and in the time it takes to roast it, you have an hour to do other things, like read about food or make the rest of the dinner. Finally, I like food that keeps on giving. After I roast this chicken, I’ll turn it into broth and use the leftovers for a variety of things, like risotto, chicken salad sandwiches or soup.

I don’t know why anyone would want to buy one of those bland, stringy, dry chickens they’re selling in the grocery stores these days. Roast one yourself and you can have the better tasting, free-range, organic variety and you won’t overcook it. A whole chicken is the best deal there is because you can have a great dinner on Sunday and leftovers for two or three days. There’s also nothing like the smell of schmaltz in the house.

Roast chicken

• 1 3-4 lb. free-range organic chicken, wing tips tucked under body, legs tied together with kitchen string
• 1 Tbs. butter, melted
• Salt, pepper
• Optional: fresh herbs such as parsley, rosemary or thyme, minced garlic

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Rub a little butter onto bottom of cast iron frying pan or roasting pan and the rest on the chicken. If using optional ingredients, chop herbs and mix with garlic (if using); rub most of it under the skin of the chicken and a little in the cavity of bird before tying. Place chicken in pan, sprinkle chicken with salt and pepper and put pan into oven. After about ten minutes move chicken around in pan to prevent it from sticking. After ten more minutes, brush bird with a basting brush or spoon any liquid over skin (if there is no liquid, you can usually find some collected inside the cavity of the bird). Turn oven temperature down to 375 degrees. Baste every 15 minutes for 50-70 minutes (depending on the size of your bird). Test for doneness by pulling on one of the legs, it should be loose. Don’t worry if there is a little pink next to the bone. Remove from oven; take chicken out of pan and place onto cutting board or platter. Let sit 10 minutes. For two servings, carve out breasts and serve with green vegetable and potatoes (mashed, scalloped, steamed). Use pan drippings to make American-style gravy or French-style pan sauce (see below). Save remainder of chicken for leftovers.

American-style gravy

In a small bowl, whisk together 1 Tbs. flour or cornstarch (the former will give you an opaque sauce, the latter will look more clear) and ? cup of warm water. This is called a slurry. Use warm water to help prevent lumps. Lumps are commonly formed when ingredients of differing temperatures are mixed together. Tilt the pan and let drippings collect to one side, spoon off the clear liquid (the fat). Put the pan on the stovetop on medium-high heat. Whisk in the slurry before it comes to a boil. Whisk constantly as the gravy comes to a boil, turn down the heat and cook for a couple of minutes until the mixture has thickened. If mixture is too thick, add a little water and bring back up to a boil. Use immediately. Store any leftovers in a non-reactive container.

French-style pan sauce

After you’ve removed the chicken from the pan, spoon out as much of the fat as you can. Pour in 1/2 white wine or water and turn heat to high. Scrape the brown bits from the bottom of the pan so they mix with the liquid. Turn heat off. Once the liquid has cooled down a little, whisk in 1-4 tablespoons of very cold butter. Obviously, more butter tastes better and gives a thicker sauce, but less will be a healthier rendition. Add salt and black pepper to taste. You can also saut? mushrooms and add them to this sauce. If you’ve put the giblets in when you roast the chicken, they can be chopped finely and added as well. I especially like to add the liver, but this is not to everyone’s taste.