Let Me Tell You Why I Keep Coming Back to This Chicken
Hey there! Let me tell you, if you ever need an excuse to open a bottle of cider on a chilly evening and turn your kitchen into a rustic French bistro (okay, bistro might be pushing it, but you get me), French Chicken Casserole a la Normande is the answer. This honestly takes me back to when I first attempted it for a random Tuesday night dinner, thinking it would be all fancy and intimidating—spoiler: it’s mostly just a cozy hug in a pot. The first time was kind of a lark, and now every autumn it’s pretty much expected from me. I’ve even been caught dipping hunks of baguette straight into the pot before anyone else sits down (don’t judge unless you’ve tried it!).
Why My Family Goes Bonkers for This (Even the Picky Ones!)
I make this when it’s raining sideways or someone’s had a tough day. My family goes bananas for it—literally, my daughter demanded it two nights in a row (not my proudest nutritional week, but hey, there are apples in it so that counts, right?). I think it’s all the creamy sauce that soaks into potatoes, and that whiff of apple cider you get as soon as you open the lid. Sometimes the sauce splits a bit—look, it happens. Nobody’s ever complained, and leftovers somehow taste even better once the flavors have bunked together overnight. Don’t even get me started about the time the cat tried to swipe a piece of chicken off the counter…
Okay, Here’s What You’ll Need: The Ingredients (Give or Take a Bit)
- 4 chicken thighs, bone in, skin on (I’ve swapped for drumsticks before—worked fine, just a different vibe)
- 2 tablespoons olive oil (I’ve run out and used butter; it’s a bit richer, but yum)
- Salt and pepper, to taste (don’t be shy, but don’t go wild either)
- 1 large yellow onion, sliced thinly (red onion works too, but it’s sweeter)
- 3 garlic cloves, minced (I use the jar from the fridge when I can’t be bothered chopping)
- 200g cremini mushrooms, quartered (button mushrooms or even chestnut ones are fine)
- 2 apples, peeled and thickly sliced (Granny Smith is classic—my gran thought Golden Delicious was essential, but I never noticed the diff)
- 250ml dry apple cider (hard cider, not apple juice; but fine, in an emergency, use chicken broth instead, just less fun)
- 150ml chicken stock (cube, carton, homemade—do what you gotta do)
- 2 teaspoons Dijon mustard (sometimes I just guess and add a bit more…oops)
- 1 teaspoon dried thyme (fresh is fancier; use a few sprigs if you have ‘em lying around)
- 100ml heavy cream (double cream is lush, but I once used regular pouring cream and it was ok, just not as dreamy and thick)
- A handful of chopped flat-leaf parsley, for garnish (or skip it, your secret’s safe with me)
How I Tackle This Chicken Casserole – Step by Step-ish!
- Heat the olive oil in a big, heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. Pat your chicken dry (nobody likes soggy skin), season it with salt and pepper, then brown it skin-side down for about 4-5 minutes each side. I love this bit—crispy chicken smells like victory. Remove the chicken and put them on a plate for now.
- Chop your onions and throw them in the pot. Add a splash more oil if the pan looks dry. Cook them until they’re soft and a bit golden; if they stick, just scrape a little harder. Toss in the garlic and stir for 1 minute more—don’t let it burn or your kitchen will smell a bit off all day.
- Add the mushrooms next. Let them sizzle and release their juices. They’ll shrink a fair bit—that’s normal, promise.
- This is apple time! Add the slices in with the onions and mushrooms. Cook about 3-4 minutes, or until they get a bit golden and start to soften. Don’t panic if you get a few raggedy bits; it’ll all stew together soon enough.
- Pour in your cider (save some for yourself, just saying) and let everything bubble for a minute or two so the boozey smell mellows out. Then add the chicken stock, Dijon, and thyme. Stir it until things feel pretty well mixed.
- Bring your chicken back into the pot, nestling it skin-side up amongst the veg and sauce. Make sure everyone’s cozy in there. Pop the lid on, lower the heat a tad, and simmer gently for 30–35 minutes. I usually take a quick peek halfway, just because.
- Take off the lid. Now, pour in your cream (oh yes). Let it all simmer with the lid off for another 10–15 minutes to thicken and become lush. This is where I usually sneak a spoonful, for scientific reasons.
- Taste for seasoning. More salt or pepper? Up to you. Scatter chopped parsley over the top—unless you forgot to buy it, in which case, just pretend you’re going for rustic authenticity.
Notes from My Possibly Overcrowded Brain
- If you forget to peel the apples…don’t sweat it. The skin softens up more than you’d expect.
- I once tried this with boneless breast—came out a bit dry, honestly.
- Sometimes the cream looks like it’s splitting; just stir it real well, it’ll fix itself (unless you boiled it, in which case…try a little more cream).
Things I’ve Messed With (a.k.a. Variations)
- Swapped the apples for pears once—actually delightful!
- Used leeks instead of onions when I was desperate. Worked, but the sauce was a bit sweet for my taste.
- Tried thickening the sauce with flour—it got a bit gloopy. Wouldn’t recommend, unless you’re into wallpaper paste vibes.
Pots, Pans, and That Fancy Dutch Oven You Don’t Need
If you’ve got a Dutch oven—fantastic, use it. If not, honestly, any big heavy pot with a lid works. One time I even made it in an ancient, battered soup pot that’s older than me and it turned out fine (maybe even with more flavor, who knows?).
How I Store Leftovers (For the Whole Day They Last)
If you have leftovers, pop them in an airtight container. They’ll keep in the fridge for up to 2 days, possibly 3 at a stretch. But honestly, in my house, that’s barely 24 hours—somebody always eats it cold for lunch the next day. I don’t rate freezing it (the cream goes funny), but technically you could if you must.
Serving: What’s on the Side?
We always have crusty bread to mop that sauce. Sometimes I do buttery mash, sometimes just a pile of green beans. My brother insists it tastes best with buttery egg noodles—go figure. Oh, and if there’s wine in the house, this is definitely a white wine dinner for us.
Lessons I’ve Learned the Hard Way (Pro Tips…Sort Of)
- Don’t try to brown the chicken too quickly. I once rushed it and ended up with weirdly pale skin—just sad.
- Put the apples in after the mushrooms. I thought I’d shortcut and chuck them all in at once, but the apples kind of vanished. Not ideal.
- If your sauce looks thin, simmer with the lid off at the end, but don’t crank the heat or it’ll curdle. Slow and steady wins this race.
Questions Real People Have Asked Me (For Real!)
- Do I have to use alcohol? Nope. Chicken stock will keep it cozy—just less of that apple twang.
- My sauce split—have I doomed dinner? Nah, just stir hard or add a splash more cream. Looks matter less than taste here! (And, if you’re eating by candlelight, no one will notice.)
- Can I make this ahead? Absolutely, I actually think it tastes better the next day—if you can fend off snackers until dinner.
- What if I don’t like mushrooms? Skip them, use more onions, or try diced carrots—nobody’ll revoke your French credentials over this one.
So, there you go—my French Chicken Casserole a la Normande, with all its cozy quirks and occasional delicious mayhem. It’s fancy enough for company but low-fuss enough for a Tuesday. Enjoy, and don’t forget the crusty bread—or the cider for the cook!
Ingredients
- 4 chicken thighs, bone in, skin on (I’ve swapped for drumsticks before—worked fine, just a different vibe)
- 2 tablespoons olive oil (I’ve run out and used butter; it’s a bit richer, but yum)
- Salt and pepper, to taste (don’t be shy, but don’t go wild either)
- 1 large yellow onion, sliced thinly (red onion works too, but it’s sweeter)
- 3 garlic cloves, minced (I use the jar from the fridge when I can’t be bothered chopping)
- 200g cremini mushrooms, quartered (button mushrooms or even chestnut ones are fine)
- 2 apples, peeled and thickly sliced (Granny Smith is classic—my gran thought Golden Delicious was essential, but I never noticed the diff)
- 250ml dry apple cider (hard cider, not apple juice; but fine, in an emergency, use chicken broth instead, just less fun)
- 150ml chicken stock (cube, carton, homemade—do what you gotta do)
- 2 teaspoons Dijon mustard (sometimes I just guess and add a bit more…oops)
- 1 teaspoon dried thyme (fresh is fancier; use a few sprigs if you have ‘em lying around)
- 100ml heavy cream (double cream is lush, but I once used regular pouring cream and it was ok, just not as dreamy and thick)
- A handful of chopped flat-leaf parsley, for garnish (or skip it, your secret’s safe with me)
Instructions
-
1Heat the olive oil in a big, heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. Pat your chicken dry (nobody likes soggy skin), season it with salt and pepper, then brown it skin-side down for about 4-5 minutes each side. I love this bit—crispy chicken smells like victory. Remove the chicken and put them on a plate for now.
-
2Chop your onions and throw them in the pot. Add a splash more oil if the pan looks dry. Cook them until they’re soft and a bit golden; if they stick, just scrape a little harder. Toss in the garlic and stir for 1 minute more—don’t let it burn or your kitchen will smell a bit off all day.
-
3Add the mushrooms next. Let them sizzle and release their juices. They’ll shrink a fair bit—that’s normal, promise.
-
4This is apple time! Add the slices in with the onions and mushrooms. Cook about 3-4 minutes, or until they get a bit golden and start to soften. Don’t panic if you get a few raggedy bits; it’ll all stew together soon enough.
-
5Pour in your cider (save some for yourself, just saying) and let everything bubble for a minute or two so the boozey smell mellows out. Then add the chicken stock, Dijon, and thyme. Stir it until things feel pretty well mixed.
-
6Bring your chicken back into the pot, nestling it skin-side up amongst the veg and sauce. Make sure everyone’s cozy in there. Pop the lid on, lower the heat a tad, and simmer gently for 30–35 minutes. I usually take a quick peek halfway, just because.
-
7Take off the lid. Now, pour in your cream (oh yes). Let it all simmer with the lid off for another 10–15 minutes to thicken and become lush. This is where I usually sneak a spoonful, for scientific reasons.
-
8Taste for seasoning. More salt or pepper? Up to you. Scatter chopped parsley over the top—unless you forgot to buy it, in which case, just pretend you’re going for rustic authenticity.
Approximate Information for One Serving
Nutrition Disclaimers
Number of total servings shown is approximate. Actual number of servings will depend on your preferred portion sizes.
Nutritional values shown are general guidelines and reflect information for 1 serving using the ingredients listed, not including any optional ingredients. Actual macros may vary slightly depending on specific brands and types of ingredients used.
To determine the weight of one serving, prepare the recipe as instructed. Weigh the finished recipe, then divide the weight of the finished recipe (not including the weight of the container the food is in) by the desired number of servings. Result will be the weight of one serving.
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