There are winter days when the sky is illuminated with a certain pitch of pale yellow that tells me the sun is withholding every ounce of its warmth and the cold air outside will be piercing. It’s these kind of days that have me frozen in place.
I want something warm in my belly but I but what I really want is to climb under the covers and hibernate until the thaw. Tonight is an evening that calls for something that can be thrown into the hot oven, knowing it will emerge with enough spice to add warmth to an otherwise barren day.
I’ve decided on a Spanish Chicken Bake. It provides almost as much comfort to me as a pair of warm fleecy pajamas. Whether they make this in Spain, I don’t know but the fact that it involves potatoes with smoked paprika make it seem like I should at least credit the Spanish influence.
The preparation couldn’t be easier, the flavors are particularly warming and there’s color in this dish that brings back a distant memory of a hot summer’s day. There is minimal prep and what work there is to be done is almost a release. Chopping is my form of mental and physical exercise on a day that inspires neither.
What emerges from my oven at the end of almost an hour, is a warming old-fashioned baked chicken dish that leaves me as comfortable on the inside as my warm jammies and flannel sheets will comfort me tonight.
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