Grandmother’s chicken in a bottle
My ‘Proust madeleine’ moment was trying my grandmother’s chicken in a bottle dish. Followingwwii, she would keep empty bottles of wine and upcycle them as jars. Using knitting needles, she pierced the skin of the chicken’s neck and stuffed it with a prune and chard stuffing. Every time my father dropped us off at my grandparents, she went to fetch one of her treasures that she kept in the storage room. She used to cut the bottle with a glass knife, and then served us with the galantine with a jelly and a little salad of lukewarm green beans.