The Italian Cook dishes up poulet

I no sooner finished my August Cover Girl dinner then I turned around and made a huge French dinner the following evening. Partly because it just dawned on me that in a few years I will be sixty and I am apt to get quite dotty. (I know - I've had fifty-something years to get used to the number 60 and I cannot. So I thought I would start practicing now.) I also had starving-graduate-student-son home for the weekend and thought I would feed him royally while I could.
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I have a lot of herbs. They're calling to me. "Use me, use me. Why haven't you used me." All summer, it's been their plaintive soft cry but lately they've started to shriek.

And then August Bon Appetit had some Julia Child recipes in honor of her birthday and there it was: Poulet Saute aux Herbes de Provence! Say that three times - with an Italian accent! So I picked my herbs (who became quite indignant after being snipped) and went to work.

Below is my emulsified Provencal sauce. (I know the "c" has a squiggle - I cannot figure out how to do accents on blogger. Anyone know?) That sauce will make you salivate in a way Pavlov's dogs could not. For you are salivating for French food only. Laden with wine (but, of course!) and basil, fennel fronds (I actually have huge, honking fennel fronds). Anyone ready to book Air France pour moi? Oh dear. I hope eating French food does not make me pretentious.

And the sauce is drizzled over these golden, succulent, sun-spiced chicken. (I need to go to the South of France now.)

Can you feel the bistro atmosphere? Poulet saute aux herbes de Provence beckons.

With some roasted potatoes, I do declare - I heard someone say, "It's good enough for company."

And because zucchinis are still plentiful, we ended the meal with chocolate zucchini muffins. From Barbara Bakes blog. There's nothing like getting a serving of vegetables in your dessert! Deep and rich, zucchini never had it so good. I sweat I tasted a touch of Nice in every bite. It's all French to me!