New Year’s easy: Honey & Co’s one-pot chicken and rice with amba
Swerve the stress on New Year’s Eve and serve up a buffet comprising one big dish with plenty of sides, like this chicken and rice with amba, an amazing, tangy Iraqi condiment New Year’s Eve has always struck me as the most treacherous of nights. Not because of the drink, or the fireworks, or the pressure of staying awake past midnight (although that alone should qualify as an endurance sport). Like Valentine’s Day and your birthday, what makes New Year’s Eve perilous is the collective insistence that this night has to deliver: the best meal, the best party, the best version of ourselves. High expectations that will inevitably lead to disappointment, and haven’t we had our fair share of that already? There was one year in the restaurant when we convinced ourselves that the only way to rise to the occasion was a set menu of showstoppers. We thought we had predicted everything, and we assumed (boldly, wrongly) that everyone would choose the chocolate dessert. It made sense: who wouldn’t want chocolate on the most celebratory night of the year? So the tarte tatin went on the menu as a polite alternative, a back-up singer, not the star. Except, of course, everyone wanted the tarte tatin. Continue reading...
Swerve the stress on New Year’s Eve and serve up a buffet comprising one big dish with plenty of sides, like this chicken and rice with amba, an amazing, tangy Iraqi condiment
New Year’s Eve has always struck me as the most treacherous of nights. Not because of the drink, or the fireworks, or the pressure of staying awake past midnight (although that alone should qualify as an endurance sport). Like Valentine’s Day and your birthday, what makes New Year’s Eve perilous is the collective insistence that this night has to deliver: the best meal, the best party, the best version of ourselves. High expectations that will inevitably lead to disappointment, and haven’t we had our fair share of that already?
There was one year in the restaurant when we convinced ourselves that the only way to rise to the occasion was a set menu of showstoppers. We thought we had predicted everything, and we assumed (boldly, wrongly) that everyone would choose the chocolate dessert. It made sense: who wouldn’t want chocolate on the most celebratory night of the year? So the tarte tatin went on the menu as a polite alternative, a back-up singer, not the star. Except, of course, everyone wanted the tarte tatin.