WWC24 – Tuesday wine and chicken, by Michelle Ryan

Roast chicken with wine

In this entry to our 2024 wine writing competition, wine enthusiast Michelle Ryan writes about an unforgettable food-and-wine-pairing moment. See our competition guide for the rest of the published entries.

Michelle Ryan writes I went on to complete WSET 3 and I continue learning about wine, its history, regions, and pairings. I’m a travel enthusiast, a frequent entrepreneur, a persistent gardener, a politician that one time, a wine nerd, a bread baker, and a roaster of chickens. I’m still searching for what I want to be when I grow up, but I’ll be happy and content continuing to learn new things, visit new places, and taste amazing wine and food. 

Tuesday Wine & Chicken

It was a weekday–a Tuesday–I remember because no one usually opens ‘the good wine’ on a Tuesday. James, my husband, and I were cooking a simple roast chicken seasoned with herbs de Provence, and probably a side of potatoes; the side dish wasn’t significant enough to remember. This evening was during the Covid years, and although it wasn’t a particularly good or bad day – nothing to celebrate or commiserate – it wasn’t an easy time, and we decided to treat ourselves to a Burgundy Pinot Noir we had stashed away in the wine fridge. 

It was a fine enough wine, a $60 indulgence that we sipped on while we chatted, and the chicken continued cooking. When the chicken was ready, we plated it and nibbled on the bits left on the cutting board. A roasted chicken is comfort food—a tasty, cozy, familiar meal—and those first little bites of meat we tasted were the same thing we had been making most weeks. Mundane? Maybe, but it’s delicious and easy to cook on a weeknight, and I’d cooked it so often that I’d gotten pretty good at it if I’m honest. 

We settled in at the table with a bite of chicken and a sip of wine, and with that first taste of the two together, James and I sat up with a look of surprise and mumbled with full mouths, “Holy shit!” (among other words that aren’t likely to be printed) 

“Is this the best chicken we’ve ever had?” No, it’s what we make every week. And, of course, Thomas Keller’s Bouchon cooks a better chicken.

”Is this the best wine we’ve ever had?” Certainly not. I know we’ve had more prestigious wines with more age and nuance. 

With each bite and sip, we wondered what was happening. We’d had fantastic roast chicken and fabulous Burgundy Pinot Noir before, but this was different; it was so much better! We savored each bite and sip and, every time, asked each other “Why is this so good?” 

The chicken became more succulent and richer, and the herby Provence flavors exploded. The chicken highlighted each herb in the blend and the Provence herbs made the chicken more, well, chicken-y. And the wine, oh my god, the wine sang, and we could taste every note and harmony. 

We continued with sips of wine and bites of chicken and muttering (moaning?) each time, “Oh my god, this is so good.” (I can taste it as I’m writing this.) We lingered over that chicken and bottle of wine for the rest of the evening and didn’t want it to end. 

We’ve told this story a few times, but we often leave out this part: there were tears. It was so good we cried. Maybe some other wine nerds will understand, but it’s a little embarrassing to admit to the casual wine drinker and certainly to anyone who doesn't drink wine. 

A bottle of Burgundy Pinot Noir and a simple roast chicken were nothing more than a drink and a bite to eat on an unremarkable weeknight, but together, they created a meal, a moment, a memory. It was a shared experience that became an evening neither of us will ever forget and one we continue to reminisce about.

We’ve tried to recreate that experience but simply can’t. We’ve cooked many chickens since, and none have been as good. We’ve had more complex and outstanding bottles of Burgundy Pinot, and they haven’t left as much of an impression as that one evening with a simple meal. That moment changed how we taste and experience wine and food. 

Now, we don’t hesitate to open ‘the good wine’ on a Tuesday.

Photo is the author's own.