I Tried Martha Stewart’s Chicken Piccata, and It Had Something to Say
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Martha Stewart Chicken Piccata
Leave a Comment on I Tried Martha Stewart’s Chicken Piccata, and It Had Something to Say
the chicken was thawed.
the lemons were almost soft.
and the capers had been waiting at the back of the fridge long enough to feel like fate.
I didn’t plan this one.
but it came together fast—like a second wind.
What the Original Looked Like
Martha keeps it tight.
pound the chicken thin.
dredge in flour.
sear in butter and oil.
then comes the wine. the lemon. the capers.
a pan sauce built from what’s left behind.
she swirls in butter at the end.
calls it done.
it’s smart. fast. sharp.
like something a tired woman would order in Paris.
alone.
on purpose.
What I Did Differently
used a little extra wine.
because I opened the bottle.
and I wanted to smell it.
skipped the parsley.
not because I forgot—because I didn’t have any.
and I didn’t want to go out.
my flour dredge had a bit of garlic powder.
don’t ask why.
I needed it.
The Way It Happened in My Kitchen
I cut the chicken breasts in half, lengthwise.
laid them between plastic wrap and pounded them flat with the bottom of a mason jar.
not elegant.
effective.
flour, salt, pepper, garlic powder—into a shallow dish.
dredged each piece.
shook off the extra.
heated oil and butter until they shimmered.
laid the chicken in.
they sizzled like applause.
flipped them after three minutes.
golden.
took them out. set them aside.
deglazed with wine—just a splash at first.
scraped the browned bits like they owed me something.
added the rest of the wine.
let it reduce.
squeezed in lemon juice.
capers in.
more butter.
swirled the pan until the sauce turned glossy.
tasted it.
sharp.
bright.
clean.
put the chicken back in.
spooned sauce over the top.
stood there a moment.
then served.
A Few Things I Learned While It Simmered
you don’t need much to make something loud.
just lemon, wine, heat, and nerve.
What I Did With the Extras
ate one piece cold the next morning.
standing by the sink.
still good.
still bold.
Mae took two home.
said “this tastes grown-up.”
then added, “but not boring.”
I’ll take it.
Would I Make It Again?
yes.
on a night when the air’s heavy
and I need something citrusy to cut through the weight.
That’s As Much As I Remember
the sauce soaked into the rice.
the pan stayed hot long after the burner was off.
and the last bite was the best.
this reminded me of the lemon shrimp I cooked in college. bright, chaotic, and better than I meant it to be.
FAQs
yes. or it won’t cook evenly.
and it won’t feel like piccata. just dinner.
dry white. not sweet. not expensive. just something drinkable.
don’t. not for this.
this sauce needs real citrus.
technically.
but you’ll lose the bite.
and this dish is all about the bite.
rice. pasta. bread.
something to catch the sauce.
Martha Stewart Chicken Piccata
Description
Sharp, tender, and unapologetically fast—this is the chicken you make when you need to remember who you are.
Ingredients
Instructions
- Pound the chicken thin under plastic wrap. ¼ inch is the goal. even, not perfect.
- Mix the flour, salt, pepper. dredge the chicken until lightly coated. shake off the rest.
- Heat the olive oil and 1 tbsp butter in a skillet over medium-high heat. add the chicken. cook 2–3 minutes per side until golden. don’t move them too much. let them settle
- Remove the chicken. pour out the extra fat. return the pan to heat.
- Add the wine. scrape the bits. reduce by half. it’ll smell like something important.
- Take the pan off the heat. add lemon juice, capers, and the remaining butter. swirl until glossy. taste. adjust.
- Return the chicken. coat with sauce. plate it up. serve hot. maybe with a side of quiet.