Chicken & Capers with Linguine

Linguine is my favourite pasta – I don’t know why but nobody should have to justify their pasta preferences.

2 large skinless chicken breasts

3 tbsp olive oil

40g fresh breadcrumbs

25g capers

250g Linguine

1 x 142g tub crème fraiche

25g pine nuts

150ml chicken stock

½ tsp chopped rosemary 

The breadcrumbs will benefit from being made from stale bread – just grate it on the largest side of your grater. The capers – they either come dry with salt crystals sticking to them or in brine. The dry ones are much better but for some reason harder to find, unless you live next to a Waitrose. I don't, so I stock up when I do see them. They last for ages.

Get cracking. He’s hungry and it’s halfway through Midsomer Murders. He doesn’t realise he’s hungry yet as he’s winningly gripped by what’s on TV, but when the credits roll, he’ll get grumpy if he’s not fed soon. You’ll likely miss the ending but love doesn’t come without its sacrifices. Make a bit of noise in the kitchen so he knows you're on the case. 

Right – each chicken breast is cut into six and flattened slightly (bash with a rolling pin – easier done before you cut it into six now I think about it!) 

Fry the breadcrumbs and pine nuts until golden and set aside – these will provide an intriguing crunch to the creamy sauce. He will love this – it will appeal to him if he likes beer and crisps. 

Get the pasta on. Loads of salted water please. 

In the pan you did the crumbs in, pour the crème fraiche, capers, stock and rosemary. As it approaches the boil, add the chicken. Lower the heat and stir occasionally until the chicken is cooked. Unusually I try to avoid taste-checking the sauce as it is a little sour but when it’s coating the linguine it really isn't. Magically it mellows out.  

Pile the pasta on your plates, and add the chicken/sauce and generously sprinkle with the breadcrumbs/pinenuts. It’s strangely rich and tart and creamy and crunchy.  He will think you're a genius, though when he tells his mates about it tomorrow he won't really be able to describe it.

I first made this for a group of friends when we were all staying in a house in Southwold. One of our party had a habit of coming down in the morning in just a pair of loose cotton boxer shorts and sitting on the sofa with his legs apart. I had a habit of sitting on the floor in order to get the best view. Happy days!