With some Waitrose Chicken thighs (I sometimes have ethics when it comes to meat), I covered them in smoked paprika, salt pepper, lemon zest & juice and fried them off with a finely chopped chili (seeds as well) and bulb of garlic. To prepare the garlic I bruised each clove by smashing it with the palm of my hand. This releases the flavour, but kind of keeps the clove intact and the skin stops it from burning. Whist the chicken was hanging out having a good time in the frying pan, I shoved some McCain chips in the oven, cos chicken & chips love each other. Once the chicken had released its sexual juices, it was ready for a good grilling. I grilled it until all the juices dried up to a sticky glaze and the skin became really crispy.
To serve, I picked some salad leaves from the Jardin de Balcon, sent the lady to the Co-Op to get some coleslaw and put a couple cheeky gherkins on the plate, just because it felt right.
This chicken really worked and I even had a cold piece from the fridge when I came home drunk last night. On the whole the meal had a wiff of CHD (Council House Dinner), but was redeemed by the gherkins and salad.