The recipe I make most

No-fuss Chicken Kyiv, with a backstory!

The chicken Kyiv from my book, photo, Maude Chauvin

Looking for something to make for dinner this week? If so, consider this dish, hands down the most requested under my roof. I call it No-Fuss Chicken Kyiv, and there’s a definite back story to this recipe.

(Please note: I’m using the proper “Kyiv” here to refer to the capital city of Ukraine instead of the former “Kiev,” the Russian name with which you may be more familiar.)

Chicken Kyiv, the one we all know and love

While working on my first cookbook, Chez Lesley (Make Every Dish Delicious in English), I wanted to include a recipe for Chicken Kyiv, an old-school dish I adore and always choose when I see on a menu. I love it so much that I recall ordering a box of frozen chicken Kyiv back when salesmen used to go door to door selling frozen food. That 24-portion box cost a fortune and I’m sure the filling was cut with margarine, but no matter because I relished every one of those garlicky, herby chicken bombs. I was devastated when we ran out and sadly, the frozen food guy never came back. Come to think of it, no one does that anymore (do they?) but back in the 80s, pre-Costco, it was a definite thing.

Anyway, while working on the book, I decided a chicken Kyiv recipe was a must for the butter chapter. I had made it before with some success, pounding the chicken breast, folding it over a frozen quenelle of garlic butter, fastening the whole thing with toothpicks, rolling it in bread crumbs and frying it to golden crispness. I would then place these little chicken parcels to warm in the oven (praying the butter wouldn’t leak out) and then set it on bed of rice for each portion. Once served, I’d playfully instruct everyone to “look out!” hoping that when the crispy chicken was pierced, a stream of hot butter would come busting forth. What fun!

The classic way of rolling chicken Kyiv.

So I set about writing my version of the recipe, picking up the chicken breasts and dill, whipping up the garlic butter and shaping it into quenelles. But when I began pounding the chicken into uniform flat filets, the meat started to fall apart. I tried rolling the chicken around the butter but forget it, the chicken was so limp that there was no way the butter wouldn’t leak out.

I was so pissed off dismayed by the whole operation (chicken ain’t what it used to be) that I cut my losses, breaded the chicken breasts and fried them up, schnitzel-style. I then piled them up on a platter, plopped the butter quenelles overtop and sprinkled over all the extra dill I had on my cutting board. I placed the platter on the table, poured myself a glass of wine and sulked.

Then I watched as the family oohed and aahed over the dish. Granted, there was no spurting butter action, but everyone was raving. I tasted it, loved it, and soon was fighting over the last piece. Maybe chicken Kyiv isn’t so much about the perfect little package, I thought, but the delicious mix of crisp chicken, butter, garlic and dill. So a new recipe was born, and I’ve never even considered making it the classic way since. It has become a favourite for special occasions, or just whenever. My kids even made it for themselves while I was away and trust me, if my two sons can make chicken Kyiv, so can you.

The chicken with the butter, just before reheating it slightly so the butter begins to melt.

Chicken Kyiv was my Ukrainian grandmother’s favourite dish, and she was extremely particular about its makeup. The star ingredient is dill, so don’t leave it out. You could make it solely with parsley or substitute tarragon for the dill, but then you’ll have something completely different.

If you’re up for trying the classic rolled version, you can use the recipe for the butter, yet be sure you purchase top quality, large and firm chicken breasts to avoid them falling apart when you pound them.

But trust me, with my recipe your stress level will be significantly diminished.