Tarragon Chicken Salad

We have been doing some exciting things this weekend over here at Casa de Steele, including such delightful activities as: Raking Months' Old Leaves In The Freezing Rain, and also Dragging Twelve Heavy Duty Garbage Bags Full Of Wet Leaves Into The Garage, and then there was the Cleaning The Wood Floors With A Sponge And Bucket Before Breaking Down And Buying A Mop.

Oh, the joy.

I've got pictures to show you from our New Year's trip to Atlanta -- mostly of my niece, who is sprouting up like her pacifier is made of MiracleGro. (It is not.) But I am too tired to get up off the couch to go upload all the photos (including a few new knits I finished recently), so I'm giving you an older recipe I'd stashed away for just such a lazy Saturday.

I adore the Publix grocery store, specifically with regard to a Tarragon Chicken Salad they sell that I absolutely cannot find anywhere else. In my adventurous cooking spirit, I bought some tarragon and hunted through Epicurious.com to find a recipe that might come close to the revered Publix version.



The recipe I finally settled on calls for walnuts or pecans. I didn't have either, and I didn't feel like paying $8 for a small bag at the store. I did, however, locate an aging can of almonds in my food cabinet, so I toasted those up instead.



The assembly was prettier than the finished product. I am such a sucker for small piles of separately designated foods. I have no idea why. It is the organizer in me. (I also love color-coordinated displays of neatly folded items in clothing stores. I am so very odd.)



Once I got over my fear of messing up the perfect little ingredient piles, I stirred everything up into a delicious mess.



And OH. MY. HEAVENS. Was it ever delicious. I ate chicken salad sandwiches morning, noon, and night for nearly two weeks straight. People at work were starting to question my sanity (and the expiration date of the chicken salad). Regretfully, I had to toss the last cup or so -- I just couldn't finish it all. The inherent trouble with making something that only you will eat. Even cutting the recipe in half still left too much for me to eat all by myself.



(In protest of the Neverending Chicken Salad For Lunch, Steven had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Don't feel too bad for him, he loves peanut butter and jelly.)



Tarragon Chicken Salad (with Grapes and Almonds)
adapted from Epicurious

2 cups cubed cooked chicken (about 3/4 pound) (I used rotisserie chicken from one of those ready-made supermarket chickens)
1 cup almonds, toasted and chopped
1 celery rib, cut into 1/4-inch-thick slices (1/2 cup)
1 cup halved seedless red grapes
1/2 cup mayonnaise
1.5 tablespoons white wine vinegar
1 tablespoon dried tarragon
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper

Mix it all up and share it with someone who loves chicken salad as much as you do. (For example, invite me over next time you make it. I can pack away some chicken salad.)