There is something deceptively simple about chicken salad. It seems so simple, in fact, that many people destroy it in their attempts to improve it. That said, I'll tell you how I make mine.
If I set out to make chicken salad from scratch, as it were, I might start with a whole chicken and simply boil it. That would do two things for me: one, I'd have the cooked chicken, and two, I'd have a nice stock. That equation makes perfect sense to me, except that I find salad made from boiled chicken rather bland in its essence and the stock equally so. While it can be done that way, then, I prefer the more flavorable route of using leftover roast chicken as my foundation.
I could, therefore, simply stop by Sam's Club or another store that sells rotisserie chicken and pick one up, chooseing a variety that appeals to me: lemon-herb or barbecue or some other. I, however, happen to live with the man who makes the best herb-roasted chicken in the world. I basically gave you his recipe yesterday. Know that if we have no apples to stuff the chicken with, he has been know to use oranges, or peaches, or even dates and figs. There's something about having all that fresh fruitiness inside the bird as it cooks on the kettle grill that gives it a je ne sais quoi. (I belive that's blogese for "I can't think of what I want to say about it.")
In any event, the fruit on the inside and herbs on the outside create a chicken that is delicious all by itself. None of the blandness of boiled chicken breast for me! I chop the chicken into a fairly fine dice and do the same for a stalk or two of celery, depending on how much I'm making at one time. These days, with either two or three of us eating dinner at home, I try to cook with as few leftovers as possible, especially with dishes like chicken salad or coleslaw, that only sit well for about two days in the refrigerator.
I add a large spoonful of Miracle Whip--we're MW, not mayo, people--and a heaping teaspoon of my secret ingredient: homemade sweet red pepper relish. Voila! Chicken salad.
I know people who add nuts or grapes or chopped apple or something else, and, I must say, I just don't like it. Of course, this is all a matter of taste; far be it from me to tell you how to eat your chicken.
Last night we had ours with leftover coleslaw and whole grain sandwich thins. It was a comfortable, casual dinner that Michael could eat in the family room while watching the first half of the Orioles' game (later lost in the tenth) and I could eat in the kitchen watching the end of the local news.
For a variation, try adding a nice spoonful of curry powder and/or turmeric and some chopped onion, along with, perhaps, some just-thawed (not cooked) frozen baby peas, and you have a cool chicken curry salad. If you've got it, don't forget to chop some of the dark meat as well as the breasts for even more flavor, and if your diet allows, finely chop a little of the skin and throw that in as well. Yum!
Whether I've made a gourmet feast or I've put together a meal of leftovers, Michael always thanks me, usually more than once, for making dinner. That goes a long way. It's amazing what a sincere thank-you can do.