Tag Archives: Chicken

Timing Is Everything

The late afternoon stretched before me like a blank sheet of staff paper.  But one little technological glitch after another kept me my progress slow; between 4 and 6 I got maybe 15 minutes of work done.  So when she pinged to say which train she was on, I realized my plan to have dinner ready upon her arrival would need revising.

The idea was chicken with mushrooms over farfalle pasta, but there would have to be more to it than that.  I diced an onion and sautéed it with some garlic to get the party started.  A pot of water was salted and set to boil.  I looked up to see a can of artichoke hearts on a cupboard shelf; it was easy to see, since all the cupboard doors have been removed for refinishing. I drained the artichokes, filleted the chicken, heard the water boiling, and tossed the pasta in. And saw the clock: it was time to leave to meet her train.  I took the pasta pot and the sauté pan off the heat, put the chicken back in the fridge, grabbed my keys and ran.

We got home, and the pasta was perfect. Who needs 10 minutes of boiling when you’ve got carryover heat to take care of business?

The convergence of sautéing chicken, answering a house painter’s phone call, and assisting with first aid for a neighbor who’d fallen while running nearly derailed the whole thing, but not quite. 

Dinner was splendid.  And, for us, served early.

Timing is Almost Everything. (Good ingredients help, too.)

Timing is Almost Everything. (Good ingredients help, too.)

One More Time

We’re both big fans of repurposing.  

She can turn an glass jar into a beautiful vase in no time flat. An ordinary little table here is suddenly a perfect nightstand there. She is kind of masterful at re-combining wardrobe items into new outfits. (I tell you, the girl can dress.) 

My repurposing is done mostly in the kitchen. If the recipe calls for tomato sauce and we’re out, how about V8 juice, tomato paste, and some oregano?  Almost-stale donuts? Bread pudding. Random vegetables and a little protein?  Fried rice. I filled omelets for breakfast with bits and pieces from the previous night’s post-Christmas party, and her mom approved in a pretty serious way.

But you don’t always need to repurpose.  Repetition isn’t always a bad thing. (Her favorite thing to do with Thanksgiving leftovers is have Thanksgiving dinner again.)

And thus, on Friday night, there was fried chicken, corn on the cob, and sliced tomatoes.  And, okay, a few steamed green beans that were so good I thought about making more. She savored the last bites of corn, and sighed. “If this is the last of the summer’s corn, I want to make sure I enjoyed it.”

It’s not; there’s another ear in the crisper. At least there was when I left this morning.

Crunch Time

Her sister’s sons–adorable little boys–are picky eaters, so it was big excitement for sis to include some paprika in the cracker-crumb breading for the chicken nuggets she made them last night.

“Crackers?” I said.  “She wants the boys to eat homemade nuggets, they should be covered in crushed pretzels.”

“You’ve done this?” she asked.

“No, but it would work.” I was just trying to think of a crunchy snack the boys would like–and that she would actually serve them.  Cool Ranch Doritos-covered chicken, probably not so much.

We started thinking about some terrific beer-battered fish we’d made one night in early Spring, and that we could do something very similar with the chicken I was defrosting.

Two chicken breasts, deboned, yielded six good-sized chicken strips, with the bones added to a bag in the freezer; that stock will become, when the bag is full, stock.

The strips got a quick dredge in flour seasoned with salt, pepper, and lots of sweet Hungarian paprika, a dunk in batter made with a Rolling Rock I keep on hand for such purposes, a roll in multigrain cracker crumbs, and three minutes a side in half an inch of 350ºF canola oil.  The cooked ones kept warm on a draining rig in the oven until all were finished, and were served with CSA-fresh corn and sliced tomatoes. The crust was crisp, the chicken perfectly moist. I envied the little boys their broccoli, but she tells me they probably didn’t eat that.

After dinner, I dashed to the basement and returned with a cardboard paint bucket to store the leftovers. They’re not a bit oily, but the porous container will keep the crust from getting mushy.

When we try Cool Ranch Doritos-covered chicken, it’ll probably have to be baked rather than fried, but I suspect we won’t need a bucket to store leftovers.

The bucket says "wet," but the chicken is not.

The bucket says “wet,” but the chicken is not.