My son is a great kid. He has no illusions of what his Mom is and is not. He knows for sure that I am no cook. Sure, I make things for us but it really is not the thing I am known for. So for him to ask me to make something specific to eat, you know I must oblige, This week he asked for Lasagna soup, a recipe I found on the internet (afarmgirldabbles.com). I’ve made the recipe a few times and CJ did enjoy it. So, I agreed with his request with one condition, that he assists me in the kitchen. I have a belief: young men from my youth were so unfamiliar with the function of the kitchen, they could starve without a girlfriend. I determined when I had a son that he should and would learn how to use the kitchen (and the laundry, as well, but, of course, that’s another conversation for another day). Knowing me the way he does, he agreed to my stipulation. We went the grocery store and purchased our ingredients. Once the groceries were out of the way, we descended upon the kitchen to make dinner. Despite a brief episode with the chopped onions, CJ was an excellent assistant and our soup turned out hot and satisfying.
I am not sure how this keeps happening but it seems that Tuesday is the day I try something out of the ordinary. Maybe because it’s the beginning of the week or, possibly, because no one eats at home Friday, Saturday or Sunday. Whatever the reason, Tuesday seems to be the day I will try something different (or in the words of my young cousin, weird).
So, I still have a fair amount of feta cheese in the fridge so I know that I am going to use that but I am equally certain I do not want to do pasta again. I had caught a glimpse of a chicken burger in a magazine and thought it looked interesting. Unfortunately, I didn’t buy the magazine so I couldn’t follow the recipe that peeked my interest (oops). So I begin at Google and I find a rather large number of recipes but it seemed each one incorporated something that either would not have appreciated by me or my family. Each member has a list of things that we simply can not eat. Mine includes (but not limited to) beans, tofu, and cheese inside of meat. I don’t know why but since I was little that last one just never seemed like a good idea, but I digress.
After checking out a few recipes I get a general idea of what I will and will not do. I stopped by the grocery store to pick up ground chicken, buns, and, of course, basil. The rest of my ingredients, (garlic, onion, egg, bread, butter, sundried tomato pesto, seasonings, and feta cheese) were already at home. After a bit of a drive, we arrive home and I assemble the ingredients into patties and cook them on my George Foreman grill. The patties were removed and topped with sundried tomato pesto, fresh basil, and feta. All things considered, it turned out okay.
Living on a budget is not an easy task. Eating well on one, nearly impossible. This author has put together a collection of recipes for people with limited incomes. Her cookbook is distributed free online (as a pdf) but aspires to have hard copies to reach her target audience. Check it out here http://www.leannebrown.ca/cookbooks/
Who hasn’t gone to an eatery and ordered something absolutely delicious only to find out that our stomachs (or our spanx) simply will not allow us to finish it? Sure, we stopped asking for “doggie bags” because (1) Doesn’t the dog have it’s own expensive food and (2) Fido will never see this plate. Instead we ask for a “to go” box.
So, I’ve managed to get the food out of the restaurant, now what do I call it? Leftovers sounds, hmm….callous. It just doesn’t do my dish justice.
On Sunday, my extended family gathered to celebrate the birthday of my cousin. She is an amazing young lady that I am a bit proud of, but I digress. We all gathered at a restaurant named Made in Asia and had great meal. It did not take long for me to realise that there was no way that I was going to finish my lovely plate of Thai Basil Fried Rice Fried rice with fresh Thai basil leaves, bell peppers & string beans (so yummy).
The upside of my dilema is that I now had a wonderful lunch for Monday. I could barely wait until it was time for me to liberate the flavors gathered from the night before. I was glad to see the microwave was fresh, free and waiting for me to heat things up. So, given my feelings, there is no way that this was “leftover” . I dub this meal, Dinner, The Sequel.
I love to order from a menu. I’m good at it, but every once in awhile you have to eat at home. Tuesday was that type of night. With a limited budget and even more constrained skills I entered the local grocery store in search of ingredients.
In this instance, I think it is pertinent that I say that I live in the rural south but I know nothing about “down home cooking” except how to eat it. So when I saw that my local grocer was putting a line of feta cheese on clearance because they were going to stop selling it last week I was glad (for the bargain) and sad (because now I’m going to have to drive a bit further for feta). So, I knew that dinner would probably star my cheese find from the week before.
First stop was the produce department. My son, (a young teen with a similar pallet) spies the grape tomatoes and they are on sale (about $2.50). Okay, I think, but if there will be tomatoes, then I must have fresh basil (not on sale but doable at $2.79). Now we are going to need a protein. I found fresh chicken breast tenders on sale for $3.51. Perfect because they will cook up quickly and it’s getting late.
So after a rather long commute and a trip to the grocery store, I saunter into the kitchen without a hint of a recipe or a plan. The only logical thing to do is….wash the produce and prepare my pasta water. Maybe an idea will solidify as I prepare the veggies. So I wash my produce and then open the chicken to give it a good rinse as well. I put it in a bowl of salt water to wait for further action as I cut the tomatoes. When the tomatoes are done, I turn my attention to the chicken and pasta. I place about a half pound of vermicelli into the oiled and salted boiling water and I remove the tenders from the water and place them on wax paper to season. I take out the sea salt, peppercorns, cumin, and oregano from the spice cabinet and coat both sides. In my skillet I pour a healthy amount of olive oil and turn the temperature up. It is at that moment I realize that I had forgotten the garlic so I pull out 3 small cloves and quarter them and throw them in the oil. Just as they had begun to cook, I added my chicken tenders, frying them on both sides until a golden brown. Once they are done, I remove them and the garlic from the pan and place them on coffee filters to drain.
I look in the frying pan and I have oil and the crispy bits of chicken so I add about a tablespoon or so of butter and grab the white wine from the cabinet. They steam up in the pan and I throw the tomatoes in. As their skins begin to wrinkle a bit, I toss the cooked pasta into the mixture along with my fresh basil. The pasta/tomato combo is then placed in a casserole dish with the chicken layered on top. I crumble my feta in last, close the dish and call the family to the table (I know how long it takes them to come when called so the feta had a good chance of beginning to melt). We all put some on our plates and even my hardest to please pallet seemed satisfied. My mom asked me what it was called…I still don’t know.
My son is a great kid. He has no illusions of what his Mom is and is not. He knows for sure that I am no cook. Sure, I make things for us but it really is not the thing I am known for. So for him to ask me to make something specific to eat, you know I must oblige, This week he asked for Lasagna soup, a recipe I found on the internet (afarmgirldabbles.com). I’ve made the recipe a few times and CJ did enjoy it. So, I agreed with his request with one condition, that he assists me in the kitchen. I have a belief: young men from my youth were so unfamiliar with the function of the kitchen, they could starve without a girlfriend. I determined when I had a son that he should and would learn how to use the kitchen (and the laundry, as well, but, of course, that’s another conversation for another day). Knowing me the way he does, he agreed to my stipulation. We went the grocery store and purchased our ingredients. Once the groceries were out of the way, we descended upon the kitchen to make dinner. Despite a brief episode with the chopped onions, CJ was an excellent assistant and our soup turned out hot and satisfying.
