A few weeks ago I was lucky enough to catch up with an old college friend over coconut lime mojitos and edamame at Rockwell in downtown GR. The mojitos were fabulous, with just enough Malibu to take me back to my college days when Malibu and I were bff and then return me to the present before I could find myself passed out on a stranger's bathroom floor using my pants for a towel. The edamame was way too salty, I'd highly recommend asking for the salt on the side unless you want to leave retaining more water than an Atkins addict on a popcorn binge. The conversation was, obviously, excellent and between discussing her life as a professional tourist, ie flight attendant, of which I was and still am extremely jealous, my far less glamorous life coaching voice here in GR, her boyfriend who wants to marry her in Israel, and my boyfriend who pretends he doesn't hear me when I talk about getting married, she mentioned that she read my blog Feeling Seoul-ful from when I was living in South Korea and suggested I write another one, about food. And so, Sexy Food was born. I figured people were more likely to read a blog with the word "sex" in the title, and "Bitchin Kitchen" was already taken.
I love food. I have always loved food. I blame my ever epicurean mother to whom this post is dedicated. A former babysitter of mine loves to tell the story of when she suggested making mac and cheese for dinner and I promptly turned my cute button nose up at her and said, "Alright, but only if it's made with gruyere, cheddar is so 10 minutes ago." Alright, so I made that up. But I did ask for baked chicken which to a five year old is basically the same thing. Everything I know and love about food I have learned from my mother. I've learned that searing a pot roast before letting it simmer for hours in beef broth and red wine will, without fail, result in fork tender meat. And when I say, "without fail" I really mean it. Even if the oil gets way too hot, starts smoking, and sets off the fire alarm, causing you to panic and run with said pot out onto the front porch where you set it down on the polyester rug which promptly melts to the pot's bottom and then run the roast back inside with your bare hands before depositing it into a simmering pot of beef broth and red wine, it will still result in fork tender meat. I've learned that grapes are best consumed crushed, fermented, and poured from a glass bottle and that consuming them as such will not only result in a much better eating experience, but a far superior life in general. And most importantly I've learned the importance of presentation. My first job was at the local Dairy Queen and before I left for my first day of work, after being fully trained on the "ball" "curl" and "cone dipping" procedures my mother handed me my purple visor and said, "Remember Jessica, people eat with their eyes." Twenty minutes later I would find myself in the middle of a lunch time ice cream rush reminding my sundae slinging colleagues of the importance of whip cream placement on their banana splits, "People eat with their eyes."
Last weekend my boyfriend volunteered us to make Sunday dinner for his family. There would be nine people there, including his grandma who hardly eats anything, his dad who is watching his diet post heart attack, and his nephews ages 8 and 4. I was actually least concerned about the nephews who when asked what they'd like to eat, if they could have anything, would answer "steak and lobster," they are truly boys after my own heart. So I called my mother. An hour, and two glasses of red wine later we had decided on a recipe that would be tasty, healthy, and crowd pleasing while still letting me show off a little: "Chicken with White Wine and Shallots" better known in my family as "Lemon Chicken," which is funny because there's actually very little lemon juice in it (see recipe below). For dessert we decided on a trifle with angel food cake, fat free vanilla pudding, and fresh berries. Glorious.
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So Sunday afternoon we set off to the grocery store, recipe in one hand, cell phone programmed with my mother's number in the other. I'll admit I was starting to feel the pressure, we'd been dating for over a year but this was the first time I had been called upon to make Sunday dinner. Add to that the fact that he had previously bragged about my cooking, and that I'm my mother's daughter, and I think it's fair to say I entered Meijer as tightly wound as an Olympic sprinter on the starting blocks waiting for the gun to go off. I'd been training my whole life for this. Things were going well, we found actual chicken breast tenders which would save me time cutting breasts into strips, and black berries were on sale 3/$5. All I needed was a trifle bowl and we'd be set.
"Does your mom have a trifle bowl we can use?"
"A what?"
"For the dessert, you need a glass bowl that has a stem, so it looks nice."
"Can't you just use a bowl?"
"No. Does she have one?"
"I don't know."
"Ok, well we'll have to get one then. It's cool, I wanted one anyway."
"Are you sure you aren't going a little over board..."
And that's when I snapped. Over board? Because I want to make a dessert that requires a specific bowl? Why don't you just tell Picasso to paint with only one brush? Or Michael Jordan to wear Reeboks? Or Taylor Swift to perform live without auto tune?
"Fine. Then why don't we just make hot dogs."
And that's when he snapped. Hot dogs? Are you implying that my family only eats hot dogs? My family has had many fine dinners that are not hot dogs.
"I don't think that was a necessary comment, you don't need to attack my family."
"That's not what I meant at all." - As a side note, that really was not what I meant at all. Upon seeing my extensive shopping list earlier he had made a joke that, "Maybe we should just make hot dogs," as shopping to feed nine adds up quickly. Also, I would just like to make it known that there is nothing wrong with hot dogs. I love hot dogs. If I wrote the story of my life chapter 3 would be entitled, "My Love Affair with Hot Dogs," and would document how when I was a child my mother refused to buy them but forgot about a package left over from a school function hidden in the depths of the basement freezer. I discovered this package one afternoon while foraging for ice cream. For the next 3 months whenever my parents would go out for dinner I would run to the basement, butter knife in hand, grab the precious dogs from their secure location behind a bag of frozen blueberries open the package and pry one loose before scurrying back up stairs, carefully wrapping the dog in plastic wrap, and microwaving it until the skin popped open and it oozed delicious processed goodness.
"I'm sorry, I'm just a little stressed. This is the first time I've gotten to cook and I just want to make it nice for everyone."
"I'm sorry too. Let me make it up to you by pledging my eternal love and devotion, and funding a shopping spree to Crate & Barrel."
Or maybe not. But we did apologize and make an excellent dinner. The chicken was tender, the sauce not too salty, the asparagus crisp. His grandma even said it was the best dinner she'd had in "a blue moon," I'm not sure what that means, but I'll take it.
Chicken with Wine and Shallots
(Green Onions)
Makes Four Servings
Preparation
time: 25 Minutes
Cooking
time: 20 Minutes
3 whole boneless chicken breasts, about 1½ pounds salt if desired
and freshly ground pepper to taste ( I
cut chicken into strips)
¼ cup flour
2 tablespoons olive oil, or corn, peanut or
vegetable oil, approximately may need more
2 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon finely minced garlic
¼ cup chicken broth
1/3 cup dry white wine
Juice of ½ lemon
¼ cup finely chopped fresh parsley
½ cup chopped green onions ( white and
green stems)
1. Put breasts on flat surface to remove
peripheral fat or cartilage. Cut breasts
in half, then into 1½ inch pieces. ( I choose to cut in strips)
2. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Coat with
flour.
3. You will need 2 skillets in which to
cook this dish.
4. Heat tablespoon of oil in nonstick
skillet and when very hot, add about half of chicken pieces without
crowding. Cook, turning pieces so they
cook evenly. Have tablespoon of butter
heating in second pan and cook chicken for 3 minutes or until golden brown,
transfer to second skillet.
5. Heat remaining tablespoon of oil in
first skillet and when it is hot, add second batch of chicken. Cook 3 minutes or until golden brown all
over. Add to first batch of chicken
pieces. Add garlic and green onions/ shallots
let sauté for a few minutes/ and toss to blend.
6. Add broth, wine, lemon juice and
parsley. Cover chicken mixture closely
and let simmer 2 or 3 minutes. The flour will thicken up this delicious dish!
Bon Appetite.
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