Friday, March 21, 2014

Inauguration

I've been interested in writing ever since I was a child. In fact, I even made the brief foray into the scholastic life of an English major before life itself got in my way, and I had to withdraw from school and get a job. I've made many broken attempts at taking a stab at writing something more meaningful than a shopping list, but I always seem to abandon ship somewhere along the way.

I'd like to set the bar low. I have a little bit of an expectation that this project is a project that I might drop like a smug rapper drops a mic after an epic rap battle. That said, my boyfriend (manfriend?) is constantly encouraging me to write, to be creative, and to embrace the process. Perhaps if I write about something that I have to do every day, like cooking, then I'll be more interested in keeping it up.

Tonight, over a dinner of chicken piccata, we had a conversation that was almost reminiscent of the conversation between Julie Powell and her husband in Julie and Julia. It went something like this:

Me: This is what I should write about. Trying new things in the kitchen.
Him: So write about it.
Me: Maybe I will...

For once, I'm actually exhibiting some follow-through. Let me just explain why this was happening. Tony, my manfriend, had never tried chicken piccata until tonight. He's one of the pickiest eaters I've ever known. (The man doesn't even like cheese, and it isn't a matter of lactose intolerance.) Lately, he's been more adventurous, and when he finds a dish that he's interested in trying, I'll make it for us for dinner. As a result of his recent inspiration to branch out, we've been making a lot of new dishes in the kitchen. I figure since he's been willing to branch out culinarily, I should be willing to branch out artistically. There's balance. We're both putting ourselves out there, perhaps to be grossly disappointed.

I mean to take pictures of the things that I make, but since this blog was a last minute decision, I am lacking in pictures for this entry. However, the chicken piccata was a smashing success. I made it for the first time this evening, following Rachael Ray's recipe (found here--though there's also a modification of the same recipe in this month's issue of her magazine). I used the recipe more as a guide than a religion, and it turned out pretty much perfectly.

Chicken piccata tastes like summer to me. It's has a fresh citrus edge. The parsley, which has always tasted a little like grass to me, gives it a little something extra that reminds me of summer evenings. The capers add the salty, briny bite that really complete it. Plus, it's made with wine, and I find that most things made with wine are exceptionally delicious.

Tony declared it the best thing that I've cooked for him thus far, which makes it a great triumph indeed. It's a recipe that we'll be repeating in our kitchen.

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