Chicken parmesan, courtesy of The Yankee

Does that make it Yankee Chicken Parmesan? Like Yankee Pot Roast? But he consulted Alton Brown for part of the preparation, and Alton is from Georgia, so…. Hmm. It WAS good eats, if I do say so myself.

Anyway, I took The Kiddo upstairs to play, and came back down to this:

The picture does NOT do it justice. It makes me want to disappear upstairs more often!

The Yankee tells me that he bought thin chicken breasts, marinated them in buttermilk, then coated them in breadcrumbs that I had made last week from leftover no-knead bread. He fried the coated chicken in olive oil in a cast iron skillet, then drained the chicken on a rack over paper towels — not just on paper towels; this made the chicken unbelievably crispy and yummy on the edges, even after baking with the sauce and cheese!

He fried the chicken breasts in two batches, then they went into a foil-lined lasagne pan. He covered the chicken in marinara sauce, then in full-fat (read: full-yum) mozzarella cheese, and baked long enough to heat everything and melt the cheese. He served it over linguine with garlic bread. OH MY HEAVENS it was good.

And, bonus! All that olive oil frying was so great for the cast iron. I used a spatula to push the used olive oil into a jar for the trash, then wiped the pan down with a paper towel. Look how pretty and shiny it looked after!

I think it’s a keeper. The Yankee and the skillet. 😉

No-knead pizza

I haven’t made homemade pizza dough in years, and the King Arthur Flour recipe was just staring me in the face. What’s a girl to do? Get cooking, obviously!

I cut the recipe in half because just The Yankee and I would be eating it (as discussed, The Kiddo doesn’t like anything), and it made one small pizza — perfect size for supper for two.

The dough as soon as I finished mixing it was nothing special — looked more like batter than dough, actually:

The next morning it was downright sloshy:

Then the kneading. I added a LOT of flour. A LOT. All patted out on parchment paper it looked pretty promising:

I baked it for about 10 minutes, then added toppings:

And baked into yumminess:

Verdict: Thumbs up. The Yankee said it’s a keeper. The Kiddo wanted to know where the Cheerios were. As always.

I wouldn’t call this perfect, but it was my first attempt. Next time I would definitely bake the crust longer before I put the toppings on. The KAF recipe said to bake till browned but I got impatient and rushed it a bit. Still, no leftovers = recipe success.

Risotto: not nom-proof

I love a good cooking challenge. And yowza was risotto a challenge at first. I know what you’re thinking: oh, like stirring is so hard? No, in and of itself, it’s not. However stirring for 25 minutes with a two year old in the kitchen? That’s a challenge.

As I say, though, I like a challenge. So, I keep making it. I make it, I eat it (oh the sacrifices!), then I watch this again — Tony Bourdain showing Real Risotto in Venice. I can tell you I’m not anywhere near attempting that flinging-splashing-splat move shown there (unless someone wants to volunteer to come clean my kitchen afterward), but it’s a sight to behold. And it gives me a good image of what my finished risotto should look like.

I’m getting there. And I’m sure enjoying the efforts!

Cultural divide Casserole

It’s cold here. Yes, it’s the South and I am a big baby about cold but I swear: it’s actually cold.

And cold, of course = comfort food.

This is where the cultural divide comes in. One of my favorite comfort foods is a dish my mother used to make:
~ ground beef, browned and drained
~ cooked pasta, usually elbow macaroni
~ red sauce, pretty spicy with lots of garlic and Worcestershire sauce
~ cheese, usually mozzarella and Parmesan

Everything is mixed together in a casserole dish and baked at 350 for about 40 minutes with a little extra cheese melted on top at the very end of the cooking. My mom called this Italian casserole.

My husband, The Yankee, calls this goulash.

Say what?

Goulash in my house involved runny-nigh-onto-watery tomato sauce with whole tomatoes and it involved egg noodles. Yeech.

So, my Italian casserole — what would you call it?