About Chicken Cacciatore

By now you've probably gotten the hang of the old put-chicken-in-take-chicken-out-put-chicken-back-in cooking thing that's been going on in these parts (cf. this and this), so this recipe should be so easy I won't even have to explain it to you. But I will, because Santa knows I do like to babble (no I don't).

Like our chicken bog before it, chicken cacciatore is almost endlessly flexible, and it's almost endlessly flexible because when Italians go out into the countryside or wherever to do their hunting, they don't have grocery stores I guess? I don't know, I think something got lost in translation. But the ingredient list that follows is just the basics, so feel free to add whatever other vegetables you want depending on what's in season or what you pick up at the grocery store because I assume you're not out in the Italian countryside where they have no grocery stores. Apparently.

What you'll need is this:

• 2 chicken thighs
• 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
• ½ yellow onion, thinly sliced
• 1-2 garlic cloves, minced
• Salt and freshly ground pepper
• ⅓ cup dry white wine
• 1 can diced tomatoes

I also added a package of crimini mushrooms, cut into quarters. Also good: zucchini, summer squash, bell peppers, eggplant, uh... other vegetables.

Now, heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat until it gets all shimmery. Generously salt and pepper both sides of your chicken and brown them off really well for about 4 or 5 minutes per side. Then, remove your thighs and put them on a plate for later.



Add your onions and assorted veg to the pan like this:



and saute all that down until everything is softened and the onions have become translucent like this:



Add the garlic



and cook all that for up to a minute, then deglaze the pan with your white wine.



When the wine has mostly evaporated, add the can of tomatoes, with their juices. Give the pan a big stir to mix everything all up, then nestle the chicken thighs back in, skin side up.



Turn the heat down to a low simmer and braise the chicken for about 40 minutes, until your thighs are nice and tender and almost falling off the bone (TWSS or something).



Serve the cacciatore over a crusty loaf of bread or pasta or couscous or rice or polenta or WHATEVER ALREADY GOSH. And feel free to top that mess off with some fresh basil and parmesan cheese.



And as the Italian hunters say, Mangia!

About Chicken Bog

Well it hasn't exactly been quote-unquote cold in these here parts this season, but that doesn't mean you still don't need some down-home, rib-sticking, delicious Southern comfort food every now and again. And every time I'm feeling blue, you can bet this is what I'm making.

The beauty of this recipe is that it's infinitely adaptable. I mean, it's chicken and rice; every culture on the planet has a version (except those pesky vegetarians--what is UP with those people? (says the former vegetarian)). Mine started years ago with this Paula Deen recipe, and as you'll see it's morphed into something that may seem a little more sophisticated, but is really just a way to cram more vegetables in there (for the vegetarians, don't you know). Here goes.

For two hearty servings (plus lunch for somebody the next day), you'll--at a minimum--need:

• 2-3 skinless chicken thighs
• ½ cup chopped yellow onion
• 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
• 2 teaspoons creole seasoning
• ½ teaspoon cayenne pepper
• 1 bay leaf
• Salt and pepper to taste

and

• 1 cup wild rice
• 1 ¼ cup water, vegetable broth, or chicken stock

or

• ¾ cup long grain rice
• 2 cups water, vegetable broth, or chicken stock

I generally start with a mirepoix of a carrot, a stalk of celery, and about half of a small to medium yellow onion. Oh, and some fresh thyme never hurt anyone:



And when I happen to have them on hand, I also like to add diced red bell pepper and fresh jalapeno. But as you can see, they're not essential. Tasty, but not essential.

Heat up the extra virgin olive oil in something with a lid, and saute your vegetables, herbs, and spices over medium-high heat until they've softened up. Then add your herbs and garlic and cook for about a minute more until your garlic becomes fragrant and you find yourself suddenly compelled to smear garlic all over your body but don't do that because that would be gross. And potentially deadly if you happen to be a vampire.



Next, deglaze your pan with a splash of white wine or sherry or even a little beer if you have it. If not, just go ahead and dump in your water or broth, making sure to scrape up all of those little brown crusty bits stuck to the bottom of your pan.

Bring your pot to a boil, then nestle your chicken thighs in that delicious brothy hot tub.



If you like it then you should a-put a lid on it (groan, sorry), then lower the heat and gently simmer for 30-40 minutes.

At this point your chicken should be mostly if not totally cooked (don't worry if it's not; so long as it's not still completely raw, which I'm not sure how that would happen but stranger things etc.) so you'll want to remove the pieces to a plate. Then, add the rice to the pan.



Let that bubble away for 10 minutes. Meanwhile, using a couple of forks or those folk-like things attached to your wrists, shred the chicken thighs.



When the 10 minutes are up, add the shredded chicken meat back into the rice. This is the point where I like to clean the leftovers out of my fridge, so if I have any collard greens or mustard greens or turnip greens or kale or sauteed zucchini or squash or whatnot, I add that too. And then you just let that simmer for another 10 minutes while the rice finishes soaking up all that delicious broth.

Give the pot a little fluff job and serve with a little Tabasco on the side.



And dig in!

About Meatloaf

I don't know if you ever get this way--I don't know your life--but sometimes I just really, really, really want meatloaf. Like, a lot. Like, more than I've ever wanted anything in my whole entire life (even more than that red Corvette Stingray I really, really, really wanted when I was ten). So what's a girl supposed to do? Why, make meatloaf of course!

But here's the thing; meatloaf is kinda tricky. I mean, not that it's super hard to make or anything (it is just a log of meat, after all), it's just that I tried making meatloaf for years and years before I settled on a recipe that was just right. And oh, how right it is. And, AND! you're in luck, because I'm a-gonna spare you those years and years of wandering the desert like some sort of traveling Wilbury and share with you my perfect, perfect meatloaf recipe.

First up, pour yourself a glass of wine. Like so:



Then, get your shit together. And that shit is:

• 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
• ¾ cup finely diced onion (about half a medium onion)
• ½ cup finely diced green pepper (about half a small pepper)
• ½ teaspoon kosher salt
• 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• ½ tablespoon minced garlic
• 1 pound ground meat of your choice
• 2 slices sandwich bread
• ⅔ cup barbecue sauce
• 1 teaspoon chili powder
• ½ teaspoon ground cumin
• big pinch of cayenne powder
• 1 egg

(Quick aside: I normally make this in all of its full-sized glory so's to have lots of leftovers for sammiches and stuff, but this time I only made a half batch, which is what you see here. For your full-sized loaf just double the recipe and follow the additional notes I'll try to remember to include below.)

Step The First (after the wine and the getting your shit together and whatnot): Preheat your oven to 350 F.

Now, here's your veg:



Heat up the olive oil in a medium skillet until it gets all shimmery, then throw in the onion/green pepper portion of your veg with a pinch of salt and pepper like so:



Saute that for a few minutes until your veg is soft and the onions have turned translucent like so:



Add in the garlic and stir that up for about 30 seconds, and then pull your pan off the heat while we talk a little bit about MEAT. (I don't know why I wrote MEAT like that; just seemed like the appropriate thing to do.) MEAT.

You can use any combination of ground meat you want for this really, just be aware that turkey and chicken will end up a lot drier than beef or pork. When I make a big meat log I usually use a pound of ground turkey and a pound of ground beef, but this time I found this magical package in the grocery store:



(And I also know that we could have a friggin' year-long conversation about the evils of the ground meat industry, so by all means, grind your own meat. I don't have a meat grinder because no one bought one for us off our gift registry so I guess we'll just take our chances since we haven't died so far as far as I can tell. I mean, who knows, I could be writing this from beyond the grave OMG AM I A GHOST? WTF.)

While we're talking, we might as well talk about barbecue sauce too. Now, I know I could make my own barbecue sauce from scratch--and you're welcome to do just that--but why would anyone do such a thing when this is in the world?



(Seriously guys, Dinosaur Bar-B-Que is so fucking good.)

Where were we? MEATLOAF. RIGHT.

So those slices of bread.



Those are the ones. Take them to the kitchen faucet and soak them down with water, the squeeze that water back out like you were squeezing a sponge.



Yeah, like that. Now chop your bread spit-ball up into little pieces like so:



Fun!

And with that, we're ready to start assembling (initially I typed "assumbling" which sounds like a whole lot more fun whatever that is). Get a big bowl, and dump your meat in it. Then, dump in your sauteed vegetables.



Then, get your hands in there and mix everything together. And this is where it really helps that you've gotten your shit together in advance, because after you add each of the next ingredients, you're going to have to mix everything together with your hands. With your shit together in advance, you won't have to keep washing your hands. Without your shit together in advance, you cover your kitchen in meat goo. I think the choice is clear.

So. Add the chopped up bread mush and mix.

Add most of the barbecue sauce and mix.

Add the spices and mix.

Add the egg and mix.

Everything should be all mixed up uniformly now, which will give us the perfect opportunity to talk about pans.

Here are the two pans I own:



The one on the left is your standard 9 ½ x 5 ½-inch loaf pan, and is the one you should be using if you're making a full-sized loaf. Your meatloaf should completely fill this pan. The one on the right is some other weirdo pan that came with the set that's shallower and wider than a standard loaf pan, and it's what I'm using here. But since it's shallower, I didn't smoosh the meat all the way out to the sides; instead, I kept it tall and proud and loaf-like when I shaped it in the pan. Oh! Because that's the next step in the recipe: pressing your meatloaf mixture into the pan, and topping that off with your remaining barbecue sauce.



Then, pop that baby (but not your actual baby) into the oven and bake for 45 minutes (an hour and a half for the full-sized loaf).

When it's done, take it back out of the oven and let it sit for about 20 minutes, if you can wait that long.



Because believe me, the smells that will start filling your house are liable to make you want to chew your own arm off. I'm drooling just thinking about it. Oh man.

ANYWHO. When you're ready to serve, just pour off any fat that may have accumulated in the pan and slice the loaf into thick slabs of meaty goodness. Serve with more barbecue sauce, or ketchup, or A-1 (my condiment of choice), or whatever it is you like or nothing at all because have I mentioned this before? This is SO GOOD.



(And yes, those are my cheese grits. ALSO GOOD.)

About Shawarma Chicken

Happy New Year, little chefs! Once again it's time for resolutions, unless you're me of course because I never make resolutions, but I'm trusting that you're not like me because GOOD GOD why would you want that? And I'm trusting that one of your resolutions is probably to eat healthier, and eating healthier probably includes consuming a whole lot of skinless, boneless chicken breasts, and if it does, WHO BOY do I have a tasty one for you.

Today's recipe is inspired by Middle Eastern shawarma, which is like, so good you guys, and so figgin' easy to boot. Pretty much all you need is the marinade and a grill, which is funny because you don't even need a grill when you have a grill pan. Which I do!

So, let's get started. For the marinade, you'll need the following ingredients:

• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1 tsp curry powder
• 1 tsp freshly ground black pepper
• 5 garlic cloves, minced
• 1/4 cup olive oil
• juice of 1 lemon

which you just mix together in a bowl:



Next to prepare your chicken breasts. You'll notice they're pretty lumpy. Well, if there's one thing I can tell you with any amount of certainty, it's that lumpy breasts do not cook up evenly. So you'll want to de-lumpify them by butterflying the thick part and then smashing it all down with a mallet or the bottom of a small pan or something. (But do it between plastic wrap so you don't get chicken goo everywhere.)



Toss your chicken pieces into your bowl of marinade, cover, and refrigerate it for at least a couple of hours, or overnight if you have the luxury of time.



When you're ready to cook, heat up your grill pan over medium-high heat, then toss on your chicken.



Grill each side for 3-4 minutes, depending on how thick your breasts are (heh). You'll know it's done when you poke at it, and it stops being squishy (but before it turns into shoe leather).



When that's all done, remove the chicken to a cutting board and loosely tent it with aluminum foil while it rests for a few minutes. Now, this part is important: when you cut your breasts into slices, you're going to want to cut them AGAINST THE GRAIN. So in this picture, you'll see that the meat fibers are pointing in a sort of north-westerly direction, and I've sliced the breasts perpendicularly to that grain.



This ensures that your chicken strips will be tender and easy to bite through should you choose to stuff them in a pita with some hummus and lettuce and tomato and maybe some feta and onions, or if you'd rather just throw them on top of a salad.



You know, your choice.

About Cornish Game Hens a la Brasa

The one and honest-to-Santa only thing I miss about the suburbs is our weekly dinner at El Pollo Rico. And I know we already talked about how blah and boring chicken is, but holy shit this stuff is like crack. In slaughtered chicken form. Seriously, I know I'm the Queen of Hyperbole and all, but this shit is fucking awesome. It is so fucking awesome that last time Tony Bourdain was in town he ended up there just because every single person in the greater metro DC area was all, "GO THERE."

So he did. And he liked it.

And missing my weekly Pollo Rico dinners as I did, I decided (duh) that I would try to recreate a pollo a la brasa at home, except I don't have a giant rotisserie. And I keep using cornish game hens every time I make this. Why cornish game hens? I don't know, because they're cute. Also, how does one say cornish game hen in Spanish? Ah, córnico juego gallina. Thank you, Google Translate.

So, for the córnico juego gallina, you'll need:

2 hens, halved. (Or fine, use a whole chicken, quartered, if you want. Or a bunch of random chicken pieces. Either way you should have about 3 1/2 pounds of poultry total.)



How do you halve a cornish game hen? I'm glad you asked! Just pull out your handy dandy kitchen shears. Then use your handy dandy kitchen shears to cut out the backbone (save these for stock). Then take your chef's knife and slice the rest of your bird in half, right down the middle of its breastbone. (And feel free to trim off any excess fat or skin. You won't need them for nothin' 'cept cellulite.)



Throw these into a gallon-sized freezer bag and pour the marinade on top.



What's in the marinade? I'm glad you asked! You'll need:

1/3 cup soy sauce
2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
5 garlic cloves
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1 teaspoon paprika
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil

Dump all of this into a blender and blend until smooth. It's not 100% exactly like Pollo Rico's marinade, but it is about 83.2% like Pollo Rico's marinade. And damn good in its own right.

So now that you've dumped your marinade in with your poultry pieces, seal up the bag, squeezing as much air out as possible.



Throw the bag in a bowl in case of leakage (heh) (also, ew), and throw the bowl in the fridge. Actually, no, don't throw the bowl in the fridge. More like, place the bowl in the fridge with authority! And let it sit in the fridge and think about what it's done! (Which is die so that you can eat a tasty dinner.)

You're going to want to let that marinate for AT LEAST 8 hours, but more like 24. FOR FLAVOR. And every time you go to the fridge for, I don't know, a glass of water or a piece of string cheese or whatever, give the bag a little shake to redistribute the marinate. Gotta keep your dead chicken on its toes.

When you're ready FOR FLAVOR, take that bag of poultry parts out to your blazing hot grill, throw your poultry parts onto your blazing hot grill (but not the bag, because that would be melty (in a bad way)), and char the hell out of your poultry parts until the internal temperature of your breasts (heh) reach 160 F on your handy dandy instant-read thermometer.

Pull your meat off the grill (heh) (also, ouch) and let it rest about 10 minutes before serving. And then serve!

About Roast Chicken with Root Vegetables

So I have to give my apologies to the newly vegetarianized Heather Anne for this recipe, but it's been sitting in Google Docs forever waiting for me to get to it, and I've been procrastinating like hell about it, because COME ON, it's chicken, and even though this is a really delicious chicken, chicken doesn't get its reputation for being boring for nothing. I mean, what is there to say about chicken? They're birds and they cluck and if they're lucky they get to roam around eating their own vegetarian meals and having a happy, outdoorsy life until their heads are chopped off and their necks are stuffed back down into their body cavities and see? B-O-R-I-N-G.

But this dish is definitely not boring, and it's impressive-looking to boot, and the best part is how simple it is to make. Basically all you need is:

• A 3- to 4-pound whole chicken
• An assortment of root vegetables
• Olive oil
• Salt, pepper, and any other herbs and spices of your choosing

So preheat your oven to 425F. While that's heating up, prepare your veggies. This particular day I used fennel, turnips, parsnips, carrots and a potato.



Scrub your veggies thoroughly and then chop them up into 1 1/2-inch chunks. Try to make the pieces as close to the same size as possible so they cook evenly. Then toss your chunks (heh) with a little olive oil, salt, and pepper, and what the hell, throw some garlic cloves and chopped parsley in there for fun. And spread them all out into the bottom of the pan. (You can use a big roasting pan if you have one but I find a large skillet works well, and is easier to clean which is awesome.)



Now you get to molest your chicken! Squee! (I don't know.) Stick your hand up the gaping whole between its legs (heh) and pull out the little plastic baggie. In it you'll find your chicken's neck, liver, gizzard, and yes, heart. You'll probably want to throw this away, but me, I like toss the neck in the freezer for stock and chop up the organs into teeny tiny pieces and mix them all up in the veggies. Or sometimes Seth will add the livers to his world famous mushrooms on toast. But like I said, you'll probably want to throw it all away.

Rinse your chicken carcass inside and out and then pat it dry with a wad of paper towels. (This is so the skin browns and crisps all up in the oven, which is important because YUM.) Sprinkle the chicken liberally with salt and pepper both inside and out, and then place it breast(does a hyphen go here?)side down, either directly on top of your vegetables or on a rack placed over your vegetables.



And stick it in the oven!

After about 20 minutes it will look like this,



all golden brown and delicious, but it's not ready DO NOT EAT IT YET. Instead, flip it over onto its back, and I cannot stress this enough, for the love of all that is holy and good try not to burn yourself. Or touch the pan. Which is why I have three sets of oven mitts strategically placed throughout my tiny kitchen. And I use those oven mitts to give the hot pan a little shake to stir up the veggies.

Stick it back in the oven for another 8 minutes, then give a little peek inside to see whether the skin has started to brown. If so, great! If not, let it roast for another 2 or 3 or 5 or however many minutes it takes.

When you're ready, baste the bird with a little olive oil, and if you want to get real fancypants about it you can add some herbs and spices to the olive oil.



Lower the temperature of your oven to 325F, and continue roasting your chicken until the breast meat reaches 160F and the thigh meat hits 165F. And when you tip the bird forward the juices that run out of the body cavity should definitely NOT look like blood.

The whole process should take about an hour, maybe more, and when you're done it should look something like this:



But if you were to cut into it right away all the yummy chicken juices would run right out of your chicken and where you really want them is actually IN the chicken so DON'T DO THAT. Instead, put your bird on a cutting board, loosely tent it with some foil to keep warm, and let it rest for about 10-15 minutes.



And while that's camping out, take a fork and stab at the veggies. If there is any resistance crank the oven up to 400F and stick the pan back in for a few minutes until everything has finished cooking.

Back to the bird, and A CONFESSION: I have no idea how to carve a chicken. Gordon Ramsey says it's the easiest thing in the world, but I have my boyfriend do it anyway. Besides, it gives him something to do and usually isn't it always the head of the family who does the carving? Not that my boyfriend is the head of the family or anything, and especially not that the DUDE always has to be the head of the family because NUH UH NO WAY, but like I said, it gives him something to do.

ANYWHO, since I am of no help here, enjoy this lovely video, creatively entitled "How to Carve a Chicken." I can't vouch for the sound because my computer is on mute and I'm too lazy to unmute it, but the chef is relatively attractive so there's that.



And then there's this, the perfect plate of roasted chicken with root vegetables. (And salad.)

About Chicken with Mushrooms, White Wine, and Tarragon

It is often said that chicken is the tofu of the carnivorous world (shut up, it is) and this is used to justify the endless guilt trips that send you to ORGANIC! FREE RANGE! HORMONE FREE! poultry. And dude, yeah, awesome, get as many of those three things you can afford. I, personally, have no car, mortgage, children, or husband to speak of, and oh yeah, I'm a lawyer (albeit of the public interest variety), so I'm pretty much what they call "Recession Proof." And even though it's totally my job to yell ORGANIC! FREE RANGE! HORMONE FREE! whenever I possibly can, I'm also what they call "A Realist." Which is why, in this inaugural edition of in kat's kitchen (aren't lower-case letters so adorable?), I offer for your consideration a recipe to fancy up your Costco value pack.

Lets start with the shopping list, hmm? Like most of the recipes you'll find on this site, it feeds two, because Winston (cutest kitten in the whole wide world) doesn't eat people food. You'll need:

• 2 chicken breasts or thighs, skin preferably on. (I generally use thighs, because hubba hubba.)
• A package or so of mushrooms, cleaned and sliced. (This past Monday I used creminis, but man oh man, if I had access to San Francisco's Ferry Market on a regular basis you'd better believe I'd be using handfuls of about a billion different wild mushrooms.)
• 2 large shallots, minced. (For the record, I use shallots in just about everything; they're so boss.)
• About a tablespoon each of chopped fresh tarragon and thyme, preferably from your garden. (Or AeroGarden, if you're an 8th-floor apartment dweller like me.)
• 3/4 cup of low-sodium chicken broth. (I made mine from scratch the night before. I'm just sayin'.)
• 1/2 cup of dry white wine.
• Salt and pepper for seasoning, and flour for dredging.
• A wedge of lemon for squeezing.
  

To start, pour yourself a glass of that there dry white wine. Gotta make sure it's not poisoned, right? Then, gather up your mis en place. (Which is fancy French for "get your shit together.") Also, preheat your oven to 400F degrees.



You'll see I rather heavily salted and peppered both sides of the chicken thighs for FLAVA. Heat up a tablespoon or so of olive oil in a pan over medium-high heat (every stove is different, and since mine is super hot I use a 6 out of 10), and while that's heating up, dredge your thighs in flour to coat and shake off all the excess. (You want a very thin dusting, sort of like a baby's bottom. This is important to build the fond; but, too much will burn and make your sauce taste like an ash tray.)

Once the oil looks all shimmerey like a wishing well and is starting to barely smoke like a mildly annoyed genie in a bottle, add the chicken to the pan. Let the pieces sear on that side for about 6 minutes. It's important that you DO NOT TOUCH IT during this time, because once you start fiddling around before it's ready it starts sticking all over the place. Kinda like... never mind. ANYWHO, once you're all brown and crispy flip your bird pieces over and sear off the other side, another 5-6 minutes. Then remove to a plate.



This is important: your chicken isn't actually cooked through yet. AND THAT'S OKAY. You'll get there soon enough, and no, you won't get food poisoning letting your chicken sit there for a few minutes. And if you don't believe me, I suggest you never ever eat at another restaurant ever again. Also, I feel bad for you for missing out on all of the awesomeness this awesome world has to offer. What's it like living in your plastic bubble anyhow? I bet you have a lot of allergies. ANYWHO, there may be some excess oil accumulated in your pan; carefully spoon out all but about a tablespoon of this, and then add your sliced mushrooms, minced shallots, and chopped herbs.



Saute that all up for about 10 or 12 minutes or so, until your mushrooms release all their liquid and brown up, and the shallots get all caramelized and gooey, and the herbs smell SO GOOD.



And now, we deglaze the pan! (This is my favorite part.) First add the wine and scrape the bottom and sides of the pan real good so you get up all those lovely brown bits. (Brown bits = flavor.) Then add the chicken broth. Stir it all up and let it come to a boil.



Now, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, This? Is supposed to be a rich, velvety sauce? This is nothing but mushroom water! But like all good things, you, uh, gotta wait. Or whatever. ANYWHO, just let that keep boiling down for a while until about half the water in there has done the thing that water does over heat, namely, vaporize. You should notice that the proto-sauce has thickened up considerably, but that it's also still a bit runny. Kinda like this:



Well this is the perfect stage to nestle your chicken back in to all that mushroomy goodness. So do that, skin side up. (I assume you want crunchy, delicious skin.)



Then stick the whole pan into your preheated oven for as long as it takes for your thighs to reach 163F and your breasts 158F. (I use a probe thermometer to keep track of the internal temperature of my meats while they are in the oven, but an instant-read will work as well. Just start checking after about 8 minutes. (5 if you're using boneless breasts; also, heh.))

MEANWHILE, get some salted water a-boiling, and throw a couple handfuls of egg noodles in there, and boil them so long as the package says to boil them for. (You can easily substitute this whole step with regular pasta, white/brown/wild rice, couscous, mashed potatoes, assorted veggies... basically anything that goes good with sauce.)

MEANWHILE, chop up some more fresh herbs (this time I used tarragon and parsley) and throw them in a bowl with a blob of melted butter.



STAY WITH ME HERE, because this might get busy. When your meat has hit temperature, pull the whole pan out of the oven and remove the chicken to a separate plate. Loosely tent it with a piece of foil and let it rest for at least five minutes. This accomplishes two things: (1) The carryover heat allows the internal temperature of the chicken to rise a bunch of degrees and fully cook without drying out, and (2) the loose juices redistribute themselves about so they don't go running out all over the place as soon as you cut into your piece of chicken, thereby drying it out. Basically what I'm trying to say is NO ONE LIKES DRIED OUT CHICKEN.

Take a look at the remaining sauce. Is it thick enough? If yes, let it be. If not, pop it back on a burner over medium heat and reduce the liquid until you get not-nearly-the-consistency of jarred Thanksgiving gravy. As soon as you have it as thick as you want it (twss), give it a taste, and add a bit of salt and pepper if you think it needs it. And here is when I let you in on one of my not-so-secret secrets: mushrooms love lemon. So take that lemon wedge and squeeze a little juice in your sauce, give it a stir and enjoy the INSTANTANEOUS SUNSHINE.

POSSIBLY AT THE SAME TIME, your egg noodles will be just about done, so drain those in a colander and then toss them about in your bowl with the melted butter and chopped fresh herbs.

Now it's time to plate, and if you're anything like Jennie (or my college friend Jenny, although I already got her with the introduction of parsley) this is where I murder you just a little bit. Basically it goes like this: buttered-herb egg noodles, topped with a piece of chicken, and doused with the mushroom and wine sauce. OH MY GOD YOUR FOOD IS TOUCHING.



Man, that is so brown. But remember, brown is good. But so is green (environmentalist alert!), so here, have a salad:



This happens to be baby greens and cherry tomatoes dressed in freshly squeezed lemon juice and Spanish olive oil, and garnished with shaved Parmigiano-Reggiano. But, you know, Ceasar from a bag is probably good too :)