Shuffle. Cut. Deal.

Well friends, I can tell you one thing. The worst day in the kitchen is better than the best day in the office. There is nothing that I have loved, hated, sweat for, bled for, or cursed, like cooking. That being said though, cooking, like crime, doesn't pay. Or it doesn't pay well and as I look at my bills piling up and my student loans looming large, I begin to realize that my job may just not cut it. I love it and I don't want to leave this industry that I've worked so hard to get into, but it may mean the difference between getting by and getting ahead.
Nothing is definite yet, and I'll never stop blogging. Just like I'll never stop cooking. I just may not be doing it for a living. But I know this much is true, working in kitchens is like working in a circus. Sometimes you're in with the lions, sometimes in the clown car, always working without a net. But it's still the greatest show on earth...

Baby It's Cold Outside

It is snowing today and I have an unexpected day off. I have a fire in my fireplace and a nice cuppa, not to mention some wool socks. I vow and declare that next year, they will be wool socks of my own creation. Since I'm home today, and I have a chicken in the fridge, there shall be some chicken and noodle made. Since it has been awhile since I gave ya'll a recipe, here you go. Make some when the weather is frightful.

Chicken and Noodle

1 rotisserie chicken

celery, chopped

carrots, chopped

rosemary, 2 tsp

thyme, 1 tsp

white wine, 1/2 cup

chicken stock, 1 carton

Now, this is not soup. It is a graceful melange of chicken and noodle-y goodness.

1. Pull the chicken off the bones. Save the bones and make stock. (what, you have somewhere to be in the snow?)

2. Pour the white wine and stock into a soup pot and add the chicken, veggies and spices. Cook until the veggies are al dente.

3. In a seperate pot, cook a 12 oz. package of egg noodles. I like the yolk-free because I have to watch my cholesterol.

4. Once the noodles are slightly less than al dente, drain them and add the to the pot with the chicken, veggies and stock.

5. Simmer all this together, stirring to mix occaisonally.

6. Salt and pepper to taste.

7. Spoon into bowls and serve with wine or a hot toddy.

So there you have it. Passed down to me by my mom who now has the silly thought that my chicken and noodle is better than hers. Fiddle dee dee is what I say.

Don't worry Mom, I'll never beat your mac and cheese.

Luck, Money and Chicken

Down in the South, we have a New Year's tradition: On New Year's you must eat blackeyed peas for luck, and greens for money. Rice and fried chicken are optional, but hey, you might as well start the new year off right. I cook spinach, because I dislike collard greens. But any leafy green will do. I didn't do bone-in chicken, since it's too much for just two people, just some chicken breasts. But here's a tip, get the thin-sliced breast, sometimes called scallopine. That way, once the chicken goes into the pan, the inside is done when the outside is. Saving chicken from burning, that's all I'm doing, folks.
So serve up some luck, money and chicken to your loved ones and raise a glass with me. Good bye 2008, hello 2009.

Here's to auld lang syne. Thanks for reading.

Fa La La La

Tis the season everybody. I'm not going to waste my blogging time trying to incite people to help those less fortunate. You all know the drill. Enjoy your holiday, share the love with those around you. Be blessed.

Happy Holidays.

It Begins

With the great timing that our government is known for, my student loans are coming due. Just in time for Christmas. Whoo. But because I am a fiscally responsible individual, I'm going to pay them. Even though they are never in a hurry to give me my money back. I'm no welsher. But if the automakers get some odd billions, I want my own bailout package. About 20 large ought to do it.

Tough Cookies

Kitchens are dangerous places. With knives in the hands of crazed, short-tempered people, deep wells of boiling oil, hot ovens, hotter steamers, something bad will happen to you. It happens to everyone. Rule number one of getting hurt in the kitchen is this: Do NOT cry. There's no crying in kitchens. If you whimper, do not let anyone else hear it. They will laugh you out of the kitchen. Literally. You can slice your hand open from fingetip to wrist and you had better just cuss a blue streak and put on a bandage. As my chef says, "You ain't goin' home."
My injury was very minor. You don't always have time to wait for things to cool down properly, so you burn yourself from time to time. Mine was on the edge of a fry basket I just pulled out of the fryer. You can see the perfect corner of the basket like a brand on my arm.
My mom used to say I was a tough kid, then turned into a wimp later on. Guess what Mom? I'm still a tough kid. So there.

Just try not to bleed in the food.

In Flanders Field

"Where poppies blow..."

Today is Veterans' Day ya'll. Take a moment or two to remember those who sacrificed so you could live free, and those overseas currently trying to make sure we stay that way. Say a prayer for them and indeed, for us all.

Freedom is not free.