
It was a blast today at The Martha Stewart Show. Did you check out my live blogging? It was a tiring endeavor, but worth every second. It’s interesting to go back and see my stream of thought too. (Did you know that Martha herself blogs? She does. Pretty cool.) If I could have had one more segment, it would have been one focusing on how to get the best photos. You can never get too much photo advice.
Now, onto the food.
Shawn’s birthday this year might just win a record for longest duration — 16 days. His birthday happened to fall on Labor Day, which would have been a cinch for celebration if the universe wasn’t conspiring against him. He works in retail and late night after late night kept pushing back our usual family get together — until this past Monday. And it was still another day before we had the (second) special meal I planned for him. See? The universe is up to no good.
Now, on his actual birthday, he requested teriyaki steak and mashed potatoes. I made it, he was happy, done. It might seem like a simple meal – it is – but it’s something he loves that I seldom make. I think that might relate back to the ‘simple’ thing…
For the family get together I decided to make another dish he loves. This recipe is a family favorite here. Good sharp cheddar rolled into a thin chicken breast. A salty strip of bacon rolled tightly around it and the sweet tang of honey barbecue sauce kissing the outside. Shawn calls this my ‘signature’ dish, so I’m officially calling it Chicken Ala Caron . . . shameless, I know.
I was all ready to make it: the chicken was out of the freezer first thing in the morning and defrosting. The bacon was unopened and ready to go. I even high-tailed it over to the grocery store for more cheddar. For a side dish, I consulted with other food lovers on Twitter to decide on rosemary roasted potatoes. Ready to go.
Unfortunately, the universe wasn’t having it. When I went to cook dinner that night, the chicken was still frozen solid. That has never happened to me before. Ever. I was in shock. The potatoes — already diced — went into a Ziploc with water and into the freeze. The chicken got its own Ziploc. No chicken for us. So, pizza it was. (I don’t like to use the microwave at all, let alone to defrost, so that wasn’t an option for me.)
That meant on Tuesday this had to hit the table. It did, and everyone inhaled it . . . I think we may have finally finished celebrating Shawn’s birthday. Until next year, that is.
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