So very sorry I’ve been away. My computer (my life!!!) decided to stop functioning. I took it to a repair shop, they ran all sorts of tests, tried CPR and finally had no choice but to pronounce my baby dead. Thank goodness the hard drive was fine. Have ordered a new lap top, but it’s on back order (like everything else) and so I’ve been without a way to connect to the rest of the world. I’m using a friend’s system, so it will be a hit and miss since I won’t always have access, but I’m here for now. I’ve so missed everyone!
Pan Sauce. So simple, so delicious. There’s something magical about pan sauce. Maybe it’s the kiss of wine or the meat renderings themselves. All I know is that I adore chicken with a nice pan sauce. One of our favorites was Chicken Breast with Tomato-Herb Pan Sauce. Yeah, it was good. This is even better.
Happy Sunday Morning everyone! I love it when the Good Lord sees fit to bless me with another day. It’s important to remember to count your blessings, big and small. Just waking up in the morning is a blessing all its own.
A true Cornish Game Hen is a young female Cornish chicken about 5 weeks of age, weighing around 2 pounds. These hens are a large-breasted breed of English birds. No longer raised for commercial purposes, true Cornish chickens are raised by backyard enthusiasts and small specialty farms. These are poor egg-layers, bred strictly for their meat. True Cornish chickens are slow to mature, making them undesirable for commercial farms. So what are we buying?
As most of you know, Ina Garten is better knows by her Food Network show, The Barefoot Contessa. She regularly invites views, as though old friends, into her beautiful home in the Hamptons for good food and wonderful entertaining. Although not formally educated in the fine art of food techniques, she is as much a household name through her show, magazines and published works as Martha Steward or – dare I say – Julia Child. Who in their right mind would dare to tweak a Ina Garten creation?
Growing up, there were many things I remember that were “tradition” – something we just did, although I never knew why. Eating roasted chicken on Sundays was one such tradition. Unlike meals during the week, the big meal on Sundays was served earlier in the day, usually around two or three in the afternoon. Growing up in a big extended family, it was not unusual for cousins, uncles and aunts to gather together for Sunday dinner. Sundays were special. And so were roasted chickens.