Roast Chicken. There’s nothing simpler than roast chicken. And there are few things more delicious. You can use this basic recipe and change it up however you like: different herbs, different citrus fruits, different seasonings. You can even have a different attitude and see how that affects the flavor of the meat! Just kidding. But you can change what you’re wearing each time. The Cast of Characters: A whole chicken, butter, lemons, rosemary, and salt and pepper. And the will to make roast chicken. Throw the buttah into a bowl. Zest up at least two of the lemons… And throw the zest into the bowl with the butter.
My question of the day: Where would the world be without lemon zest? I’m so glad we had this talk. Strip off a bunch of rosemary leaves… And chop them really finely. Finer than this. Don’t be like me. Throw the rosemary into the bowl, too. Add some salt and pepper (I didn’t do this. Line a rimmed baking sheet with heavy aluminum foil and plop the chicken right in the middle. Tee hee! I’m so immature. Beans and Cornbread. Do you ever allow yourself to experience the wonderful simplicity of a big ol’ pot of beans? Honestly, there are few things more fundamental than placing dried beans into a pot of water, cooking them, and serving them to hungry souls. If life ever get to be too hectic—if the 21st century ever starts to infringe upon my peace—I just throw a pot of beans on the stove and all my cares and concerns instantly melt away.
They’re magical that way. You can do so much with a pot of cooked pinto beans: make refried beans for burritos (so much better than the canned stuff), add them to a pot of homemade chili, or adorn your delicious Brisket Chalupas (recipe coming soon.) Really, though, it’s hard to improve on the basic dish itself: a bowl of beans, seasoned either delicately or boldly—whatever your mood dictates. And cornbread. You know, when I was in seventh grade, my mom took me to New York City.
No matter. The Cast of Characters: Dried Pinto Beans, Thick Sliced Bacon, salt, pepper. Now. Mom? Nutella Bread Pudding Recipe. Creamy Herbed Potatoes. Okay. If you’re trying to eat healthily and eliminate fat and calories from your diet, I wouldn’t be a friend if I didn’t tell you right now to RUN. Run FAR AWAY from this recipe. It’s almost ridiculous in its blatant disregard for the rules of even remotely healthy eating, I tried to get embarrassed about posting it.
But I couldn’t. And the reason I couldn’t is that I wouldn’t be a friend if I didn’t share its deliciousness with you; it’s really that good. So I’m conflicted, is what I’m saying. Conflicted, confused, and jiggly. If I could throw out one of those three attributes, I’d get rid of jiggly. This is an elegant potato dish that I make on special occasions, adding different combinations of herbs and seasonings to complement the rest of the meal. They’ll make you really jiggly. The Cast of Characters: russet potatoes, onion, cream cheese, heavy cream, milk, butter, salt, pepper, herbs, and parmesan cheese. Begin by dicing a small white onion really finely. This is a mandoline. Spicy Dr. Pepper Shredded Pork. It came to me in a vision, this bizarre decision to cook a pork butt in Dr Pepper. Then again, so did my decision to get a Basset Hound. First of all: pork butt. It isn’t a pork butt at all, but a pork shoulder. Second, it’s just a wonderful cut of meat. It cooks up moist and tender and results in so much meat, you can either feed a crowd or stretch the meat into at least two or three different meals for your fam damily.
If you haven’t ever tried it, cook up a pork shoulder sometime soon. Here’s the pork shoulder. But as you can see, my local butcher calls it pork butt. Huh huh. I’m mature. Go ahead and unwrap it and I don’t care what they say—give it a rinse if you’re so inclined. I expect the USDA to egg my house tonight. Grab a big, fat onion. Peel off the outer layer… Then cut each half…in half. Separate the onion wedges and lay them in the bottom of a big pot. Generously salt and pepper the pork, then lay it on top of the onions, fat side up. Chipotle peppers: smoky, spicy, flavorful. Scalloped Potatoes and Ham. Happy Day-After-Easter! How was your weekend?
Did you dye Easter eggs? Did you eat chocolate? Did you eat ham? What’s your social security number? Just kidding on that last part. But speaking of Easter ham: they’re scrumptious, aren’t they? The thing about Easter hams, though, is that they’re enormous. This is one of my—but most definitely my kids’—favorite way to use up leftover ham. Thoroughly wash, scrub, bathe, massage, and manicure three pounds of potatoes.
Plus, they’re purty. Grab some of that there Easter ham. Or any ham. Cut it into strips… Then dice it on up. Dice up an onion, too. Then grab a couple of tablespoons of butter. Measure some half-and-half and heavy cream in a pitcher, then nuke it in the microwave (how else would you nuke something, Ree?) A little bit of salt (definitely go easy on the salt since there’s both cheese and ham in the dish)… And plenty of pepper. Just whisk it together so it’s all combined. Grate up some cheese. Stir it around and cook it for a minute or two… The Pioneer Woman | Ree Drummond. Fancy Macaroni.
I’m not going to say much. Just this: Make this sometime over the holidays. Serve it on Christmas Eve with your roast beef. Serve it the day after Christmas with a big Caesar salad. Eat it straight out of the pan after you’ve wrapped your last gift at 11:47 on Christmas Eve. It’s Fancy Macaroni. You want it in your life. Start with two medium onions.
Cut them in half from root to tip, then lop off the tops. Then peel off the outer layer and slice the onions into pretty thin slices. Meanwhile, fry up some bacon until it’s not quite crisp. Then chop it into pieces and set it aside. Melt 4 tablespoons of butter in a skillet over medium-low heat, then throw in the onions. Cook them, stirring occasionally, for 10 to 12 minutes. And now it’s time for my favorite time. Fontina! And Parmesan. And with that, Ree became a very happy woman. And finally, to add a little tangy creaminess, a hunk of goat cheese. So now we have the good stuff ready: cheese, onions, and bacon. And the Heavens opened up and sang. Vegetable Lasagna. I woke up yesterday knowing I was going to make vegetable lasagna of some kind.
It was meant to be, it was in the cards, it was predestined…it was fate. And I can’t explain my hankering at all. I simply woke up, got out of bed, and followed the light. I made vegetable lasagna in high school once. I can’t remember the exact measurements, but instead of something like four tablespoons of parsley, I did something like four cups of parsley. So really, it was Parsley Lasagna, and it was a long time before I could eat parsley after that. Not that my toes had anything whatsoever to do with my vegetable lasagna mishap, but it’s 6:00 in the morning as I type this and sometimes synapses fire that shouldn’t.
Yesterday I tweeted that I couldn’t decide between a tomato sauce and a Béchamel/white sauce for my vegetable lasagna, as both are common and delicious in an entirely different way. In the end, I was in the mood for tang and stuck with just tomato. See? Here’s what I made yesterday: Mushrooms. Chicken Satay with Peanut Sauce Recipe : Tyler Florence. Spinach Artichoke Pasta. I love spinach artichoke dip. I’ve loved it for over half my life. And I’ll love it till the day I croak or become allergic to artichokes. Whichever comes first. I posted my Spinach Artichoke Dip here over the (long, hot, thank goodness it’s over) summer, and it’s tremendously terrific. But a couple of weeks ago I decided to take a walk on the wild side and make a pasta version. And then I died from bliss. The Cast of Characters: Butter, garlic, spinach, canned artichokes, flour, milk, cream cheese, Monterey Jack (or mozzarella), Parmesan, salt, cayenne pepper, and (not pictured because I’m an airhead) seasoned Panko breadcrumbs.
Don’t get too attached to that there cream cheese, though. We’ll start by quickly wilting the spinach! Then throw in a bunch of minced garlic. Like a whole heckuva bunch. Throw in two bags of baby spinach (it shrinks a lot!) And stir it around until it just begins to wilt. If only my love handles shrunk so quickly. And throw them into the pot. Pour in the milk… Oh! Quick and Easy Roasted Red Pepper Pasta. I made this for a quick dinner last night, so I thought I’d share it with you this morning. It’s almost identical to a recipe I posted here back in ancient times, also known as 2009, but it’s much quicker, easier, and will leave more time for you and your husband to catch up on old Season 3 episodes of 24, which have recently been playing on some cable channel without commercial interruptions. Along those lines, I would like to say that I don’t think my central nervous system will make it to Season 4. I just don’t. Anyway, in the old, ancient version of this pasta, I took the time to roast the red peppers myself over the stovetop burner, and I added toasted pine nuts, which added a nutty flavor and a little crunch.
But last night, I had no time for roasting. I had no time for nutty crunch. I love, love, love these things. Start by grabbing any pasta you want. Pasta. Throw it into salted boiling water and cook it till it’s al dente. Then chop up an onion… And mince up some garlic. Mmmm. White Chili. I love white chili. And just like regular chili, there are as many incarnations as there are grains of sand in all the beaches of the world. Some white chili is soupy and creamy, with chunks of chickens and beans. Some white chili is vegetarian, without an ounce of chicken in sight. Other white chili, like the one I make, is more of a bean-centered delight—simple, warm, hearty, and filling, with plenty of flavor to spare.
But here’s what I do. I just love garnishing things! You need some chicken. You also need all of this out-of-focus stuff. Sorry! To cook the chicken, throw it into a pot… And cover it with water. Remove the cooked chicken to a plate, then use a couple of forks to remove the meat. Be sure to get all the dark meat first. You can grab some of the white meat, too. Grab a yellow onion and chop it up. Now smash three or four garlic cloves… Peel the cloves, then mince ‘em really finely. Throw in the onions… And the garlic… Throw the chilies into the pot with the onions and garlic…