Life of Wry

I chose a recipe for tonight based on ingredients I had on hand, and wow was it good! It was my first Christopher Kimball recipe, which I debuted in 2020 — the year of my return to the kitchen. (Pandemic? Nothing else to do? If not now, when?)

I think he called it “Roasted Chicken with Tomatoes and Herbs” or somesuch. Chris Kimball recipes are known for their intense flavor, and this was no exception.

You start by putting into an oven-proof pan: red onions, tomato, garlic, olive oil, herbs (he calls for fresh oregano and rosemary, both of which I have, but it was raining and I didn’t want to get wet/muddy, so I used a big handful of dry Italian spice blend), salt and pepper. Toss that all together, then add chicken broth and wine and push the whole concoction to the perimeter. Then you salt and pepper some chicken (I used b/s thighs) and add them to the center of the pan, stick it in the oven and bake for 40 minutes at 450. At the end of the roasting part, there’s supposed to be a lot of liquid in the pot that you are then to reduce, but in the three times I’ve made this dish, there has been no liquid at the end of the roasting part, not sure why. Still, I put the pan on the stove as directed–removing the chicken first–added some lemon juice and more olive oil and warmed and whisked all that together. This is one intense sauce! You add the chicken back and serve (over rice in our case). Hoo boy, it’s good. And easy to make.

A couple shots.

This is the onion, tomato, garlic, s/p, herbs and oil:

And this is the finished product over brown basmati, with broccolini, and some Sonoma-Cutrer chardonnay (since it was the only wine I had and needed to be opened and used as cooking wine).

Yes, ma’am! Won’t wait three years to make this again.

When ants invade….

I’m tellin’ ya: I’m outa patience on this ant thing. Out of patience, unamused, so over it, at my wits end.

The rains in the last few days have brought the ants back with a vengeance.. they’re in all their old haunts, and have discovered a few new ones. I’m overwhelmed, bordering on despair, and very tired of our soapy water solution (which drowns the ants but doesn’t eliminate them). I swore, yelled and said some very nasty things to the ants in the laundry room tonight, then I marched into Jim’s office and made my petulant little announcement that I’m not going to clean them up anymore. I’m done being nice to the ant race, I want poison in the form of a professional service that will come out and take care of my problem in exchange for money, and at the expense of the environment and animalkind. I don’t care anymore. Jim–Mr Sensible, Mr This Doesn’t Bother Me, Mr Patience for all things–assures me they will go away when Northern California finally dries up, and in the meantime, he’ll reposition the environmentally-approved, colony-killer pods we spent a lot of money on (which should–but don’t seem to–work) to some more strategic and, importantly, dry locations around our perimeter, including one at the front door. Maybe this time, it’ll work! It’s been my observation, however, that the ants don’t come in through doors and windows. They simply, mysteriously, materialize in random places, seemingly through walls and through floors.

Actually, I don’t wanna talk about this anymore. I’m too frustrated. I’m going to bed and letting the ants do their ant thing while we sleep in a so-far untouched-by-ants bedroom. I just don’t have a blog in me.

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So, instead, how about some cranky humor? This has nothing whatsoever to do with ants, but it kind of checks off the cranky box!

Good night!