How to cook stuffed chicken breast - Captain james cook for kids.
How To Cook Stuffed Chicken Breast
- Chicken is the meat derived from chickens. It is the most common type of poultry in the world, and is prepared as food in a wide variety of ways, varying by region and culture.
- Hastily or clumsily push (something) into a space
- filled with something; "a stuffed turkey"
- (stuffing) a mixture of seasoned ingredients used to stuff meats and vegetables
- crammed with food; "a full stomach"; "I feel stuffed"
- Fill (a receptacle or space) tightly with something
- Force or cram (something) tightly into a receptacle or space
- A how-to or a how to is an informal, often short, description of how to accomplish some specific task. A how-to is usually meant to help non-experts, may leave out details that are only important to experts, and may also be greatly simplified from an overall discussion of the topic.
- Practical advice on a particular subject; that gives advice or instruction on a particular topic
- (How To’s) Multi-Speed Animations
- Providing detailed and practical advice
- someone who cooks food
- English navigator who claimed the east coast of Australia for Britain and discovered several Pacific islands (1728-1779)
- Prepare (food, a dish, or a meal) by combining and heating the ingredients in various ways
- (of food) Be heated so that the condition required for eating is reached
- prepare a hot meal; "My husband doesn't cook"
- Heat food and cause it to thicken and reduce in volume
One of the worst, most insulting dates I ever had was with a guy who worked in television (yeah, go figure). He’d taken me out for dinners and movies and whatnot quite a few times and things seemed okay… so I invited him for dinner.
I’m not a great cook but… like many people… I have my few good special-occasion dishes. I made one for this particular occasion… a chicken thing, stuffed with seafood and baked in a wine and cream sauce.
He had said he’d be over by 5, so I’d planned dinner for 6ish. When 6 rolled around and he still hadn’t showed (or called), I figured he was due any minute… so I just kept the dinner warm in the oven.
He finally arrived around 8. No apologies. I went ahead and served the dinner. It tasted fine but, after all that time in a slow oven, looked rather grey and sickly.
Was he gracious about it? Hell no. He criticized with every bite. And then had the gall to say it served me right for cooking. In his view, I should’ve just ordered something from a restaurant or deli; he would’ve liked it better.
The incident highlighted major problematic differences in our worldviews. I had never seen the point of going out and buying things that I could make myself and… in my experience… the homemade versions were typically better, more interesting and… for those who appreciate such things… more unique and heartfelt.
He had exactly the opposite view. He couldn’t understand why anyone would waste time making something they could buy instead. And he accused me of being “hung up on sacrifice” (which conjured up crucifixion images).
Even when it’s really distasteful, I try to take criticism seriously… to understand how true it is… use it as a tool for self-analysis. WAS I hung up on sacrifice? I sure didn’t think so. I just had a low income and came from a do-it-yourself kind of background. I saw nothing sacrificial about it (and that was my last date with Mr. TV).
But now… I see sacrifice differently. I see how I’ve caved to convenience and laziness. I see how… now that I can afford to pay other people to do certain things for me… I do that more and more… And it’s its own kind of sacrifice. I’ve sacrificed my sense of self; my sense of self-sufficiency; my sense of accomplishment in every single area where I’ve stopped doing things myself, from scratch.
I think I most miss baking bread. It was so therapeutic; such an act of creation. Those round brown loaves, studded with seeds, were almost like my offspring. Making them every other Saturday morning was almost like a religious rite… and eating that bread every day was like a sacrament. I worry that we, as a society, have lost that connection to food… and to the land… and I think it’s why we’re so unhealthy (in a general population health kind of way).
When Mike and I moved in together, I continued making bread. But not for long. Partly because it was harder to keep up with that much more consumption. But mostly I guess I just gave up. The last batch I made flopped – probably because of our old, drafty house; it just wasn’t warm enough for the loaves to rise properly. I never even put them in the oven – just dumped them in the garbage. And cried, because they were so soft… so responsive… so alive. Those poor unbaked loaves in the garbage looked and felt so much like breasts… and, coincident with that, I think they took something of my heart with them.
Lately I’ve been hankering to bake bread again. I’m scared though, and I’m not sure why. Apart from the obvious fear of failure… why can’t I just do it? Once I start, it’s automatic – warm the milk, dissolve the sugar, melt the fat, and so on… I can see/feel/smell the whole process in my head. But can I get off my butt and do it? No. At least not right now. It’s like some part of me begrudges myself the satisfaction – or wants to cling to the “sacrifice” – the thing that allows me to hate this particular aspect of how my life has evolved.
I’ve turned out more like Mr. TV than I’d ever imagined possible. And I know have the power to change that… at least theoretically…
For now, though, I think writing about it is as close as I can get.
1 yellow onion, chopped
1 green bell pepper (large), chopped
3 stalks celery, chopped
3 tomatoes (medium, vine), chopped (use all seeds, juice, etc)
half bunch green onion, chopped
2 or 3 cloves garlic (or more), minced
1 boneless skinless chicken breast steak
1 can no-salt tomato sauce
1 cup (~) chicken stock
1 cup long grain rice
2 andouille sausage (Aidells is good for mass produced), sliced
butter, cracked pepper, Tony Chachere Cajun spice (easy!)
2 dark rich malty beers (optional, I guess)
This is cooked in one pot. I use a large stock pot. Just make sure whatever you use has a tight lid. Heat your pot to medium high. Open and begin to consume a beer.
Cut chicken into pieces and brown in butter (1/2 tbsp) – whilst browning sprinkle and toss with some Tony Chachere (ok if it sticks to bottom – the juicer ingredients will pick it all up). Set chicken aside. Sample a small fully cooked piece if you like. Go ahead, it’s tasty.
Fire another tbsp of butter into the pot with the onion and green pepper. Stir/scrape all the good stuff at the bottom of the pot left from browning the chicken – it should all lift and cling to the veggies. Add the garlic and celery. Keep this going for about 5 minutes or so, stirring a bit. Add the sausage. Another 5 minutes or so. Add the chopped tomatoes – another couple minutes. Add the can of tomato sauce and the chicken. Cook just above a simmer for 10 minutes or so, stir now and then. Still no top on the pot. Now add the rice and green onion and chicken stock. I really don’t know how much chicken stock I add – basically *just* enough for the rice to soak up - i don't like this dish soupy. Add some pepper and some Tony and stir. Top on the pot. Simmer for 15 minutes. Stir. Simmer for another 15 minutes.
Plate and let this stuff sit for a least 5 minutes – I usually will wait 10 or more to take a bite – it really retains heat! Plus, it’s a good opportunity to consume your second beer.
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