My husband knows that when we go to a restaurant and if after studying the menu, putting it down, picking it up, putting it back down again, looking on the back, asking about the specials, asking a bunch of questions, and then asking the waiter to bring me a bunch of olives and orange slices from the bar….if after all that I order THE CHICKEN it’s because there is NOTHING else on the menu I want or can eat. I cook chicken at home. All the time. If I wanted to eat chicken I’d stay home, I don’t want to eat it when a professional is making it for me. I like making those chefs earn their $1.50/hour wage…make me something I can’t make myself at home for heaven’s sake!!!!!
OK on to the chicken recipe now that I have a) revealed what a giant pain in the ass I can be b) that I am, in fact, married to a saint and c) you can correctly assume that we are big tippers. Continue reading