Miracle in the Kitchen...News at 11

A miracle happened yesterday. It was totally unexpected, which I guess by definition a miracle tends to be unexpected. What I'm trying to say is I was not looking for a miracle, I didn't think a miracle was possible, so it wasn't on the radar screen. Don't you just love when you receive a miracle that way?

Here's the back story, which isn't really much of a back story. I'm fat. I keep trying to lose weight. The only plan that ever shows any promise is Atkins. I get incredibly sick, very quickly of eating all the protein. The only meat that I can cook that tastes decent is filet mignon. I know, I can hear the whispers, "you've got to be kidding. Filet mignon? She couldn't just say beef? Who's she trying to impress?" My answer to your whispers is, "no one." In a nutshell I'm picky and slightly queasy about meat. You should see me prep meat. I cut off any signs of fat, even if it means cutting into the steak to remove marbling. I realize that marbling is supposed to be a good thing, but in my world it's a nightmare. I like chicken but I only know one way to prepare it and George Foreman's grill figures prominently into the preparation and the result is marginal and tasteless and most of the time dry.

Three days ago I got to that place where my level of digust with myself reached the point of "I've got to do something! NOW!" So it's back to Atkins, but the old problem looms large of how can I live on eggs, filet mignon, turkey bacon, cheese, and marginal chicken. I've got to try something to change things up or improve my cooking skills. There is a restaurant called Malvina's that serves a chicken marsala that I die for everytime. I thought to myself, "could I possibly find a recipe for chicken marsala and make it slightly resemble Sal's chicken marsala at Malvina's?" So I started searching the internet and came up with the simplest recipe that I could find. I then bravely went where I so often am reluctant to go...into the kitchen to try to cook.

As I said, the recipe was simple and straightforward. I carefully pounded the chicken within an inch of total disintegration. I lightly sprinkled it with flour. Fried the pounded and floured breasts in olive oil and butter for 3 minutes on each side. Then I added the white wine and brought it to a boil and let the chicken cook for about another 10 minutes. Removed the cooked chicken and added some more butter and chicken stock to the juices in the pan, stirring constantly. I tasted the sauce a couple of times and each time I was not very impressed. It tasted a little too salty and that was weird because I hadn't added any salt. But I pressed forward. I placed the chicken on a plate and covered it in the "salty" sauce. I was too "chicken" to taste my creation so I called the kids down and forced them to try it first. Being the supportive children that they are, they responded with, "what the heck is that?" and "did you cook the chicken enough? I don't want you making me sick." I know, they really do trust my culinery skills. Cody was the first to sample my efforts and I was shocked when I heard him say, "oh my goodness, this is sooooo good" as he dropped to one knee to add effect. It took a minute for me to fully comprehend that he wasn't falling down because I had just poisoned him, but because he loved it. Chelsea love it too and said that when she mixed the sauce with the rice it made the rice taste "awesome." Then it was my turn. I gingerly placed the first bite in my mouth and was greeted by a mixture of flavors that closely resembled Sal's chicken. I was in heaven and I'm the one who put me there. I cooked and I cooked well. That's my miracle.

Where was Dan in all this? He's not much of a meat eater, but he did sneak a couple of very small pieces of chicken on top of his rice and for Dan that's saying something.