Food Adventures EP2 – Dijon-Crusted Chicken Breasts

I’m gonna start calling these Food Adventures, unless either I or someone else comes up with a better name. Not terribly creative, I know, but that’s just how I roll. I’ve been trying to keep my big cooking surprise on Valentine’s Day a secret from Sugar Daddy, but it’s a bit hard when he’s the one helping me eat all of these experiments. I think he’s got a pretty good idea of what’s going on anyway, but I don’t think he’s going to complain anytime soon. Today’s food adventure uses a lot of the same ingredients as the last one, since I still have those on hand. I did decide to do something a little different though. Without further ado, I present: Dijon-Crusted Chicken Breasts, Creamy Garlic Shells, and Broccoli Florets.

DijonChicken

I got the pasta cooked perfectly this time, and I think it complemented the chicken really well. I decided to do a different sort of flavor with the chicken this time too, using a Dijon mustard/bread crumb mixture to coat the chicken in before I baked it. I personally was a pretty big fan, but Sugar Daddy said that he liked the Basil better, the Dijon was a little strong for him. Something for next time I guess, oh well. At least I know not to surprise him with a plate of mustard for Valentine’s.

Usually I buy just enough groceries every week to get us through the next week, although we do end up having some extra little cuts of meat lying around. I’m not a big planner on what to get unless I’m planning something special. Problem is, most of the ingredients I get come in these huge servings. A couple months ago, I got a hankering for some oatmeal raisin cookies, but I didn’t have any oats lying around. I went to the grocery store, and the only thing they had was this huge tub of oats, so you can see my predicament. I made the cookies, but now I’ve just got a lot of oats lying around till I get another craving. Same deal here. I’ve  got a lot of extra ingredients lying around that I gotta figure out something to do with. The pasta is fine, and I’m almost out of chicken, but I ended up getting way too much broccoli for the two of us. I’d probably have to eat it every meal for the next few days to get rid of it all, and it seems like its such a shame to waste it.

I’ve been thinking about getting a food dehydrator recently, and seeing some of the recipes over at the Rawtarian has only been making it harder to resist. The way I figure, I could dehydrate some of this broccoli till I need it later, plus maybe I can throw some apples in there for a snack later or something. Seems like a pretty good deal, maybe I can convince Sugar Daddy to get me one for Valentines.

First Foray Into Delicious Pasta

Okay, I lied a bit, it’s not really my first time cooking pasta or anything, but it is my first time posting any of my meager culinary creations on this site! I’ve been cooking for myself ever since I was 21, but some days it still feels like I’m a beginner. I guess cooking is just one of those life lessons you never really finish learning.

Valentines Day is around the corner, and this is the first big holiday that I’ll be spending with Sugar Daddy as a married couple. How nice that it happens to also be one of the most romantic holidays. In preparation, I’ve been honing my skills to make something really nice for him. There’s nothing that says I appreciate him more than delicious home cooked meals, after all. I still haven’t decided what I’m going to cook on our special day yet, but I think by going through some of these experiments I’ll have a better idea of what to do. Without further ado, here’s what I whipped up this evening.

Chicken Pasta

As Rachel Ray says, “Yum-o!” Or she says something like that, I don’t know. Chicken in Basil Cream Sauce, Parmesan Pasta, and Broccoli Florets. The pasta ended up being a little too hard, but that’s an easy fix to make. The basil sauce turned out much better than I thought it would though. I was worried that the basil flavor would be too subtle, but it ended up being a perfect complement to the chicken. I think I’ll give it another try later, I’ve still got plenty of chicken to work with after all.

Feeling Inadequate and Turning 30

I remember when I turned 21. I had just dropped out of college for the second time. My parents said that this was going to be a milestone in my life. They said it was a year that would mean something important to me. I was now officially an adult, and I should act like it. I should think about my future. Of course, being the rebellious little girl, I was, ignored them, and set out to live my life a day at a time. I remember thinking that maybe life’s a little hard right now, but when I’m older, when I’m 30, all of the pieces will finally fit together. I’ll have my career established, my home nicely decorated, my children well behaved, and my marriage fantastic. Now that I’ve hit the next major milestone of being 30, I can at least attest that some of those are partially true.

The buildup to 30 was stressing me out. After 25, no one thinks you’re special anymore, just another face in the crowd. Depressing, but its true. You’re too old to be a child, but too young to be considered a well adjusted adult. I began to  journal more as I felt this ever increasing need to search deep within myself to figure out who I’m supposed to be. Even after all this soul searching though, I was more excited to see the cool gifts I would get on my big 3-0 birthday. You see, I’m a big fan of presents, but then again, who isn’t? I don’t care if its a pair of slippers, or a great new pair of shoes, I just love the mystery of a wrapped box.

What I did not expect about turning 30 was the way I would feel setting in the dermatologist office the day after my birthday. For all you young ladies out there, I do not recommend visiting a skin specialist anytime around your birthday. If you’re wanting to feel young and gorgeous, then that is not the place to be.

I made the appointment because I had a few moles that I was concerned with. That’s it. A few moles. As I sat patiently, half-naked, in the room I noticed all of the brochures for Botox, chemical peels, spider vein removal, and “lunch time wrinkle erasers”. Also, I didn’t realize what a skin check was exactly. Otherwise I would have worn matching bra and panties. And shaved.

The dermatologist came in and got straight to work. The two moles that he felt would need to be removed required stitches. Because one of them was on my left breast, I had to completely take my bra off and lay on the table.

He started to ask me questions about myself to distract from what was really going on as he cut and pulled on my chest. Without having anything in common with this man we were able to hold a reasonable conversation that dealt with two things 1) he seemed quite disgusted with the fact I never completed my college degree and 2) my husband’s career is much more interesting than mine so we just talked about my  husband.

I was already feeling inadequate.

So, I get it Mr. Skin Doctor. You are a well established dermatologist in a well established clinic. You deal a lot with woman who are here to perfect their bodies and skin. You look great for your age. Have a lot of money. And you can’t imagine not knowing what you were put on this earth to do (which is obviously sucking fat out of lumpy skin and removing nasty hairy moles).

Well, I dropped out of college and never looked back, moved with my family 10 times in 10 years, took several jobs just to help pay the bills, and now I’m still trying to settle into married life with my husband of 5 months. I don’t know what my life’s ambitions are, nor do I know what I’m particularly talented at. But I look damn good for being 30, and no one is going to take that away from me! Especially the day after I turn 30.

OCD and Christmas Lights

I’ve never been officially diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, but only because I refuse to pay someone to tell me what I already know. It’s always the little things that stand out. Someone’s shirt tag is popping out of their collar. One of the bathroom tiles isn’t facing the right way. Stuff that normal people would find peculiar, but not obnoxious are always the biggest points of contention for me. I have to fix them.

Sugar Daddy decided last Christmas that he wanted to put lights inside our apartment, since we would have family visiting. He asked me to be in charge of picking out the lights.

Obviously I agreed, since home decoration is kind of my thing, but this wasn’t going to be a “pick up some lights from the hardware store and get on with my life” sort of thing. No, this had to be perfect.

I had to plan it out, consider the color palette, how would it flow with the layout of our room with the furniture and shelves. After leaving the hardware store and not finding anything i was completely happy with, I came home to find help on the Internet. Not help with my OCD, help with the Christmas lights.

Six hours later, I was stressed and had a headache. Not only was I more confused than before, but I was beginning to think the whole Christmas lights thing was a joke. There are faceted lights, blinking lights, wave lights that slowly change colors, rope lights, icicle lights… and not to mention all of the colors!

Sugar Daddy came over and told me to just just told me to put up some damn lights, He picked blue and gold as our color scheme since I had such a hard time deciding. Even still, you’d be surprised how long it takes putting up Christmas lights when all of them have to be facing a certain direction. It’ll be okay, Sugar Daddy. the lights are up, and we can finally take some deep breaths.