TV Dinners: Kelsey Nixon's Chicken Cacciatore

Internet, I have a confession to make. I didn't want to like the squeaky-clean, annoyingly chipper blonde host of The Cooking Channel's "Kelsey's Essentials." She's too perky for my taste. And too sparkly. And too perfectly young. And all know-it-all about telling me the essentials of my kitchen.

But internet, I can admit when I'm wrong. Dead wrong. 

I set out to make Kelsey's Chicken Cattiatore, scoffing when I saw the episode in my DVR. What could blondey know about true Italian food?

I love me some cattiatore. It's good ol' simple Italian rustic goodness. I've literally consumed gallons of said goodness in my life, but I've never attempted to make it myself. Internet, I also confess that I lack patience. Anything worth simmering in a Dutch oven requires a lot of waiting, and a lot of patience. Somehow Kelsey's "essential" version claimed to take only 95 minutes. Silly, Kelsey. You can't rush such goodness! Braising takes time. Dutch oven goodness takes time. *This is where my husband would make a Dutch oven joke. I'm pretty sure the only reason he bought me one was so that he could make these jokes whenever I use it.* Getting simple rustic flavors to truly reach their full flavor potential means giving them the respect, and time, they deserve. I take this shit seriously. *That's where The Hubs would say "I take Dutch ovens seriously" and probably fart.* I started preparing myself for another lackluster TV Dinner, already grumbling about the lack of any real flavor from these TV recipes and apologizing to you in the blog I was writing in my head...

I gathered up the ingredients. Simple ones. With wine. Yes. I opened the wine immediately. So it could, you know, breathe. In my mouth.

I salted and peppered chicken thighs before dredging them in flour and browning. The online recipe doesn't tell you to, but you should always pat your chicken dry before doing this. Use paper towels and blot, blot, blot. Dry chicken = crispy golden crust. Trust this. The recipe also calls for a whole chicken. I was lazy and the thighs were on sale. Trust in improvisation, too.

I browned a few pieces at a time to avoid overcrowding. While you wait for your little chickens to get all goldy browny, you may start to look at the clock and think to yourself, "Huh. Hour and a half? Riiiiiiggght." Just me? Fair enough. But I was highly doubting this dinner would really only take 95 minutes to make. So I passed the time by letting some more wine breathe. In my mouth.

See? Perfectly golden brown. Power of the paper towel pat down.

I took the thighs out of the pot to rest and started adding all kinds of happiness in my beloved Le Creuset. Even though it does require so much of that patience I've confessed to not having, I really do love any excuse to use it. It's a good calming exercise for my mental state. And my mouth.

Internet, I have another confession to make. I wasn't exactly sure what cremini mushrooms were. At the market, I guessed and got the little white ones. When I got home I asked the mighty Google and discovered I was wrong. Oh well. I will also confess that I forgot to add them until the last second. Improvisation, folks.

 

I added the happy golden chickens back into the pot to simmer and set my timer for 40 minutes. When it went off, I glanced at the the clock. And then my picked my jaw up from the floor. GUYS. It ACTUALLY TOOK 95 MINUTES. Exactly. Whoa.

Also, it looked like this:

And tasted like this:

Source: crunchybetty.com via Andrea on Pinterest

You know, if that kind of heaven were a flavor. Damn. That would taste good. Like this cattiatore.

Kelsey Nixon just made me compare chicken to Ryan Gosling. It's that good, people.

As The Hubs stuffed his mouth, I told him "It's a TV Dinner ya know."

Hubs: Oh yeah? It fucking rules. *shoved more bread and sauce in his face*

Me: Yeah. You have Kelsey Nixon to thank for this.

Hubs: Well, I'd like throw her on this table and make a woman out of her to thank her for this.

Yup. It's that good.


Lady B’s Final Say So:

• Ease Factor: 5 out of 5 noms (And clean-up was wicked easy, too!)
• Taste Test: 5 out of 5 noms
• Truth in Advertising: 5 out of 5 noms
• The Hubs’  Vote: "Possibly 5. But I'm also a little drunk."
• Yeah, but is it pretty?: 4 out of 5 noms. Served with crusty bread, it's nothing fancy looking. But it's so pretty in your mouth.
• Overall: Kelsey, will you marry us?

TV Dinners: Rachael Ray's Fettuccine Primavera

Veggies, y'all. Veggies are super good for you. Good for your guts. Good for your taste buds. Good for when you're thinking that you should add more veggies and healthish stuff to your life. Since you're life's changing so much. Which isn't scary at all. Nope. No, siree. Not one bit terrifying or overwhelming. Like veggies. Not scary. Not scary at all.

So Rachael Ray, let's talk about veggies. Veggies in pasta. Let's talk about the yummy and healthy looking Fettuccine Primavera you whipped up on 30 Minute Meals. Let's chop and peel lots and lots of pretty produce to keep our minds off the nagging doubts and excited questions. Let's cook veggies. Healthy. Not scary.

Also, let's drink wine while we chop veggies. Not scary. Okay, a little scary so let's only sip the wine. Then let's thank Rachael for including wine in the recipe.

Veggies are pretty. Not scary. Not like change. Change is scary. Healthy carrots and zucchini are not scary. Peas are not scary. Easy peasey.

Boiling water. Natural. Familiar. Easy. Not scary. Add pasta. Calm and cool. Stir it around. Stone cold chillin'.

Add veggies to boiling water. Okay. Kinda weird. Just boil 'em? Boiled veggies. Huh. Still, not scary. Definitely not scary.

Saute up some EVOO (that's Rachaelese for extra virgin olive oil), butter, shallots, garlic, peas, wine, and stock. Not scary. Not like drastic career change and moving OVER THE HILL scary. Not like that. Nope.

 Mix it all together. Decide it's too boring and that's scary. Add grilled chicken.

Lessons learned? Veggies are not scary. Boring pasta is a little scary but easily remedied with leftover grilled chicken. Rachael Ray's Fettuccine Primavera really does only take an easy 30 minutes to make and is totally not scary. Facing giant life changes as 31 is lurking right 'round the corner is SUPER scary. Veggies, and wine, are good when things are scary.

Lady B’s Final Say So:

• Ease Factor: 5 out of 5 noms
• Taste Test: 3 out of 5 noms (would have been less without the chicken)
• Truth in Advertising: 4 out of 5 noms
• The Hubs’  Vote: 2 out of 5 noms ("But I'm giving one of those points cuz of the chicken. This is boring. Solid. But boring.")
• Yeah, but is it pretty?: 3.5 out of 5 noms
• Overall: Meh. It's easy and healthy. But almost scary boring.

TV Dinners: Giada's Redemption?

So you may have read about Giada de Laurentiis breaking my heart with her cruel and inhumane treatment of artichokes and gorgonzola. You may also know that being Italian and Mexican, I'm damn good at holding a grudge.

But it's a new year. One in which I'm trying to be more forgiving. I decided to see if Giada could redeem herself. Enter: Giada's Baked Rigatoni with Bechamel Sauce.

Now let me tell y'all a little somethin'-somethin' about bechamel sauce. I loves it. And even though it sounds all fancy pants and French culinary school complicated, it's actually not. We can thank Bobby Flay and his adorable wife for teaching me the beauty of adding cream and cheese together until it's simmered to thick happiness. Did you guys see that sickeningly sweet episode of Brunch at Bobby's where he brings his wife into the kitchen and they cook French brasserie food together? Did you also then yell at your husband because he never cooks with you like Bobby's spouse does? Did you also then try to bribe him into co-cooking time with your take on Bobby's Croque Madame (Monsieur in our house) cuz that's The Hub's FAVE and makes you both get all mushy, Paris-trip-reminiscing, romancey-smoochy-faced? And did your husband just laugh at you and refuse to enter the kitchen but then still get all reminscing-mushy-smoochy-faced when handed his cheese covered sandwich? No? Just me? Huh. Well, you should totally watch that episode anyway.

Annnnyway, Giada. And her version of Bechamel, which I saw on her "Italian Comfort Food" episode, making me really, really happy. Pasta baked with creamy cheesiness and prosciutto? Possible Giada redemption? Yes, please.

Right off the bat, I was a little wary when she called for Fontina cheese.

TV Dinners: Melissa d’Arabian’s Crispy Golden Sauteed Fish

I’m Lady B and I’m scared of fish.

Wholesome, frugal, and fish-friendly. All the things I'm not.

It’s true. I’m scared to catch it, scared to eat it, and beyond scared to COOK it. I partially blame my mother for this. It’s not what you think. She loves fish and cooks it like a pro.

BUT, when Mom directed a 4-year-old Lady B to SCRAPE A DEAD FISH OFF THE FIREPLACE HEARTH, she may have caused some long-lasting trauma. I now know that when she asked me to take a spatula to my dad’s poor fish that had somehow flopped out of his tank to his brick-y demise, she did so out of her own fear to do it herself. And she admitted years later that she was shocked I agreed to the morbid task. Nonetheless, I still can’t help but picture that poor little fish jerky stuck to the brick whenever I think of tackling gilled gourmet.

But it’s a new year. And while I didn’t make any real resolutions, I did make myself the following promises for 2012:

• Step outside of my comfort zone.
• Chart new territories.
• Cook and eat healthier.
• Moisturize regularly. (TMI, I know. But I am the WORST at putting on lotion everyday.)
• Shrug off the small stuff.
• Be more frugal with the cash-ola.

I’m pretty sure this recipe from Melissa d’Arabian’s show Ten Dollar Dinners tackles all of those promises I made. Well, except for the moisturizing.

I like multi-tasking.

The super awesome part of this recipe? I had everything I needed, except the fish, in my kitchen already, making the total cost of this dinner a whopping $6. (I could have made Melissa’s entire dinner, which paired the fish withBulgur-Stuffed Summer Vegetables and Watermelon with Ginger-Mint Simple Syrup. But since I already had jasmine rice and herb-butter asparagus from Fresh & Easy, I decided to to just go with it.)

Have I told you guys about the love affair I'm having with Fresh & Easy? I'm kinda obsessed.

Melissa, I think we’re gonna be friends. Your recipe is CAH-RAZY easy! And cheap (earning some serious kudos from The Hubs)!

Ready for how easy this is, interwebs?

• Pat fish dry. Try not to squeal in disgust. Then be pleasantly surprised when you realize that talapia is neither slimy, stinky, or still wriggling around. No? Just me. Mmkay.
• Salt and pepper both sides.
• Dredge in flour. Tap off excess.
• Pat dry again. (Double-patting gives you a perfectly golden crunch-tastic crust. Thanks for the tip, MD!)
• Fry three minutes on one side in veggie oil over medium heat.

Fry fishes, fry!

• Flip (Melissa gave a great piece of advice: Use a firm hand with your spatula to make sure you get all the crusty goodness in one move. So right.)
• Once flipped, put pats of butter on top of fish. (Yes!)
• Cook another couple minutes and remove fish.
• Add lemon juice to pan (Melissa specifically said to be careful of splatters. She was NOT kidding. Let’s not talk about the gnarly hot oil burn I have on my right hand now, k?) and scrape up all the little brown bits while deglazing the pan.

Lemons are pretty. And will burn the holy shiz outta you when added to frying oil. Imagine that.

• Throw in the chopped parsley, and drizzle the lemony buttery happiness on top of fish.

Close up buttery fried goodness.

That’s it! So easy! So inexpensive! So not fish-stinky at all!

And you guys? I totally ate it. Willingly. Happily.

 

I know it doesn’t make any damn sense at all, but I now feel like I have finally avenged dad’s fish’s untimely death and shoddy burial. (We maybe just threw dad’s prized pet in the trash. He was none too happy.)
Rest in peace, little fish! I now have the courage to cook and eat your friends.

Wait. Is that really avenging? I dunno. But let’s go with it.


Lady B’s Final Say So:

• Ease Factor: 5 out of 5 noms (once I got over touching fish)
• Taste Test: 5 out of 5 noms
• Truth in Advertising: 5 out of 5 noms
• The Hubs’  Vote: 4 out of 5 noms ( he originally gave it a 3.5. Then I told him how cheap it was.)
• Yeah, but is it pretty?: 4 out of 5 noms
• Overall: She got me to LIKE FISH! Bravo, Melissa. Bravo.

{originally published on 1/9/12 here} 

TV Dinners: Giada De Laurentiis’ Baked Artichokes with Gorgonzola and Herbs

Interwebs, I have a secret. I have a girl-crush on Giada De Laurentiis.

She’s Italian, sexy, stylish, AND she makes cooking look crazy easy. And even though she shows off her perfect Italian pronunciation like an overzealous anchorwoman, she manages to be adorable while doing so. I think The Hubs is hiding his annoyance with how much space Everyday Italian and Giada at Home are taking up on the TiVo. I can’t help it. I heart her.

So when my mom said she was making me Giada’s Baked Artichokes with Gorgonzola and Herbs, I all but squealed with glee. I loooooove artichokes. I love Giada. I love gorgonzola. Yup. Mom rocks.

Mom and I are artichoke snobs and we take them ever so seriously. Right off the bat, we were confused when Giada directed us BOIL them. Boil? Seriously? Not steam? We were baffled and I started to question my crush. But we pressed on.

Moving on to the cheese filling. Mmmmmm. Cheese. Ten ounces seemed like a LOT for such a strong cheese as Gorgonzola but loving the dairy delight, we shrugged it off and blended it all with parsley, garlic, salt and pepper. Shaking our heads, we pulled the ‘chokes out of the boiling water and filled them with the cheese mix, topped with a combo of bread crumbs and parsley, drizzled with olive oil and baked them for the 25 minutes per the recipe.

Timer dinged! Tummies growled! Oven opened ~ frowny faces. No crisp golden crumb topping as Giada had told us. Instead, a puddle of oily cheese gloop in some sad lookin’ artichokes.

We set the timer for ten more minutes.

Nada. Another ten.

Nope. Another five.

Oily pool with some brown crumbs floating on top. We finally took them out and gave them a whirl.
WTH, Giada?!?!? Why do you hate me?

Sadly, ours looked nothing like The Food Network's pic.

They were awful. I guess the one saving grace was the Gorgonzola’s crazy overpowering of the artichokes shoe-leather like texture. We tried to power through, we really did. But after only a few bites, Mom and I were defeated by the rubbery leaves and greasy cheese. We never even got to our beloved hearts.

Giada, I loved you. I wanted us to be besties. I envisioned quaint backyard BBQs, sunset cocktails and girlish giggles over kitchen mishap story swapping. But noooooooo. You not only threw our love away, you made my mother violate defenseless artichokes and innocent Gorgonzola!

Sigh. Giaga, I beg of you. Never make people treat such perfect ingredients so cruelly again. I hope I can forgive you, but the artichokes and I will never forget.

See? She's mean to tomatoes, too!

Lady B’s Final Say So:

• Ease Factor: 4 out of 5 noms
• Taste Test: 0 out of 5 noms
• Truth in Advertising: 1 out of 5 noms
• The Hubs’  (well in this case, Mom’s) Vote: 1 out of 5 noms
• Yeah, but is it pretty?: 0 out of 5 noms
• Overall: Shame on you, Giada!

*Okay, I know my mom technically made this one. But as a witness to preparation and active participant in consumption, I’m using it, dammit.*


{originally posted on 1/3/12 here}

TV Dinners: Claire Robinson’s 5 Ingredient Butternut Squash Soup

Each week(-ish), I’ll attempt to recreate a recipe from a hit cooking show and share my (brutally) honest opinions on the Cooking Channel and Food Network’s finest.

First up at bat in the TV Dinner review gauntlet: Claire Robinson’s Butternut Squash Soup.

Internet, can I just tell you how much I looooove the show 5 Ingredient Fix? It’s freaking awesome. Claire’s sassy, kinda brash, and adorably southern. And she doesn’t like shopping for a ton of pricey ingredients either. Yeah, we’d totally be besties in real life. Now if know me personally, you know how much I *detest* soup. Yes, soup. It’s very existence angers me. Either drink your drink or eat your food, people! What is this in-the-middle broth business? Completely useless in my opinion.

But I’m getting older. And I’ve been surprised by my constantly maturing palette. (Um, hello. I now eat guacamole, asparagus, clams casino, and grilled onions. With gusto. Bizarre, I know.) So I figured I’d give this soup business another go ’round, even though I assumed a soup made out of squash would just taste like glorified baby food.  But, guys? I was so deliciously wrong.

 

As the show’s title obviously states, this recipe only calls for five ingredients; a 3 lb. butternut squash, chicken stock, olive oil, shallots, and curry powder. (Yes, I know the pic shows an onion, garlic, and veggie stock. So maybe I improvised a bit. I didn’t feel like taking off my jammies and going to the store.) Though the soup takes over an hour and a half to finish, the steps are all actually pretty easy. Except the first one. This Claire chick makes splitting a 3 lb. butternut squash in half seem easy. It’s not. You’ve been warned.

Once the bad boy was hacked in half,  I scooped out the seeds (and wondered if there was any cool use for them. Any ideas? Anyone? Bueller?) . I drizzled some olive oil over the cut edges and generously sprinkled with salt and pepper (I know. That’s technically two more ingredients, for a grand total of seven. But Claire says those are free ingredients. I like free.)

Then I flipped those babies over on to a baking sheet, and popped them in the oven at 375 for about an hour, until they were soft with roasted goodness. Meanwhile, the smell that wafted through my house? AMAZE-BALLS. Seriously. Smelled like heaven and kitten cuddles.

Once they were cool enough to handle, I spooned the guts out into a bowl.I probably should have waited a bit longer to do this. The process was a lot of me burning my fingertips and dropping chunks of squash flesh while muttering under my breath “Oooh…aaah! Achi-mama that’s a hot! Oh Oh Oh got it, yowza! Okay. Ow!” Really. Let it cool first.

I grabbed the new love of my life (sorry, Hubs) and sauteed the chopped shallots (okay, FINE! Onions and garlic!)  in some olive oil till softened, and added the squash guts, chicken stock and curry powder. I brought it to a boil, covered, lowered the heat, and let the squash break down for about 10 minutes. Then I just threw all that pretty orange chunkiness into a blender and pulsed till it was pureed to my liking. (Which was probably a little on the chunkier side but I was really having to fight my hatred of soup. Squash chunks made me feel like a rebel against the Soup Establishment.) I added a little salt and pepper, stirred one last time, and ladled into bowls for The Hubs and I, fully prepared to further cement my fear and loathing of soup.

Holy crap, y’all. It’s amazing. I wanted to hate it. I really, truly did. But I don’t. I don’t at all. I love it so, so much. I dream of it. I want to dip everything in it. Paired with an artichoke? Yes. Bruscetta? Uh-huh. Grilled cheese? You betcha. My fingers? No shame at all.

 

Damn, you guys. It’s just stupid good.

Curse you, Claire Robinson, for making it so easy to prepare this nutritious soup I hate that I love!


Lady B’s Final Say So:

• Ease Factor: 4 out of 5 noms
• Taste Test: 5 out of 5 noms
• Truth in Advertising: 5 out of 5 noms
• The Hubs’ Vote: 5 out of 5 noms (and 3 helpings)
• Yeah, but is it pretty?: 4 out of 5 noms
• Overall: OM NOM NOM NOM NOM!

{originally posted 12/12/11 here}