There was a recipe circulating a couple of years ago that I'd forgotten about 'til last night. Faced with some defrosted chicken and not a lot of ingredients on hand, this recipe that originated with Weight Watchers fit the bill perfectly. It's called Diet Coke Chicken.
Stop! Wait! I was skeptical, too, but it's actually quite tasty. I "kicked it up a notch," as Emeril Legasse would say, by adding in some of Penzey's medium-hot chili powder. Give this pseudo-barbecued chicken a try for a quick meal. It was great with some rice-and-noodles and some broccoli steamed with a little garlic.
Salsa can be substituted for the ketchup; if you go that route, try using chili powder and cumin.
Diet Coke Chicken
1 pound skinless, boneless chicken breasts
1 cup diet Coke (I used caffeine-free)
1 cup ketchup
1-2 tablespoons chili powder
Put chicken in nonstick skillet. Combine Coke, ketchup, and chili powder, and add to skillet.
Cover and bring to a simmer. Cook chicken until done, about a half hour, turning as needed.
Remove chicken to a warm plate, and bring sauce to a boil, stirring often. Reduce until thick. Return chicken to skillet and coat with sauce.
Welcome to my kitchen!
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Friday, August 22, 2008
Been away
Sorry about the lack of new posts the past couple of weeks. I've been visiting family and friends in VA and MD. New recipes coming soon! Hope you're enjoying the last bit of summer before we're into September!
Friday, August 8, 2008
It wasn't ALL bad.
For those of you who read my previous entry, please know that we did have some great food while we were in Chicago.
As it happened, we were on a plane on the evening of my birthday. Needless to say, this did not exactly lend itself to going out to dinner, so we planned to celebrate on Saturday night instead. I did a little research over at Serious Eats, and printed out a thread that discussed good places to eat. (Sadly, the thread also contained Pizzeria Due. But I digress.)
After arriving at the hotel on Friday night I perused the six pages of posts, and narrowed it down to five or six possibilities. The final winner was Cafe Spiaggia. I called from the Navy Pier on Saturday afternoon. The hostess inquired as to whether we wanted the main dining room or the café. Not knowing the difference, my husband and I shrugged at each other, and I and booked us a table at the Café for 8:15. She asked if we were celebrating anything special, so I told her it was my birthday dinner.
We went on a fabulous architectural boat tour of Chicago at 6:00 (highly recommended), and then made our way to the restaurant. It's well hidden, in a big building at One Magnificent Mile, up on the second floor.
After we'd ordered our drinks (Chianti for the hubby, a limoncello martini for me), we perused the menu. EVERYTHING on the menu was looking fabulous, if a little pricier than we had anticipated for a place that had "Café" in the name.
We started by sharing the Polipo: wood roasted baby octopus with cipollini onions, potatoes and celery. My husband surprised me by suggesting this; when we have sushi, he's not much of a fan of octopus. It was just delicious. Tender, a little smoky, and tasting of the sea. The vegetables worked perfectly with it.
We each had an Insalata Italiana, which was mixed Italian greens with sweet onions, ricotta salata and Chianti vinaigrette. I don't know if I can convey in words how good this salad was. I think with every bite, I said "Oh, my goodness. This is WONDERFUL." The dressing was just exquisite, and the salad was dressed perfectly - flavorful but not dripping.
We both opted for a lighter meal, and each had just a pasta course instead of adding a main dish (Secondi) as well. My husband chose the gnocchi, which are a house specialty. The homemade potato gnocchi are served with with a wild boar ragu and Parmigiano Reggiano. I opted for ravioli, filled with Prosciutto di Parma and ricotta, with spring peas, pine nuts, and mint. I was a bit disappointed when the plate was placed in front of me, as I'd been expecting a larger portion (there were seven ravioli), but it was just enough food to leave me room for dessert. As with the salad, every bite was sheer perfection. It was easy to eat slowly and savor every bite.
Which brings me to dessert. Holy moley. (Longtime readers know about my legendary sweet tooth.) After agonizing over the list, I chose a dessert (wish I'd written down the details!) that was comprised of a shortbread-ish crust, a layer of homemade raspberry jam, a layer of lightly sweetened mascarpone , and studded with fresh raspberries and blackberries. I talked my husband into the chocolate panna cotta, accented with sea salt and almonds, going on the theory that we would be sharing and that the raspberries and chocolate would be a good combination.
The waitress brought out the panna cotta first, with a long, thin candle in it, apologizing that it wasn't my dessert, but that it was much easier to get the candle into my husband's dessert! I was also presented with a birthday gift of a $25 gift certificate for our next visit! I made my wish, and we dug in. If the rest of the dinner was sensational, the desserts were extraordinary. Words fail me farther than that. We also had the best cappuccino we'd ever had. Mine was decaf, and it was simply outstanding.
To sum up: If you are in Chicago, and your budget permits: GO TO CAFÉ SPIAGGIA. If the rest of the menu is as even half as delicious as what we ate, you can't go wrong.
As it happened, we were on a plane on the evening of my birthday. Needless to say, this did not exactly lend itself to going out to dinner, so we planned to celebrate on Saturday night instead. I did a little research over at Serious Eats, and printed out a thread that discussed good places to eat. (Sadly, the thread also contained Pizzeria Due. But I digress.)
After arriving at the hotel on Friday night I perused the six pages of posts, and narrowed it down to five or six possibilities. The final winner was Cafe Spiaggia. I called from the Navy Pier on Saturday afternoon. The hostess inquired as to whether we wanted the main dining room or the café. Not knowing the difference, my husband and I shrugged at each other, and I and booked us a table at the Café for 8:15. She asked if we were celebrating anything special, so I told her it was my birthday dinner.
We went on a fabulous architectural boat tour of Chicago at 6:00 (highly recommended), and then made our way to the restaurant. It's well hidden, in a big building at One Magnificent Mile, up on the second floor.
After we'd ordered our drinks (Chianti for the hubby, a limoncello martini for me), we perused the menu. EVERYTHING on the menu was looking fabulous, if a little pricier than we had anticipated for a place that had "Café" in the name.
We started by sharing the Polipo: wood roasted baby octopus with cipollini onions, potatoes and celery. My husband surprised me by suggesting this; when we have sushi, he's not much of a fan of octopus. It was just delicious. Tender, a little smoky, and tasting of the sea. The vegetables worked perfectly with it.
We each had an Insalata Italiana, which was mixed Italian greens with sweet onions, ricotta salata and Chianti vinaigrette. I don't know if I can convey in words how good this salad was. I think with every bite, I said "Oh, my goodness. This is WONDERFUL." The dressing was just exquisite, and the salad was dressed perfectly - flavorful but not dripping.
We both opted for a lighter meal, and each had just a pasta course instead of adding a main dish (Secondi) as well. My husband chose the gnocchi, which are a house specialty. The homemade potato gnocchi are served with with a wild boar ragu and Parmigiano Reggiano. I opted for ravioli, filled with Prosciutto di Parma and ricotta, with spring peas, pine nuts, and mint. I was a bit disappointed when the plate was placed in front of me, as I'd been expecting a larger portion (there were seven ravioli), but it was just enough food to leave me room for dessert. As with the salad, every bite was sheer perfection. It was easy to eat slowly and savor every bite.
Which brings me to dessert. Holy moley. (Longtime readers know about my legendary sweet tooth.) After agonizing over the list, I chose a dessert (wish I'd written down the details!) that was comprised of a shortbread-ish crust, a layer of homemade raspberry jam, a layer of lightly sweetened mascarpone , and studded with fresh raspberries and blackberries. I talked my husband into the chocolate panna cotta, accented with sea salt and almonds, going on the theory that we would be sharing and that the raspberries and chocolate would be a good combination.
The waitress brought out the panna cotta first, with a long, thin candle in it, apologizing that it wasn't my dessert, but that it was much easier to get the candle into my husband's dessert! I was also presented with a birthday gift of a $25 gift certificate for our next visit! I made my wish, and we dug in. If the rest of the dinner was sensational, the desserts were extraordinary. Words fail me farther than that. We also had the best cappuccino we'd ever had. Mine was decaf, and it was simply outstanding.
To sum up: If you are in Chicago, and your budget permits: GO TO CAFÉ SPIAGGIA. If the rest of the menu is as even half as delicious as what we ate, you can't go wrong.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Pizzeria Due Not - a Chicago PAN
I'm going to start with the "Where Not to Eat" of our trip to Chicago. Hold onto your hats.
Chicago is well-known for its deep-dish pan pizza, and I was greatly looking forward to sampling a pie. Having done a little online research, I confidently suggested to my husband that we head to Pizzeria Due.
You may be familiar with Pizzeria Uno. We were; they're all over the place around here. It's not difficult to find "Chicago-style" pizza here in Massachusetts, but we wanted the real deal, not a chain. Hence, our selection of Pizzeria Due, which is a mere block away from the (we believe) original Pizzeria Uno.
We were more than a little surprised that Due had almost the exact same logo as Uno. There were people waiting for a table, but we went in to put our names on the list. We were told that the pizza would take 45 minutes to cook, so she took our order when we put our names in. We ordered their signature pizza, an "Uno," with veggies, sausage, and pepperoni - when we put our names in for a table. Between the logo and the name of their signature pizza, I began to be more than a little suspicious about Due's origins.
We were seated outside about twenty minutes later, at one of the dozen or so tables set up on the street corner. The very first thing we noticed was that the edges of the sugar packets on our table were covered in tomato sauce. Lovely. The waitress came over to take our drink orders and gave us plates, napkins and cutlery. The plates we were given, I kid you not, were plastic and grungy looking. They were clean, but badly stained. As far as the napkins, well, they were cheapie paper napkins. No joke, they were the kind that you get in a big stack at the grocery store. They're fine for my kitchen table, but at a restaurant?
While waiting for our food, we read the blurb on the back of our menu, which solved the mystery of the logo and the specialty pizza: The guy who started out by opening Pizzeria Uno then followed up his success by opening Pizzeria Due.
Our Caesar salad was brought promptly. It was overdressed and had (Charles, you might want to skip to the next sentence) four of the mealiest wedges of tomato I've ever had the displeasure to eat. Come on. It's AUGUST. If there are good fresh tomatoes to be had in any month, it's August. *sigh* We had some entertainment during the salad course: we were treated to the rather vocal displeasure of the party next to us, two moms and their teenage daughters, whose spinoccoli pizza was brought to them COLD. They left shortly thereafter.
Our pizza was finally brought out, and it was completely and totally watery. We're not talking damp, we are talking a flood of near Biblical proportions on our pizza. If you're going to cover a pizza with veggies, the least you can do is sauté them a bit first. They obviously haven't figured this out, even though it's their "signature" pizza. It wasn't cold, but neither was it piping hot. The crust was horrible, flavorless and bland, just blah.
Meanwhile, as we were trying to eat our pizza, the waitstaff was haphazardly "cleaning" the table that had been vacated next to us. They cleared everything and gave it a cursory wipedown with a none-too-clean looking wet rag. While the guy was washing down the table, he knocked off the table the pizza pan that was holding the jars of oregano, pepper flakes, cheese, sugar packets, etc. The whole thing went face down onto the sidewalk, and the jars fell out. I quietly said to my husband, "Oh...no...please no...." But my worst fears came true: he simply picked up the pan, put the jars back into the pan, and put it back on the table. Though at that point it didn't really surprise me, it still absolutely horrified me.
After that, the table remained empty for several minutes, despite a growing line of waiting diners. Meanwhile, the friendly little sparrow that had been hanging around hoping for crumbs hopped right up onto the newly-washed table, drinking from the watery puddles that were left on the table, and looking for wayward crumbs.
I ate a single piece of pizza. My husband, normally a bottomless pit, ate only two. Needless to say, we skipped dessert. When they came to clear away the remains of our dinner, the guy saw the half uneaten pizza, asked if we wanted it boxed up, and when he said no, he asked if he could have it.
One thing that stood out to us in our hour or so at Due was that the manager and staff were constantly offering apologies for one thing or another - cold pizza, a delay for a table, etc., etc. None of the apologies seemed particularly heartfelt. My take? Skip the apologies, do some work with your staff, and bring the caliber of your food and service up to par.
We left, vowing to salvage our night. We did, but that's a story for another post.
Chicago is well-known for its deep-dish pan pizza, and I was greatly looking forward to sampling a pie. Having done a little online research, I confidently suggested to my husband that we head to Pizzeria Due.
You may be familiar with Pizzeria Uno. We were; they're all over the place around here. It's not difficult to find "Chicago-style" pizza here in Massachusetts, but we wanted the real deal, not a chain. Hence, our selection of Pizzeria Due, which is a mere block away from the (we believe) original Pizzeria Uno.
We were more than a little surprised that Due had almost the exact same logo as Uno. There were people waiting for a table, but we went in to put our names on the list. We were told that the pizza would take 45 minutes to cook, so she took our order when we put our names in. We ordered their signature pizza, an "Uno," with veggies, sausage, and pepperoni - when we put our names in for a table. Between the logo and the name of their signature pizza, I began to be more than a little suspicious about Due's origins.
We were seated outside about twenty minutes later, at one of the dozen or so tables set up on the street corner. The very first thing we noticed was that the edges of the sugar packets on our table were covered in tomato sauce. Lovely. The waitress came over to take our drink orders and gave us plates, napkins and cutlery. The plates we were given, I kid you not, were plastic and grungy looking. They were clean, but badly stained. As far as the napkins, well, they were cheapie paper napkins. No joke, they were the kind that you get in a big stack at the grocery store. They're fine for my kitchen table, but at a restaurant?
While waiting for our food, we read the blurb on the back of our menu, which solved the mystery of the logo and the specialty pizza: The guy who started out by opening Pizzeria Uno then followed up his success by opening Pizzeria Due.
Our Caesar salad was brought promptly. It was overdressed and had (Charles, you might want to skip to the next sentence) four of the mealiest wedges of tomato I've ever had the displeasure to eat. Come on. It's AUGUST. If there are good fresh tomatoes to be had in any month, it's August. *sigh* We had some entertainment during the salad course: we were treated to the rather vocal displeasure of the party next to us, two moms and their teenage daughters, whose spinoccoli pizza was brought to them COLD. They left shortly thereafter.
Our pizza was finally brought out, and it was completely and totally watery. We're not talking damp, we are talking a flood of near Biblical proportions on our pizza. If you're going to cover a pizza with veggies, the least you can do is sauté them a bit first. They obviously haven't figured this out, even though it's their "signature" pizza. It wasn't cold, but neither was it piping hot. The crust was horrible, flavorless and bland, just blah.
Meanwhile, as we were trying to eat our pizza, the waitstaff was haphazardly "cleaning" the table that had been vacated next to us. They cleared everything and gave it a cursory wipedown with a none-too-clean looking wet rag. While the guy was washing down the table, he knocked off the table the pizza pan that was holding the jars of oregano, pepper flakes, cheese, sugar packets, etc. The whole thing went face down onto the sidewalk, and the jars fell out. I quietly said to my husband, "Oh...no...please no...." But my worst fears came true: he simply picked up the pan, put the jars back into the pan, and put it back on the table. Though at that point it didn't really surprise me, it still absolutely horrified me.
After that, the table remained empty for several minutes, despite a growing line of waiting diners. Meanwhile, the friendly little sparrow that had been hanging around hoping for crumbs hopped right up onto the newly-washed table, drinking from the watery puddles that were left on the table, and looking for wayward crumbs.
I ate a single piece of pizza. My husband, normally a bottomless pit, ate only two. Needless to say, we skipped dessert. When they came to clear away the remains of our dinner, the guy saw the half uneaten pizza, asked if we wanted it boxed up, and when he said no, he asked if he could have it.
One thing that stood out to us in our hour or so at Due was that the manager and staff were constantly offering apologies for one thing or another - cold pizza, a delay for a table, etc., etc. None of the apologies seemed particularly heartfelt. My take? Skip the apologies, do some work with your staff, and bring the caliber of your food and service up to par.
We left, vowing to salvage our night. We did, but that's a story for another post.
Chicago
I spent the weekend in Chicago, the first time I'd been there. It's a great city. Though it's got more of a big-city vibe than Boston does, it's not quite New York, either.
I've got some longer reviews in the pipeline, but here are the short versions:
Do not eat at Pizzeria Due.
If you must eat at Pizzeria Due, follow it up with cocktails on the 96th floor of the Hancock Tower as the sun is setting. (Try not to look at the big, juicy spiders right outside the windows. Eeeurgh.)
Absolutely eat at Café Spiaggia. It's not inexpensive (though it's apparently less expensive than its sister restaurant, Spiaggia), but so worth it. Every bite was perfect.
I've got some longer reviews in the pipeline, but here are the short versions:
Do not eat at Pizzeria Due.
If you must eat at Pizzeria Due, follow it up with cocktails on the 96th floor of the Hancock Tower as the sun is setting. (Try not to look at the big, juicy spiders right outside the windows. Eeeurgh.)
Absolutely eat at Café Spiaggia. It's not inexpensive (though it's apparently less expensive than its sister restaurant, Spiaggia), but so worth it. Every bite was perfect.
Friday, August 1, 2008
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