Flattened Chicken Breasts with Piquant Basil Sauce

Oh my. Yet again I have disappeared from the bloggosphere. But I can for sure say that I am now back for good. How can I say this? Well, my semester ended and I earned another 4.0 GPA. And I no longer have to stress about last minute deadlines and PowerPoint presentations and reading philosophies. I actually even cooked tonight. And I'm not talking spaghetti. But I'll get to that in a minute.

First, let me point you in the direction of the lovely Susan over at Not Quite June Cleaver. I won her April Spring giveaway and she sent me the cutest apron ever!! My wonderful friend A is modeling it for me because unfortunately my physique trends more towards Julia Child's than Giada De Laurentis. But it's a beautiful apron and my friend A loves it tremendously and I have a wee bit of apron envy. I also received a neat vintage pie tin, a recipe booklet, and some very cool heirloom seeds. Thanks Susan!

The other neat thing Susan did was to post this delicious pie recipe. See the Brain's friend Mac just opened a pizza joint and bakery called The Pie Factory (which if you're ever in Sandusky you should check out because it's seriously delicious and won second place in the Sandusky Pizza Bake Off!) Anywho, Mac has a delicious raspberry cream pie. And I keep wanting to go buy it, even though I don't like pie typically. So I was telling Susan about it and she gave out a recipe that's similar. The crust on Mac's pie is a shortbread crust, but I like Susan's too. Her recipe is here.

Ok, so today has been all about 7th grade. Remember 7th grade? Awkward. Uncomfortable. Hormones running amok. Still a kid, but not really. Well, today one of the 7th graders I taught took his rifle (hunting is very big here and all the kids seem to have rifles) and stole the neighbor's truck and last it was on the news he's driven to Kentucky. This kid is a good kid. He had a little trouble focusing in class, but the other kids seemed to like him and he seemed to enjoy them too. Unfortunately they searched his locker and found his diary and there are 31 students and faculty that he "threatened" in this diary. Now the media is calling this a "hit list". I challenge you to look at any 13 year old kid's diary and not find scribbles about how they don't like people. I'm fairly certain that my entire diary in 7th grade was filled with ramblings about how much I loved Chris S. and Brian B. and multiple pages on how John M. was a big fat jerk. And Mrs. Juntenan was a horrible teacher. (I lost touch with Brian, Chris and John by 9th grade and I'll still tell you that Mrs. Juntenan was the very worst teacher I've ever had.) And besides the boy asked a family member to watch after his pet turtle. He's not the twitchy could-be-killer the media is making him out to be. So I'm worried about the kid and I'm starting to get annoyed at stupid hillbilly people making ignorant comments on the local newspaper website.

Then, my best friend T. is going through a divorce. Her hopefully soon to be ex husband is a real jerk and she's having a hard time. So by the time I got off the phone with her and had heard about the 7th grade boy, I needed to pound something. I chose chicken breasts. I was spending some serious time searching through my plethora of cookbooks and I wasn't finding anything good until I remembered this recipe my friend Scott made for me when we both worked at Victoria's Secret in Chicago. We had both picked up Celebrating the Midwestern Table by Abby Mandel on clearance at Borders and he invited me to his apartment for dinner. It was common back then for him and I to invite each other over for dinner. It was always good company and good food, and the best cheap wine we could afford. We were poor college kids after all.

So flattening these chicken breasts had dual purpose. I got my worry and frustration out and it took me back to the happy days of college in Chicago. And the chicken was exactly as good as I remembered it. Tomorrow will be a better day, it has to be, I still have one breast left over for lunch!

Flattened Chicken Breasts with Piquant Basil Sauce

adapted from Celebrating the Midwestern Table

4 boneless skinless chicken breast halves

2 tsp honey

2 Tbsp Dijon mustard

1/4 cup balsamic vinegar

6 Tbsp chicken broth

cooking spray

salt and pepper to taste

2 Tbsp julienned basil leaves

One at a time, place a chicken breast half between two pieces of plastic wrap and pound it to about 1/8 inch thinness. Repeat with the remaining breasts. Place on a plate and set aside.

Combine the honey, mustard, vinegar, and chicken broth in a small dish and set aside.

Spray a large nonstick skillet with cooking spray and sprinkle the chicken breasts with salt and pepper. Place the breasts seasoned side down in the hot skillet two at a time. Cook for 2 1/2 minutes. Sprinkle salt and pepper on the top (uncooked) side and gently flip over. Cook for 2 1/2 more minutes until done. Transfer the cooked breasts to a platter and tent with foil. Repeat with the remaining two breasts.

Once all the breasts are cooked and on the platter, add the honey mixture to the hot skillet. Cook for about 20 seconds until slightly thickened. Return the breasts to the skillet, spooning the sauce over them. As soon as they are warmed through, transfer them to a warm serving platter and garnish with the julienned basil. Serve hot.

Life in the Country

When I agreed to move to Nowhere, Ohio, I knew things would be different. I had lived in big cities (or the suburbs of big cities) all of my life. The smallest town I'd ever lived in was Ann Arbor, Michigan and that can hardly be called a small town. I have to admit, if I didn't love my husband and agree with his reasoning, I would have never ended up here. But let me tell you, small town life has some serious advantages.

For example, I have a garden here. This year I planted seven tomato plants and I now have probably 10 more "volunteer" tomato plants. I've rediscovered my love of beets and turnips as well as the simple joy of taking a plot of land and through a little work (very little on my part this year, but I have an amazing husband) be able to produce food. Like where there was dirt in the spring, there are now zucchinis and cabbages and onions and chili peppers. I'm also able to have fresh herbs any time I want them because I'm not restricted to growing them in pots on a window sill.

And then there's the county fair.

Growing up I thought that county fairs didn't really exist anymore. I mean they were the stuff of Judy Garland movies. Or Laura Ingalls Wilder books. Let me tell you people, county fairs not only exist, but they are a whole new world for out of place city girls like me. I love going to the fair. And not just because of the "fair food". In case you were wondering, batter dipped, deep fried cheese on a stick is a very bad idea that took me a week to digest. So what do I love about the fair if it's not the food?

It's the animals. There are cages and cages of chickens.

I love this one that looks like it's wearing a fancy hat. It reminds me of Cloris Leachman. She's hilarious! (And it's rumored she's going to be on Dancing With the Stars! Yippee!)

And prior to this year, I'd never touched a cow. Really people, when would I come close to a cow living in the Metro Detroit Area. Or Chicago? It's not like they take the El. So this beautiful bovine head was sticking out of the dairy barn and I walked right up to it and patted it's nose. I should also mention that after living in Kansas City and discovering that cows are roughly the size of Buicks that I'd been hesitant to come up to anything that big and that dumb. And I know they kick, but do cows ever bite? I have so many farm questions. Eventually we decided to go into the dairy barn and see all the enormous cows. I wish I'd taken a photo because that apparently wasn't a cow, but a bull for sale. Another myth shattered. In my head bulls are black. And have nose rings. And snort a lot. And are fairly dangerous. They're men for crying out loud. Think raging testosterone. I didn't think bulls had pretty eyelashes and look like something you want to pat and say "How Now Brown Cow!" to.

Which brings me, finally, to the main meat (hee hee) of this blog. So what was I cleaning out the freezer for? The Grand Champion Market Barrow Hog! Woot! Yep that's my hog. The one with the spots.

It's currently taking up 2/3 of our brand spanking new chest freezer. And we still don't have the feet, or the bacon, or the sausage links, or the 30 pound ham the Brain tells me we're getting. What the hell am I going to do with a 30 pound ham? Could I refreeze that? I supposed I could have some holiday meal here, except I don't think I could fit the number of people it would require to eat a 30 pound ham in our cozy little house. I wonder if I could bring it to a pot luck. Maybe I'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

But wait! There's more! Sometime this week, I think tomorrow actually, we're getting this here lamb. Yay! I will no longer have to travel to Michigan to get ground lamb! And all those delicious cuts of lamb that I hesitate to buy because they are so expensive will be sitting happily in my freezer. I have decided this must be the best way to buy lamb.

I'm not sure how exactly these county fair livestock auctions work, but it's something like this; some little kid's parents buy a baby livestock, then this little kid is in charge of feeding and taking care of the livestock. It's some program called 4-H which I think is like the farming version of scouting that also allows both boys and girls to participate. I'm fairly clueless on that one. So over the course of the year these kids take care of the livestock and help the livestock be the best it can be. The Brain had sheep and he told me you have to walk around with it on a leash enough times so that the sheep will follow you wherever you go. Then you have to be able to pose the sheep so it's showing off it's muscles the best. The Brain also had cows, but they ran away. (Cows on the lamb! How silly.) Eventually, the kids take these livestock to the fair and they get judged on how good the animals are.

Then they take these livestock to this auction. The auction is fun. They make the poor little kid stand in front of a fairly large group of people. Mostly a crowd of parents and local business owners. The parents have by this time sent out emails to all their acquaintances saying "buy our livestock! Little Joey has a goat in this year's auction!" And of course there's photos of little Joey with his goat. So people bid like crazy in this auction so little Joey feels good about raising his goat well. Meanwhile little Joey is standing up there looking like he's going to wet his pants. I really wish I had a photo of the auction. The little kids were hilarious. There are kids who are smiling ear to ear. There are kids who look like deer in headlights. There are some really scared kids. And then there are the older kids who try to stand there and look cool. Once a person, or more likely a business (if you win the grand champion, you get your photo in the paper and it's good advertising), wins the auction, that's apparently the premium price. Then the person or business has the option of buying the livestock at the predetermined market price or they can say no we don't want a freezer full of pig and they send it off to market. It's a really neat process. And why I don't need to buy meat for the rest of the year. Yahoo for small town living!

And the winners of my prize giveaway are Mrs. White and Amanda! Email me your addresses at marylonz at gmail.com.