Crazy Leftover Chicken

Some nights the meal planning totally falls through. It looks good on the calendar, and then somehow the day that I've planned to make something that requires abnormal ingredients AND a significant time to prepare, is the same day that dear cooking spouse has a late meeting and it's the day I take the kids to (fill in the blank...)

Last Thursday was set to be Japanese night! Smith is all gung-ho-y about cooking more Japanese dishes so I agreed. And put it on the calendar. And so it was this day at 5:30 that we call each other to spout out "I'm only now on my way home, have you started dinner?"

So no. We didn't have the transcendent Japanese dishes we hoped to. Instead. I opened the fridge and sighed. And here is what I made:


Crazy Leftovers Chicken Dish with Rice
1/2 onion cooked up with some butter
1 bottle of beer (leftover from a party)
1/2 cup tomato soup (leftover from some trip to Central Market)
3 cups vegetable soup (leftover from last night which was made with, you guessed it, leftovers.)
Rosemary.

Get all that bubbling and boiling hot. Toss in the chicken thighs that were supposed to go in the Japanese dish and then cover. Roll the chicken over periodically. Bubble and boil until all that liquid is reduced/thickish and the chicken is done. Enjoy with rice.


I can't even tell you how fabulous this was. And sad, because it felt like a dish that I would never be able to re-create as fabulously again. Because, ya'll should know that my measurements above are rough. loosey-goosey. seat of my pants-ish. a bit like the quiche I made earlier this week: the pre-baking crust mishap that had one half of the crust in a sad dusty pile on the floor and the other half securely baked to the pan... I made the quiche anyway, figuring the kids would go for the non-crusted side since it made it more like scrambled eggs and less like the egg pie that it was. It too was good, but proof that my cooking is not for the recipe following purist. That's my dad in me.

My mother's garden

Today my parents (and their beloved pets) drove off to return to Houston. It is very quiet now. They took refuge from Ike up here as their town near Galveston usually floods at the drop of a rainfall-filled hat. They came worried about all that was left behind - including my brother and sister-in-law who opted to stay it out. But Bailey the dog (geez. now I have to vacuum - that dog is a virtual hoover with crumbs!), Hidey the cat (who fulfilled her name and hid in the garage), and the brand new unnamed canary (Piper? Curly? Moe? what a singer! what a weird hairdo!) added to our family menagerie.

It was a relief to have them here. At the very least - they were here! THEY were safe. It was hard to watch the storm unfurl at TV's length and not wonder and worry.

With great sighs of relief, news from friends and my brother came in - my parent's house was intact, our friends were okay. The hated hackberry tree in the back took down the fence, blocked the road and was also in the pool. These were expected. But there is a lot of work to do cleaning up and clearing out. It will still be pretty sad. My mother's garden is a place of quiet delight. Little clumps of flowers, even some "wildings" (you and I know them as weeds) are enjoyed. She works so hard at it, loving it. It is different every time I come to visit. Will it ever look like this again?