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The green curry chicken dish came out really well, including the clumsy but ultimately successful dissection of the chicken into component parts to bubble away in the coconut milk. And the second chicken (what I had taken as a giant chicken turned out to be two more normal-sized ones, tucked side by side...clearly I should have been counting legs) has just been roasted last night and will be turned into sandwiches. And I made another batch of the veggie bacon pasta, which has turned into an old reliable dish. And in-between somewhere there, there was a batch of chocolate chip cookies.
One of my weird psychological quirks is a deep love in preparing food, and then a lot of indifference about whether or not I actually eat any of it (or go have a peanut butter sandwich later). Strangely, my sister shares this quirk, which crops up every once in a while unpredictably. (Certain dishes never trigger it, and the longer a dish is in my rotation the more apt I am to share a bowl of whatever it is on the spot). Neither of us can pinpoint any reason for this weird reason, unless my thesis research on nurture, the woman's role in feeding, and fasting as it relates to female mystic saints still carries over to modern times. Which, I suppose, it may, but I'm damned if I can see how.
So this is all a roundabout way to say that the green curry chicken was great, but I'll probably eat more of it next time when I've had more time to work out my relationship to it, but I've already eaten a bunch of the plain roast chicken because I make those all the darn time.
One of my weird psychological quirks is a deep love in preparing food, and then a lot of indifference about whether or not I actually eat any of it (or go have a peanut butter sandwich later). Strangely, my sister shares this quirk, which crops up every once in a while unpredictably. (Certain dishes never trigger it, and the longer a dish is in my rotation the more apt I am to share a bowl of whatever it is on the spot). Neither of us can pinpoint any reason for this weird reason, unless my thesis research on nurture, the woman's role in feeding, and fasting as it relates to female mystic saints still carries over to modern times. Which, I suppose, it may, but I'm damned if I can see how.
So this is all a roundabout way to say that the green curry chicken was great, but I'll probably eat more of it next time when I've had more time to work out my relationship to it, but I've already eaten a bunch of the plain roast chicken because I make those all the darn time.
