Category Archives: Meat Dishes

It’s the Small Things

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Less than a week after posting a blog entry in which I emphatically declared that Bill and I loathe shopping, I feel forced to admit to you that yesterday Bill and I went shopping. At IKEA.

You know IKEA. The store that sells everything, but everything it sells is a bit smaller than at other stores and has an unusual Swedish name. Take the wok I bought today. It seems to me that woks (or any other utensils or appliances used for cooking) should not be named Skanka. Even if it has two circles over the “a” which I’m unable to duplicate on this non-Swedish keyboard. But I digress….

We actually both love to wander around IKEA. Inevitably Bill will find something he absolutely MUST HAVE for his office, which he will then use exactly once. Similarly, I will find something for the kitchen that is beyond me to understand how I’ve gone nearly 60 years without owning that I will then use exactly once.

Here is a list of what we purchased today:

6 pant hangers
1 extra-long shoe horn
4 storage boxes
2 doors for a storage cube Bill already owns
2 drawers for that same storage cube
1 smaller-than-normal wok
1 abnormally small sauce pan

As sort of a side note, I remember when my mother started buying things in small sizes. She would buy, for example, dish soap in a container that held something like 8 ounces. I don’t know where she even found items that small. I recall that about the time she was buying things in tiny sizes, I was cooking for a family and couldn’t imagine why she would buy something that small. Now, 35 years later, she would be pleased to see just how happy I am today to have found my smaller-than-normal wok and abnormally small sauce pan. When you’re cooking and cleaning for two, you look at life a bit differently. Cheers, Mom.

But back to IKEA. I think one of the things I like most about the store is the shopping carts. You know the ones in which all of the wheels can turn 360 degrees so that you can go down the aisle sideways. Not that I would ever do that.

So, I’m off to make my smaller-than-normal stir-fry in my smaller-than-normal wok. Here is the recipe:

Beef and Broccoli

Ingredients
1 T. vegetable oil
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 t. ginger, minced
½ c. green onion
2 c. broccoli florets
12 oz. skirt steak, sliced
½ t. sesame oil
2 t. soy sauce
2 t. cornstarch
Juice of 1 lime

Process
Heat oil in a wok or skillet, and then add beef. Stir-fry for 5-7 minutes, until brown. Remove beef and set aside. Add garlic and ginger to pan and cook for 2-3 min. Add green onion, broccoli, sesame oil, and soy sauce. Cook 6-8 min. until broccoli softens and is bright green. (You can add a little water if necessary) Add meat back to the wok and cook until meat is again heated through.

Mix cornstarch with ½ c. water and add to pan. Bring to a boil. Add lime juice. Serve over rice.

Nana’s Note: The stir fry didn’t have as much flavor as I would have hoped. It needs a lot more soy sauce, and something else; maybe a little sherry. I’m open to suggestions.

One more little side note/follow-up. Remember a couple of weeks ago when I bought my sweet little third-born granddaughter a pair of pink mittens and pink ski socks to make up for the fact that she was having to wear her brother’s hand-me-down ski coat? Well, today I got this in the mail. So sweet. I particularly like the illustrations of the mittens and socks. It’s a remarkable resemblance.

Lighten Up, Girlfriend

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When I commiserated recently with my sister that I was having trouble maintaining my Weight Watchers fighting weight, she pointed out that the majority of my blog recipes as of late have involved a great deal of butter. Humpf. She thinks she knows everything! Granted, I did have to start buying my butter at Costco, and I’m only cooking for my husband and me. But, really….

Anyway, in deference to you-know-who (and also to perhaps be kinder to my heart and ratchet down my cholesterol count), this week I am going to feature tasty, yet healthy, recipes.

I’m not great at cooking healthy. I’m much more like Paula Deen than Ellie Krieger (though I can safely say under oath that I have never used the “N” word to describe a person. Well, except when it used to be part of the “eenie, meenie, miney, moe” thing when I was a child. Wow. That’s weird to think about. You Baby Boomers know what I’m talking about.)

Anyhoo, back to cooking healthy. It’s just never really been my thang, doncha know. I love the taste of butter. I have always preferred chicken thighs over chicken breasts. Nothing tastes better to me than a really nicely marbled (read, FAT) rib-eyed steak. I know the BEEF: IT’S WHAT’S FOR DINNER people tell me a sirloin steak has the best flavor, but seriously?

But I have come to realize that healthy cooking doesn’t have to be flavorless, or even calorie-less. Weight Watchers has taught me that it’s about the combination of calories and fiber, protein and carbs in the right way. And furthermore, it really is about portion control instead of deprivation. So, unlike the olden days, pasta isn’t a no-go. And really, pan frying isn’t a no-go either. Just use a little oil instead of butter, or at least combine the two.

Some of the recipes I will feature for the next few days are recipes I have tried, and some are recipes that look good to me. We will see how it goes.

This is a recipe I plan to make tonight.

Greek Chicken Cutlets (from Martha Stewart, perhaps from prior to incarceration).

The recipe feeds four.

Ingredients
1-1/2 lb. thin chicken cutlets (about 8)
1 pint grape tomatoes
½ c. fresh mint
1/3 c. Kalamata olives, pitted
Salt and pepper
2 T. olive oil
4 oz. feta cheese

Process
In a medium bowl, combine tomatoes, olives, feta, mint, and 1 T. olive oil. Season with salt and pepper. Set aside.

Heat a grill pan or outdoor grill. Season cutlets with salt and pepper. Grill, working in batches, until chicken is cooked through, 1 to 2 minutes per side. Transfer to a plate, and cover with aluminum foil to keep warm. Top chicken with tomato mixture and serve.

Nana’s Notes: Instead of grilling the cutlets, you can use a large skillet over high heat, adding 1 T. olive oil per batch. Also, I will use basil instead of mint because I prefer the flavor and it might annoy Martha Stewart should she stumble on this blog. That’s a good thing. By the way, the image is courtesy of Martha Stewart’s website. I really shouldn’t be so mean to her.

Shop ’til You Drop

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Neither my husband nor I like to shop.

Oh, it’s true that on occasion, I have headed purposely into a kitchen store with no purchase in mind, just wanting to see what kind of kitchen gadget I can’t live without. And certainly it’s not unusual for me to head into a book store and look at what’s new in paperback, not intending to purchase. (In fact, I’m sure book store owners must cringe when they see me pull out the little tablet I keep in my purse to write down names of books that I will then either order on line for my Nook or get from the library.)

But the notion of heading to a mall or shopping area to simply wander around for an afternoon is simply beyond my comprehension. And as for shopping the day-after-Christmas sales? Ha! If I bought my Christmas gift wrap or any presents the day after Christmas, by the same time next year I undoubtedly would have either a) forgotten where I put them, or b) forgotten that I bought them in the first place. Sigh.

And my husband is even worse. We shop when we need something.

And we needed a mattress. Or, at least wanted to buy a new mattress to replace the inexpensive one we had hastily bought when we purchased our desert home back in 2010. So Bill did a bit of internet research and found a couple of mattress stores not too far from our house, and we headed off.

We walked into a store called Mattress Outlet. It was quite large, filled with mattress upon mattress, and absolutely devoid of any humans save for one lone salesperson, a 30-something man. He was understandably very glad to see us. “Hello, my name is Rex. Are you in the market for a mattress?” he greeted us.

Let’s take a station break and talk about the name Rex. I like that name. I’m probably partial to the name because Bill’s dad’s name was Rex. But the name means “king” and I think it’s a strong, masculine-sounding name, and it simply appeals to me. But perhaps because I have two nieces who are pregnant, I have been paying more attention to names lately, and I am having a hard time imagining calling a little tiny baby boy Rex. Maybe I’m just used to names like Jason or Justin. Anyway, I took an immediate liking to Rex because he was named Rex.

So, we told Rex what we were looking for – a queen-sized mattress, medium-firm, preferably pillow-topped. He led us to the section of the store where the queen mattresses lived, gave us about a 2-minute talk on the differences in the mattresses, suggested we lie on them to see if we found any of them comfortable. (I must admit, however, that it is quite difficult to determine the comfort of a mattress when it is covered in plastic, but hey, I get why it’s covered in plastic.)

We did so, and left the store shortly thereafter having purchased a mattress and arranged for its delivery that evening. The entire transaction, from the time we walked into the store until we shook Rex’s hand as we left took somewhere around sixteen minutes. I am amused by that. I am sure there are agonizingly careful shoppers who would have gone to four or five stores to check prices, gotten brochures on all of the beds, asked Rex all sorts of questions about how the beds were made and where the beds come from. We, on the other hand, walk into the first store on our list, lie on two different beds, choose one with very little discussion, make the deal and head over to Five Guys for lunch.

Hope we have many good nights of sleep on our new mattress.

Last night I made a delicious meal I pinned from Pinterest. It has no name. It was a winner.

Nameless Shrimp

Melt a stick of butter in a pan. Slice one lemon and layer it on top of the butter. Put down fresh raw shrimp, then sprinkle one pack of dried Italian salad dressing. Put in the oven and bake at 350 for 15 min.

My notes: I used unpeeled large shrimp. The size was good, but I think next time I would peel the shrimp first. They were really messy to peel, what with being covered in that delicious butter and all. I served it with oven-roasted asparagus and crusty French bread which we then dipped in the buttery goodness. It was really good, and soooo quick and easy.

An Arizona Bash

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Last Friday Bill and I climbed into our car and began making our way to our desert house.

A couple of years ago, my sister suggested to us that we consider purchasing a second home with her in Arizona. It made sense. Nearly all of our extended families are here. And we all dislike the cold and snow more and more as we get older. We took the plunge and haven’t looked back. Bill and I spend Christmas to Mother’s Day here, and Jen, who is still working, comes as often as possible. We find we are very good house mates.

We all arrived here on Saturday, and hit the ground running, hosting a huge family party at our house (which we have dubbed Bungalow Bill’s) in honor of my sister’s grandson’s 3rd birthday. We had nearly the entire Arizona gang here, except my older sister who is traveling in Europe, her son who is sick with a cold, and his 7-year-old daughter who was at a sleepover. I have spoken before about my wonderful family, all of whom are enthusiastic, loving, funny, and full of life. Our parties are always lively and there is always a plethora of food. My sister Jennifer was the primary chef this time, and her offerings centered around delicious cheese-stuffed meatballs with rigatoni.

She busily cooked, all the while dodging the kids – cousins ranging in age from 7 months to 7 years and two more on the way – and enjoying the background noise of laughter, squealing kids, and football. We munched on chips and guac and a delicious salami appetizer Jen had gotten from an episode of Barefoot Contessa.

There is hardly anything in the world I love more than getting together with family. All that’s left of this gathering are deflating balloons and a left-behind pacifier! Signs of a good party.

Gatherings of loved ones, no matter how big or how small, remind us that we are not solitary creatures, and that all of those little problems we think are insurmountable really aren’t as long as you have friends and family who love you.

Jen’s meatballs came from a recipe she got from Mix and Match Mama’s blog. Here it is:

Provolone Stuffed Meatballs

Ingredients
1 lb. ground beef
1/2 onion, grated
4 cloves garlic, grated
1 c. panko breadcrumbs
1/2 c. Parmesan cheese, grated
2 eggs, beaten
2 splashes milk
1 t. crushed red pepper
4-6 oz. Provolone cheese
Salt and pepper
Extra Virgin Olive Oil

Process
Preheat oven to 425 degrees.

In a medium bowl, combine ground beef, onion, garlic, bread crumbs, Parmesan cheese, eggs, milk, crushed red pepper and salt and pepper. As you roll a meatball, take a piece of your provolone and stick it in the center, rolling the meat mixture all the way around it and then place on a foil-lined, lightly greased baking pan. Drizzle about a tablespoon of olive oil over all of the meatballs. Roast in the oven about 20 minutes, or until brown.

Serve over spaghetti or have them as individual appetizers.

Third Born

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I’m a middle child. There are four of us in our family –three sisters and, finally, to our dad’s great relief, a son. I am second born.

There are numerous studies that indicate that birth order impacts each child uniquely. First-born children, for example, are ambitious and feel responsible for solving all of the problems in the family (maybe even the world?). Second-borns want to please everyone. Third-borns, well, they just fight for what they get, and mostly they get what’s left.

Our middle son has four kids, ages 10, 8, 7, and 5 – girl, boy, girl, girl. Because of the sheer number of kids, and because our son and daughter-in-law are determined that their children appreciate all that they have, there are lots of hand-me-downs. It’s just inevitable, especially with all those girls. This photo, by the way, is missing the youngest who was likely in the warming hut with Mom.

Recently the kids tried on their ski clothing and equipment to see what fit, what didn’t, and what needed to be bought. As it turns out, the littlest one hadn’t grown a bit (she’s a wee bit of a thing), but the others were all in need of at least some sort of new clothing and/or equipment. But, unfortunately for the third-born, her brother’s old clothes and equipment fit her perfectly. Her mom told me that little Miss Third-Born wept real tears when she learned that she was going to have to wear her brother’s old clothes and equipment on the slopes this winter. Boy’s clothes. With her brother and older sister sporting shiny new duds. Argh. The unfairness of being a third-born.

Of course, when Mom told Nana, I wanted to weep real tears as well. Instead, I headed to the sporting goods store to buy Dagny some bright pink ski mittens. A girl has to have some pride.

Now I know absolutely nothing about ski duds, not being a skier myself. I was studying my choices when a nice young man came over and asked if I needed help. I proceeded to begin to tell him the story of these four grandkids and their ski clothes and how my poor little 7-year-old was getting the short end of the stick because she was going to have to wear her brother’s clothes and yada, yada, yada. I suspect I went into a bit too much detail because, though I have heard the phrase used before, this time I literally saw this young man’s eyes glaze over. He couldn’t possibly have cared less that my granddaughter had to wear her brother’s clothes, except for the fact that it might mean he could sell me a new pair of ski mittens. It made me laugh at myself.

Dagny got her pink mittens, and some socks to boot.

Today’s fall dinner offering:

Coq Au Vin

Ingredients
4 slices of bacon
1 whole chicken, cut into pieces
Salt and pepper to taste
1 medium onion, diced
1 carrot, diced
5 cloves garlic, minced
2 T. butter
1 lb. mushrooms, sliced
2 c. red wine

Process
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Fry the bacon in a large skillet until crisp. Remove from the pan, crumble it, and let it drain.

Season the chicken with salt and pepper, then place the chicken pieces fat side down into the skillet and cook in the bacon grease until brown. Turn over and cook the other side. Remove from pan and set aside in a baking dish, skin side up.

Sauté the onion, carrots and garlic in the skillet with the bacon grease until onions are translucent and garlic is fragrant, about 3 minutes. Remove from pan and add to the baking dish with the chicken. Add 2 T. butter to the skillet and cook the mushrooms until golden. Add to the baking dish with the chicken and the onion/carrot/garlic mix.

Drain grease from the skillet, then place over medium heat. Pour in 2 c. of red wine, using a wire whisk to loosen all the goodies from the bottom of the pan. Salt the liquid and cook for three minutes to allow wine to decrease. Pour the wine over the chicken and vegetables in the baking pan. Cover and bake for 1 hour and 15 minutes to 1 hour and 30 minutes.

Serve over buttered noodles or mashed potatoes.

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

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So that you know that braising roasts until the meat falls off the bone isn’t the only thing I like about the fall months, I want you to know that I also look forward to autumn because of the World Series.

I am not a baseball fan. Baseball, like gardening, is one of those things that I want to like, but simply don’t. My sister loves baseball. She enjoys spending a day at the ballpark. She understands why the catcher is making funny hand signals and what they might mean. She knows what the bullpen is. I, on the other hand, have trouble sitting for three hours watching a sporting event that isn’t football.

My dad, who is now deceased, also loved baseball. Well, to be honest, he loved any sporting event that involved a ball. But especially in his later life, he loved his Colorado Rockies. And he loved to talk baseball with anyone who would listen. He would try with me, but I just didn’t know or care what a ground rule double was. So he would talk baseball with my sister, who does know what a ground rule double is. He always did like her best.

But even not being a baseball fan, I recognize that there is something special about the World Series. It’s the culmination of an entire summer of seemingly endless baseball. It has all that history and legend and controversy. I remember even in Catholic grade school in Nebraska in the 60s that the nuns let the boys listen to the World Series on their transistor radios during class because, well, it was the World Series.

One of the best things my sibs and I ever did was pool our money and buy Dad tickets to a World Series game back in 2007 when the Rockies played the Boston Red Sox. Dad was already unable to get around much without a wheel chair, but my stepmother accompanied him to the game. One of my sisters and I dropped them off at the ballpark. We parked the car illegally, and hustled them to the gate. We watched as my stepmother gamely pushed my dad through the purple throng, and we both agreed we felt much the same as we had when we watched our kids go off to kindergarten. Gulp. Later, my stepmother said that despite the crowd of excited fans, as they made their way towards the elevator, the “crowds parted like the Red Sea.” The fans were so kind, as only baseball fans can be.

The Rockies lost that game, and lost that series, but my dad never forgot that he got to attend a World Series game.

And in memory of my beef-loving dad, here is my fall recipe of the day:

Ree Drummond’s Perfect Pot Roast

Ingredients
Salt and pepper
One 3- to 5-lb. chuck roast
3 T olive oil
2 whole onions, peeled and halved
6 to 8 carrots, cut into 2-in pieces
1 c. red wine (optional)
3 c. beef broth
2 or 3 sprigs fresh rosemary
2 or 3 sprigs fresh thyme

Process
Preheat the oven to 275 degrees.
Generously salt and pepper the chuck roast.

Heat the olive oil in large pot or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add the onions to the pot, browning them on both sides. Remove the onions to a plate. Throw the carrots into the same very hot pot and toss them around a bit until slightly browned, about a minute or so. Reserve the carrots with the onions.

If needed, add a bit more olive oil to the very hot pot. Place the meat in the pot and sear it for about a minute on all sides until it is nice and brown all over. Remove the roast to a plate.

With the burner still on high, use either red wine or beef broth (about 1 c) to deglaze the pot, scraping the bottom with a whisk. Place the roast back into the pot and add enough beef stock to cover the meat halfway. Add in the onions and the carrots, along with the fresh herbs.

Put the lid on, then roast for 3 hours for a 3-lb. roast. For a 4- to 5-lb roast, plan on 4 hours. The roast is ready when it’s fall-apart tender.

Stalking Henny Penny

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I speak for many when I say I love the grocery store rotisserie chicken. Any evening when I don’t have a plan for dinner, or when I have a plan but the plan doesn’t sound good to me, it’s off to Whole Foods for a delicious roasted chicken.

We like it just as it is, served with a vegetable and maybe some biscuits. And since, seeings as there are only two of us, we can only eat half, there is always the other half to use as a second meal.

I went to Whole Foods the other evening expressly to get a roasted chicken for dinner. My plan was to eat half that night and to make chicken enchiladas the next night. When I got there at about 4:45, however, there were only four measly chickens on the platform. I glanced up at the rotisserie oven and saw that the birds looked brown and yummy and ready to package up and put out. Ah ha, I thought. I bet they put out fresh chickens at 5. I’ll wait for a hot roasted chicken.

So I wandered around the store. I looked at the cheeses. I stopped at the olive bar and filled up a container with olives and pickles. I checked out all of the great looking sausages. I went back to the roasted chicken rack. There were only three chickens sitting there. It was 5:03.

That’s okay, I thought. I’ll wait a bit longer. I went to the produce aisle and filled my basket with the makings for my salsa verde that I would use with my chicken enchiladas the next night. It was 5:10. I went back to the chicken rack. There was one lonely chicken, and it proudly boasted that it was unsalted. Unsalted? I glanced at the people behind the counter and no one appeared to be getting chickens ready to put out. Rats.

So I went back to the meat area and asked the butcher to cut one of the big rib eye steaks in half the long way. We would go to Plan B and have panfried steak. On my way to the checkout I walked by the chicken rack. That poor unsalted, unloved chicken was still sitting there all by himself.

The store was busy and the line was long. I was second in line when I glanced back at the deli area and saw that a young man was putting roasted chickens in containers. Yippee! I left my place in line without a backward glance and asked the young man if I could have one of the chickens he was preparing. Of course, he said.

I went home with a hot, delicious chicken for dinner, though the process took longer than I thought it would. And the next night, just as I planned we had chicken enchiladas. Double duty.

Stacked Green Chili Chicken Enchiladas

Ingredients
12 tomatillos, husked and rinsed
2 jalapenos, stemmed
1 onion, quartered
Splash white vinegar
Water
1 t. ground cumin
½ bunch fresh cilantro, coarsely chopped
2 limes
Salt
1 pint green chili (homemade or store-bought)
1 deli roasted chicken
½ bunch fresh cilantro, chopped
Salt and pepper to taste
12 corn tortillas
Cheese

Process
Make the salsa verde: Put the tomatillos, jalapenos, and onion in a saucepan with the vinegar and water to cover. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat and poach for 10 minutes. Drain. Put the vegetables in a blender, add the cumin, and puree. Add the cilantro, lime juice, and salt. Pulse to combine.

Bring the green chili to a simmer. Fold in the chicken, cilantro, salt and pepper.

Preheat oven to 350.

To assemble, place some salsa verde on the bottom of a 9 X 13 pan, and cover with corn tortillas. Layer the green chili/chicken mixture, the salsa verde, and the cheese two or three times. Bake uncovered for 30 minutes. Let sit a few minutes before cutting into the dish.

Bleeding Orange

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I happen to live in Denver, Colorado, where today – the opening day of the professional football season – we host the Baltimore Ravens in the year’s NFL season opener.

If you have happened to stumble upon my humble blog ramblings and you live in Seattle, or Miami, or St. Louis, or (heaven forbid from a Bronco’s standpoint) Oakland, you may just substitute your team name and your team color.

Today, here in the Mile High City, we are bleeding orange.

I undertook an early morning trip to the grocery store, and it tickled me to see how many people were already wearing the Bronco colors of blue and orange. Of course the store employees were wearing Bronco garb; likely, they are required to show Bronco affiliation to get a paycheck. However, shopper after shopper, old and young alike, were already in their Bronco clothing. Heck, I have to admit that I was wearing my Bronco shirt and a pair of orange flip flops!

The same was true when I took two of my grandchildren to the zoo. Many of the people looking at the zoo animals were wearing their beloved orange and blue. I’m happy to say the animals were spared.

I grew up in a football loving family. You learned to love the Cornhuskers in vitro if you live in Nebraska. So my sisters and I are just as likely as my brother to sit in front of the television on any given Sunday to watch the games. And cheer. And boo. And cover our eyes. And complain about the officiating. And take walks if the score is too close (well, actually that’s just me).

As a single mother for many years, I taught my son to love football as well. And he is a true fan. He not only will be in his Bronco shirt in front of his television tonight, but his two poor, helpless girlies (both of whom would rather be wearing a Princess Ariel dress) will be in their Bronco shirts because he is convinced that is necessary for the Broncos to win. Not that he’s superstitious or anything.

And what will we be eating as we watch the game? I am going to disappoint all of you. We will not be eating either orange or blue food. We will not, in fact, be eating anything vaguely related to football or tailgating. Alas, on the menu tonight is tilapia. I have a Weight Watchers weigh-in tomorrow.

Pan-Fried Tilapia

Ingredients
2 tilapia filets
½ c. seasoned all-purpose flour
1 T. butter
1 T. olive oil
1 lemon

Process
Melt the butter together with the olive oil in a nonstick fry pan. Dip your filets in the seasoned flour and shake off the excess. Place the filet in the hot pan and let it sear for a couple of minutes, until it’s browned on the first side. Turn over, and do the same on the second side. Remove the filets to a plate and cover. Squeeze the juice of a lemon into the pan with the butter and oil. Stir until you have a nice pan sauce. When serving the tilapia filets, pour the pan sauce over the fish, and serve with a side of lemon.

Try not to look at the disappointment on your husband’s face when he sees you aren’t serving chicken wings.

Go Broncos!

Walmart Wonderings

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I am not one of those folks who inherently hates Walmart. I have never quite understood some people’s knee-jerk loathing of this admittedly enormous retail giant.

In fact, I often shop at Walmart. I don’t love it, but I do it when I need certain items that, like it or not, are cheaper there. (And I am nothing if not a tightwad.) Still, Walmart shopping is one of my least favorite activities.

This is from a person who loves grocery shopping. (I can almost hear a symphony of groans.) However, since I am retired, I have the luxury of wandering through a grocery store looking at the various kinds of meats or cheeses, comparing prices on different brands, trying the samples, perhaps even sipping on a pumpkin spice latte, skinny, no whipped cream, that you can buy at the Starbucks that is located in every single solitary grocery store in the United States (even if there is a Starbucks in the same shopping center).

So, today as I shopped at Walmart, I decided to pass my time by observing certain phenomenon that caught my eye.

Why, for example, do so many male Walmart shoppers elect not to push the cart in a normal way, as would any woman shopper? Instead, so many men walk beside the cart and steer it from the side. Do they think it looks more masculine that way? And how do they control the cart? I would (and this is without a doubt) run the cart into a rack of t-shirts selling for $7.47 each.

And, speaking of that, why is that t-shirt $7.47? Why not $7.25 or $7.50, or round up to, say, $8?

And I love to see what they place up at the cash registers for people to ponder as they wait in line. When you look up impulse check-stand shopper in the dictionary, there I am. I have purchased many things that I didn’t know I couldn’t live without while waiting in line. Pipe cleaners. Nascar Bic lighters (and I don’t smoke or watch Nascar). Paula Deen’s magazine. Rachael Ray’s magazine. Weight Watchers Magazine (which I wouldn’t need if I didn’t cook out of Paula Deen’s or Rachael Ray’s magazines).

Nevertheless, my weekly shopping is done. And tonight I’m cooking for three of my granddaughters, ages 5, 7, and 10. I will make them the yummy chicken dish that I got from Pinterest for which I don’t really know the name. I have seen it called Heroin Chicken. I call it Buttery Chicken. Simply can’t serve my grandkids anything with heroin in the name.

Buttery Chicken

Ingredients
4-6 boneless chicken breasts or thighs
2 c. grated Parmesan cheese
3 T. parsley
2 T. dried oregano
3 t. paprika
1 t. pepper
1 t. salt
½ c. melted butter

Process
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Combine the grated cheese and the seasonings. Line a shallow baking pan with aluminum foil. I also place a sheet of parchment paper on top to help avoid sticking.

Melt the butter in a pan. Dip each piece of chicken into the butter, and then into the seasoned cheese, coating completely. Arrange in a single layer on the pan. Pour any remaining butter over the chicken.
Bake for 30-45 minutes, until nicely browned.