Fast-Food for Spoiled Brats

Insert Homer Simpson's Drooling Noise Here...

In two days, we will be a one-income household.  Scott is leaving his job waiting tables at a restaurant, taking a week off to get ready and starting TEACHERS' COLLEGE on the 31st!!!  I could not be happier for him, and despite worrying about my salary bearing the brunt of our expenses, I know we will get through it.


Growing up, I was lucky enough not to realize people worried about money.  My parents were careful not to discuss it in front of my sister and me, and we were comfortable.  When I first moved out of my house, I was lucky enough that my mom sent healthy food down every weekend with my then-boyfriend.  Furthermore, when I DID have to grocery shop, it was financed by my more-than-generous budget from home.  Am I telling you all this because I want to sound like a spoiled brat?  No.  I'm just saying that until a couple of years ago, I did not really know how much food cost.  By this I mean, the challenge of grocery shopping was not whether or not I was getting a bargain, but to find healthy, interesting options.


I remember distinctly having an argument with another boyfriend (we lived together) about how much I spent on groceries...  he told me I had purchased the most expensive cheese he'd ever seen, and how come I didn't get chicken when it was on sale?  My answer was, "Because I wanted THAT cheese and if we need chicken, we need chicken!"  Are you hating me yet?  I'm cringing now that I think about this!  Well.  Things.  Have.  Changed.  I am now able (thanks to Scott's help and growing the hell up) to guess our grocery bill within a couple of dollars, and I ONLY buy chicken breasts when they are on sale!


Oops.  All this lead to my actual reason for posting.  I had a huge bag of chicken breasts that I had gotten on sale, and I wanted to do something different with them.  I think a common misconception of eating the way I do is that I PREFER healthy choices to unhealthy ones.  While this is often true, sometimes I want fast food too!  I just usually prefer not to have the awful, cement in your stomach, food hangover that comes with it.  So I decided I would make chicken fingers.  Hmmm....  how do you make wheat, yeast, dairy-free batter?  Here's what I did:
Oregano
Cayenne
Onion Powder
Garlic Powder
Arrowroot Starch or Flour
A packet of Dairy-Free Organic Instant Oatmeal with Flax
An egg


I sliced up the chicken breasts on the bias (way easier if they are still a little frozen), dipped them in the egg and then coated them with the batter.  Then I used a little olive oil to grease a cookie sheet and threw them in the oven for about 40 minutes at 350.  Then, because I was also making sweet potato fries, I cranked the oven to 425, put them on the top rack and turned on the convection option on my oven for about another ten minutes  (I learned from a friend's husband that this makes oven fries crispy, and it did the same for the chicken fingers).


We had the chicken with tabasco-infused ketchup, a carrot-balsamic salad and the sweet potato fries.  I guess this was my version of chicken fingers, coleslaw and fries... and it was GOOD.  I've since used this batter recipe to coat salmon, I just replaced the egg with Dijon Mustard and the Oregano with Dill.  


Guys, I'll never be normal, and eat normal food.  But at least from time to time, I get to pretend!

The Devil is in the Details

Sometimes my big mouth gets me into trouble.  Sometimes, I think I'm waaaaay more awesome than I really am.  And sometimes, no good deed goes unpunished.

Scott has a friend who is a former stand-up comedian.  He's mean.  I know that sounds harsh, but to be honest, I'm a completely overly-sensitive person and have always been terrified to go see a stand-up comedian because I'm afraid he or she would pick on me and make me cry.  Well, this guy picks on everyone, and yes, he has made me cry.  The thing is, when the "mean-ness" is directed at anyone else, it's pretty darn hilarious.  Does this make me a hypocrite?  Absolutely.  Does it make him fun to be around?  Guilty.

Last year, on this friend's birthday, I said I would make him cupcakes and then my health took a nose-dive and I didn't get to it.  This year, come hell or high water, I was.  Making.  The.  Damn.  Cupcakes.  So I go ahead and promise he'll be getting whatever kind of cupcakes he wanted.  He said Vanilla.  Um...  clearly this guy doesn't know how much I adore decorating the cupcakes!!!  Flavours?  Important, but decorations????  Gah!  The best part!  So I say (insert insane cockiness here) "What do you want on them? I can make anything!"  I tell you this:  this is the first time in my life I have suffered from HIGH self esteem.  Sheesh.

His answer:  "I want boy stuff.  You know, devils, guns, power tools."  Oh.  Em.  Gee.  Out of FONDANT?!?!

Furthermore, I live with a boy who loved his birthday guitar cake, and considers "boy stuff" to be poker, rock 'n roll and cars... all way easier to sculpt out of fondant, and all, I'm sure, easier to Google.  Well, a promise is a promise, and I like a challenge, so I got out my black and burgundy food colouring, my silver drages (obviously for shrapnel) and set to work.  I still have stains on my hands, as I quite "blondly" didn't even THINK of using gloves.  Hmmm.

Sadly, the results were less than perfect.  There were a lot of "What the hell is on those cupcakes???" and "Who the hell made THOSE?" when I brought them to Scott's work.  (Keep in mind, the last time I brought cupcakes to Scott's workplace, they were visions of chocolate monarch butterflies on the palest of yellow frosting, all made from scratch.  The guns looked confusing (I'm Canadian.  I've never even SEEN a handgun), and the devils, while pretty gnarly, actually bore a striking resemblance to the birthday boy...  

That said, the cupcakes may have been a disaster, but the karma was pretty sweeeeeeeeet!

Birthday Boy

I do not condone guns... just sayin'

Upside?  Got to use my AWESOME cupcake caddy... a wedding present from my cupcake buddy!