Lately (and for reasons I can’t quite explain) I’ve been drawn to books with supremely inane titles. Good to Great. Getting it Done. Making Things Happen. I stood in line at the Brooklyn Public Library yesterday with a few of these books and you better believe it was a reality check.
There are more uplifting and exciting posts coming soon, I promise… I was just tired of looking at that chicken salad and thought I should post something.
Recommended: Pat Metheny’s One Quiet Night on a Sunday evening. Especially if one loud week awaits.
This sandwich puts extra chicken to work for you. The English muffin succeeds where more notable breads fail. A sourdough places too much of a masticatory burden on the eater, ejecting chicken salad out the back of the sandwich. A toasted English muffin offers a perfect combination of sandwich structure and ease of chewing.
For the Chicken Salad
1 roasted chicken. I highly recommend Alice Waters’s method, described in The Art of Simple Food. And don’t skimp on the chicken, get one of those pampered free range birds that only urban liberal elites eat, it’s worth it. Some mayonnaise A mustard you like Any combination of: diced apples, diced pears, chopped celery, olives, diced pickles, chopped banana peppers, chopped walnuts — really, whatever you like in your chicken salad. I went with celery and apples; in the future I’ll substitute something saltier for apples, as the finished product was a tad too close to Waldorf salad for my taste. Salt and pepper to taste
Chicken Salad Preparation
Roast the chicken and eat it for dinner. Don’t worry, there will be plenty left over. Pick off any remaining chicken from the carcass and tear into bite-size chunks (this is easy, but somewhat messy). Add mayo, mustard, and any additional ingredients you’d like in your chicken salad. Exact measurements aren’t really necessary—just add ingredients until it looks and tastes right to you.
For the Slider
1 English muffin, toasted Mustard to taste
Slider Preparation
Toast the English muffin. Pile the chicken salad high atop the sturdier half of the muffin, add mustard to the other half. Combine and serve for $4 each at the letterpress-studio-slash-brewpub you plan to open “in your 30s.”
It was a good day for creating new routines. Listening to this song on the way out the door this morning helped a little. I’m not sure whether it’s a lament or a joyful song; I’m a such a sucker for a soaring chorus that I’ll go on believing it’s the latter.
Ate crab. Maggie and I decided to go big and stay at home for Christmas dinner. The menu: snow crab legs, artichokes, and sweet potato fries. A duet of Hitachino Nest ales complemented our meal.
Brewed beer. This one is an imperial wheat stout. I made a yeast starter for the first time, which created such a vigorous fermentation that it blew the stopper off the top of the carboy on the first night. The blowoff tube I rigged up to handle the excess CO2 provided quality entertainment for two days straight… if you’re a fan of fart jokes, that is.
Raced Buddy. I had a lovely New Years in frigid New Hampshire with Maggie’s family. In spite of the temperature, I wanted to spend a little time in the wide open spaces of rural New England so I went out with Buddy out a couple of times. We raced him up the driveway in near-zero temperatures—while it’s humbling to be beaten by a dog, it’s perhaps even more humbling to have to catch one’s breath for a solid ten minutes after the defeat.
. And don’t skimp on the chicken, get one of those pampered free range birds that only urban liberal elites eat, it’s worth it.
