How I Got 3 Meals from 2 Chicken Breasts and 4 Sweet Potatoes

img_5225I know. The title of this post is akin to the miracle of the fish and the loaves. However, no miracles were performed. Instead, just some thrifty stretching of food with my trusty slow-cooker. Also, I want to hasten to add that these 3 meals were for Clif and me, just the 2 of us. Yet even with this qualification, 3 meals from 2 chicken breasts and 4 sweet potatoes come under the heading of pretty darned frugal, which can only be a good thing during this very cold winter. And tasty, too, if I do say so myself.

Here is what I did. I took 4 medium sweet potatoes and cut them into large cubes. (I didn’t peel them.) I sprinkled salt and pepper on them and added a cup of water. I put two large chicken breasts on top of the sweet potatoes and seasoned them with more salt and pepper as well as thyme and sage. (I didn’t measure. I just sprinkled liberally.) Then I added two cloves of minced garlic. Onion lovers could certainly substitute or add onions as well. I set the slow-cooker on high and let everything cook for about 4 hours.

On night 1, we each had half a chicken breast and some sweet potatoes. Clif and I could have eaten more, but we refrained, which meant that we had both leftover chicken and sweet potatoes. Also, there was a lovely broth from the water and the chicken. I removed the chicken and sweet potatoes from the broth, and put them into separate containers.

Because I have a large refrigerator, I left the broth in the slow-cooker’s crockery and tucked the whole thing in the refrigerator. The next day, I used this as the base for meal 2.

I put the crockery with the broth into the base of the slow cooker, and turned it to high. I added 4 cups of water; 1 whole onion, peeled; 2 cloves of garlic, roughly chopped; 1/2 teaspoon of salt; and 1/4 teaspoon of ground pepper. (Actually, I didn’t measure the pepper. I just ground some in.) If I had had some celery, I would have included a rib or two in the stock, but I didn’t.

I let the stock bubble on high for about 5 hours.  Then, I removed the onion. Into the slow cooker, I added the sweet potatoes, with the skins removed, and using my immersion blender, I pureed the sweet potatoes into the stock. Right there, I had a lovely, creamy soup that would have been fine just as it was.

However, Clif likes his soup to have ingredients, and if we do have a creamy soup, he loads it with crushed saltine crackers. Knowing his preference, I usually add ingredients to most every soup I make. So into the sweet potato soup I added the leftover chicken, chopped into large pieces, and 2 cans of black beans. In the refrigerator, we had leftover couscous, and I added that as well, but any small- or medium-sized pasta would work. (Because pasta and couscous have a tendency to swell, the next time I make this soup, I would add warm pasta or couscous or even rice to the bottom of each serving bowl and ladle the soup on top.)

I made some biscuit muffins to go with the soup, and Clif was a happy husband.

The third meal, of course, was leftover soup and biscuit muffins.

Now, this kind of meal could be amended in a couple of ways. For those living alone and who have a small slow-cooker—yes, Megan, I am directing this at you—the ingredients could be halved, and you would get at least two meals from this. For those with a bigger family, load that slow-cooker right up. In fact, maybe even have 2 of them going.

However it is done, you will still have 2 or 3 thrifty meals, perfect for this time of year when the nights are long and oh so cold.

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The Joy of Being Busy

For over a week, I have had some kind of flu/virus that has taken the wind out of my sails, as the saying goes. The past few days have been the worse, with much coughing and little sleeping. I’ve spent quite a bit of time on the couch, and I’ve forced myself to do a few chores so that the house won’t look too bad when I am well again. But what an effort everything is. I don’t have the focus to post recipes on this blog—I have a couple in mind, and I’m just waiting for this darned flu to say adios—and I don’t have the focus to work on fiction. I can’t go for walks in the woods.

Because I can’t be my usual busy self, time itself seems to have slowed down. Yesterday, after taking a short catnap on the couch, I woke up and thought it was at least 6:30. Instead, it was only 5:00, with the whole long night ahead of me. As I didn’t get to sleep until 2:00 a.m., the night was very long indeed.

This enforced inactivity has made me realize how much I enjoy my busy life, a combination of cooking, writing, chores, family, reading, volunteering, meeting with friends, and, this time of year, taking walks in the wood. Couch and tea time are ever so much more enjoyable at the end of a busy day rather than as a continuum of a long, idle afternoon spent waiting to feel better.

So there it is. I enjoy being busy. I like being productive and useful. Having a list of projects adds pep to my life.

As there is plenty to do in this life, in this rural state, in this little town, I never have to wonder how to fill my hours. And as soon as this virus goes away, I’ll gratefully return to my busy routine, ordinary yet oh so absorbing.

February 14, 2014: Bits and Bobs from the Internet

img_5265The good news is, we didn’t lose our power. The bad news is, the snow is extremely heavy and thus hard to move. And there’s a lot of it at the little house in the big woods. Thanks goodness for Little Green, our electric snow-thrower. For years, Clif and I shoveled by hand the driveway and the backyard pathways, but no more. If Little Green ever stops working, we will buy a replacement. Pronto. Even with Little Green’s help, there is plenty to shovel, and I will be working at it off and on during the day. Nature’s gym! However, I must admit I’m more than a little “winter weary.”

Winter weary or not, Happy Valentine’s Day to all. I hope it is a sweet one with plenty of chocolate.

From NPR’s the salt: If you hate skim or low-fat milk, then here comes some good news. According to the salt, “two recent studies…conclude the consumption of whole fat dairy is linked to reduced body fat.”

From Mother Earth News: ‘Tis still the season for soup, and here’s a bean soup recipe that sounds warm and hearty.

From the Portland Press Herald: Tired of soup? If you’re in Portland, then head to the Daily Greens, a salad bar at the Public Market House.

From Eating Well: For Valentine’s Day or any other day—a recipe for Dark Chocolate Meringue Drops.

From the New York Times: In his column, Mark Bittman suggests that all restaurant servers should be page a real, non-tip adjusted wage.

From the Guardian: From a girl named Jack—how to save money on groceries.

A February Nor’easter

img_5259Another day, another snow storm. This one, coming from the South, is a true Nor’easter, and the prediction is that we’ll get at least a foot of snow. Maybe more. I’m sure I’m not the only who wished the darned thing had just blown out to sea. Ah, well. It is February in Maine.

In central Maine, it started to snow at 11:00 a.m., and I decided to take the dog for a walk in the woods before the weather got too bad. Into the woods we went—me with my ski pole to help steady myself on the trail, and Liam with his usual light feet. How wonderful it is that he is still so spry at nine years old.

We were gone for about 40 minutes, and the snow fell softly on us, on the trail, on the frozen lake. In the distance, I heard snowmobiles, but none of them came close to us, and the dog could trot freely off-leash.

Liam on the Upper Narrows
Liam on the Upper Narrows

When we came back, I made bread, and as I did so, I periodically looked out the kitchen window into the backyard. Gray and red squirrels were nipping food from the bird feeders. For a moment, I was tempted to let the dog out back to chase them away. But then I thought of the storm and winter and how squirrels get hungry, too, and I kept the dog inside.

Birds also came to the feeders, and the backyard was aflutter with them—chickadees, woodpeckers, tufted titmice, and gold finches. On the ground, mourning doves pecked at seed that had spilled from the feeder. Behind the squirrels and the birds, the dark woods were still, and the snow continued to fall softly on everything.

 

 

Bare Branches Against Blue Sky

One of the things I love most about winter is seeing bare branches against a bright blue sky. I never get tired of the stark beauty of the trees silhouetted against the sky. When I walk in the woods, I tend to look up, and I have to be careful I don’t trip. Another thing I like about the bare branches is that they reveal things—such as squirrels’ nests—that are hidden when the trees have leaves.

Here are some pictures I took recently.

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To Portland for a Book Launch Party for Talking Walls

img_5214Last Friday, I drove to Portland for a book launch party for Talking Walls: Discover Your World, written by my friend Margy Burns Knight. (Clif was supposed to go, but he had caught a nasty virus and quite sensibly stayed home.) The party was held at Mainely Frames & Gallery, right on Congress Street, and the whole store was decked out with Talking Walls related displays—from art work by the talented Anne Sibley O’Brien, who illustrated the book, to a mannequin “reading” Talking Walls in the big window at the front of the store.

That Friday was also Portland’s First Friday Art Walk, and Congress Street had the air of a carnival. Lots of people were on the street, and many stores were open, featuring art displays and offering free food. There were even street artists, set up with little stands to display their art. Where else but in Maine would anyone even think of doing this in February? I wish I had had some extra money. I would have bought something from one of those plucky street artists.

I did, of course, buy a copy of Talking Walls, and it was beautifully signed—I mean this literally—by Anne Sibley O’Brien and Margy Knight. This book will go to Sara, a young woman who will soon be having a baby. I have known Sara since she was a little girl. I went to her wedding several years ago, and now I am going to her baby shower. And, as I’ve mentioned previously, when I go to baby showers, I like to bring books as presents.

The food at the reception was made by Margy’s daughter, Emilie Knight and her partner, David Gulak. The food was delicious, especially a blueberry ricotta spread with balsamic vinegar and roasted garlic. Using what I think might be the right proportions, I will definitely try making this spread at home. Emilie and David are starting a catering service called Knilak’s Catering, and their business is so new that it doesn’t have a website yet. However, for information about catering, Emilie can be reached at emilie.m.knight@gmail.com.

Tasty food provide by Knilak's Catering.
Tasty food provide by Knilak’s Catering.

Lots of people came to the book launch party, and many of them were Margy’s friends from central Maine. Books, good food, friends, and art. What a fine way to spend a clear, cold night in February.

I’m going to end this post where I began, with Talking Walls. Here is a quotation about the book from Margy’s website: “Visit walls of joy and of sadness, walls built to protect people or to keep them apart.”

Yes, indeed.

Anne Sibley O'Brien and Margy Burns Knight
Anne Sibley O’Brien and Margy Burns Knight

Friday, February 7, 2014: Bits and Bobs from the Internet

A fine, cold day. The windows are frosted, and the snow in our yard still glitters. Today, there will be a walk with the dog in the woods, and I’ll bundle up with hat, head band, neck warmer, warm coat, leggings, and warm gloves. I’ll also bring my camera. The other day, I took a picture of bittersweet on snow, and it came out so well that I’m going to print it and see whether it will be a good photo for a card. During the course of the year, I send and give lots of cards made with photos I have taken. I have estimated that I give nearly 100 photo-cards in any given year. Birthdays and anniversaries. Sympathy cards. Thank-you cards. Notes just to say hi. Bundles of cards given as gifts. On Monday, I brought “flowers”— five note cards with pictures of flowers—to my friend Esther, who hasn’t been feeling well. So the moral of this story is that when I go out, I almost always bring my camera with me. You never know when you’re going to get a good picture.

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From Sustainable America: Ten things to do with stale bread.

From Bill Moyers & Company: Amy B. Dean interviews Michael Pollan, who maintains our food is dishonestly priced.

From Eating Well: A recipe for clementine and five-spice chicken. Just reading the recipe made me hungry.

From the Good Shepherd Food-Bank’s blog: Heat or eat?

From Maine Today: Soup recipes from the blog Spoon & Shutter.

From Maine Magazine: Little BIGS, a bakery to try out in South Portland. My, oh my, they even sell donuts!

February 6, 2014: After the Snow Storm

Gideon, the little guardian of the backyard
Gideon, the little guardian of the backyard

In central Maine, we had a snow storm yesterday, and it brought between 6 and 8 inches of light, fluffy snow. A perfect kind of snow storm. Clean-up was easy, and we didn’t lose our power. This morning, Liam and I went outside, me to finish shovelling, and Liam to leap and bark at the flying snow. The air was clear and cold. The sky was a deep blue, and the sun made the snow sparkle in its white expanse. At the little house in the big woods, it seems as though we are surrounded by a sea of snow. This afternoon I’ll go out to finish the clean-up. If my nose and toes aren’t too cold, I’ll take the dog for a walk in the woods.

Dinner is all set. A few days ago, I put chicken legs in the slow-cooker and spread leftover cranberry chutney on top of them. This has given us three meals, and tonight I’ll use the last of the chicken. I’ll remove it from the bone, simmer it in the chicken drippings that I saved from the first slow-cooker meal, and serve the chicken and drippings over couscous. We had this last night, and my, it was good, if I do say so myself. The cranberry chutney has given the drippings a lovely, slightly tart flavor.

A nice warm meal for a cold night.

The sea of snow in the front yard
The sea of snow in the front yard
Ditto for the backyard
Ditto for the backyard
Liam, dog of the North
Liam, dog of the North

 

 

A Franco-American Salon at Susan Poulin’s House

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The dessert table, with about half the desserts that were brought to the Salon.

On Sunday, I went to Susan (aka Ida LeClair) Poulin’s house for a Franco Salon. A bit of backstory: For the past few years, Franco-American writers, musicians, educators, and story tellers have been getting together once a year for what we call Rassemblement, a gathering. The past couple of years we have met at the Darling Marine Center in beautiful Walpole, Maine. At the gatherings, we read, we perform, we present, we sing, and being Francos, we talk. A lot. At each Rasemblement, there is a wonderful feeling of support, of camaraderie, and a sense—to borrow from Susan—of coming home.

(The history of Franco-Americans in Maine is not a happy story. It’s filled with prejudice and discrimination, ranging from voter suppression to the Klan marching against Francos. By Maine law, French—as it was spoken by Franco-Americans—was stamped out in schools, at work places, and other public institutions, and by the time my generation came, it was mostly gone. No bilingualism for Maine. No, siree.)

Anyway, we all enjoyed being together so much, that someone—perhaps Denis Ledoux?—suggested we get together throughout the year to share our work and support each other. So various people have opened their homes for Franco Salons, and last Sunday Susan Poulin—a talented storyteller and writer—and her husband Gordon Carlisle—a Francophile and a talented artist—opened their home to us.

As a good eater, I must first comment on the food. There were 13 or so of us at the Rasemblement, and I swear we had enough food to feed at least 20, maybe even more. We Francos are taught, at an early age, that to not have enough food at a gathering is a very, very bad thing. Maybe not a mortal sin, but certainly a venial sin. Indeed, to run out of food at a party would be enough to make most Francos twist inside out with mortification.

Therefore, there was quantity—breads, cheese, crackers, oranges, and a multitude of desserts—but there was also quality. Oh, there was quality. Susan made two delicious soups—a turkey sausage soup and a peanut stew. She also made a huge salad so delectable that I could have filled up on just that and some of the wonderful bread other guests brought. Part of what made the salad so good was the dressing Susan made, with a high quality olive oil and balsamic vinegar she gets from a local shop. I can truthfully say that I’ve never tasted such a good dressing.

Oh, that salad!
Oh, that salad!

After we finished eating and talking, we settled into the living room. I read a couple of posts from my blog, and Susan read from her “Ida” blog as well. David Morreau and Susann Pelletier read poetry. Michael Parent told a story of the legendary Ti-Jean, sometimes a fool and sometimes a genius. Lucie Therrien sang two songs. Bob Perreault read from his novel, and Denis from a memoir he’s writing about his time in the seminary. Joan Vermette read a portion of an imagined monologue from a long-dead cousin who talks from way beyond the grave. Norman Beaupré read a scene from of one his novels.

As I listened, not only did I feel as though I was “at home” with these gifted Franco-Americans, but I also felt proud to be a part of this group, proud to be Franco-American.

Michael Parent's hand digging into dip. He, too, is a good eater.
Michael Parent’s hand digging into dip. He, too, is a good eater.

Friday, January 31: Bits and Bobs from the Internet

For the first time in a long while, I will not be writing “cold, cold, cold.” Today in central Maine, the weather is very fine for the end of January, and soon the dog and I will be going for a woods walk. I love the the woods in winter, the calm and the quiet. At least for me. For the creatures of the woods, I expect life is anything but calm. There is the constant search for food and for some, the constant avoidance of becoming food. That, of course, is the way of things. In the woods, the dog sniffs at all the enticing smells, and I take in the beauty, the dark trees against the snow. At home, at the end, there is always tea and fruit and a little something crunchy to go with it. Winter pleasures.

 

From the Portland Press Herald: A food pantry on SMCC to help its struggling students.

From BuzzFeed: ‘Tis the season for soup, and here’s a “definitive” ranking.

From NPR: Obese kindergarteners have a tendency to become obese adults.

From Eating Well: Need a break from soup? Here’s an almond-&-lemon-crusted fish recipe.

From the Guardian: Think you are hip because you eat quinoa? Well, hold onto your coolness because a new grain is coming to town, and that grain is teff.

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