Growing up, true to the cliche, you’d find my sister, my twin brother, and me whining “chicken again?” as soon as my mom walked in the door after work and unpacked her two pounds of shrink-wrapped breasts from the Grand Union bag. Dinner: A Love Story [1] readers know all about Grandma Jody’s classic breaded cutlets, but my mother’s poultry repertoire ran deeper than that. There were her roasted game hens; her baked pieces dredged in flour and Parm then finished with lemon and a drizzle of cream; her “hot chicken sandwiches,” white meat slices laid on thick cut bread and smothered with gravy; her chicken pot pie…oh wait, maybe that was from Stouffer’s repertoire?
Anyway. Wouldn’t you think, based on the way I moaned and groaned about all this, that things in my house would be a little different?
Apparently not. Apparently, along with my mother’s inability to sit still and her affinity for minuscule portions, I also inherited whatever gene it is that sets “chicken” as the default mode for dinner. (Based on how many of you guys out there click on the Chicken [2] category over there in the side rail, I know I’m not alone.) And as if that’s not enough, lately I’ve been into making extra, so we can build the girls’ school lunches on whatever’s left over — just one extra breast stretches into two basic wraps like the ones you see above. Phoebe likes hers with a smear of mustard, Abby prefers mayo. They both get a leaf or two from the CSA bag, tomatoes if we have them, salt, and a few grinds of pepper. I love a dinner that pays off in lunch dividends. No complaining here.
Archive Dig! A Few Chicken Dinners to mix things up (Clockwise from top left): Pretzel Chicken [3]; Curried Chicken with Apples on Pita; [4] Indonesian Chicken Salad with Spicy Peanut Sauce [5]; Andy’s Homemade Shake n Bake Chicken [6] (speaking of the 80s)