Tag Archives: food

Chicken Artichoke Pasta Alfredo

This scrumptious recipe is woman-pleasin’ to the max. I attempted to make it man-pleasin’ as well by sprinkling some bacon on top. The results:

Me: So what do you think? Isn’t this awesome?

My man: Um, well, it’s alright.

Me: “Alright”?? “Alright“?? Are we eating the same dish? Did I not sprinkle enough bacon on? Seriously, you don’t love this?

My man: I mean, it’s okay. I like it fine.

Me: “Okay”??? “Fine”???? *spazzing out*

My man: Yeah, it’s fine. Not mind-blowing, but it’s good.

*at this point I’m passed out on the floor*

So I’m just going to skip the whole burning question that has my mind on fire: did God really create my taste buds so differently from my husband’s? Is it a woman/man thing? Or is he a freak of nature? Or wait, maybe I’m the freak of nature?

Anyway, ignore this whole little session and just remember the fact that I fully endorse the deliciousness of this dish.

Ingredients

(Serves 5)

3 TBS olive oil

4 cloves garlic, minced

1.25 lb boneless skinless chicken breasts (1 1/2 breasts)

salt and pepper, to taste

1 lb farfalle (bowtie) pasta

2 14 oz cans artichoke hearts, drained (rinse well if using marinated hearts)

1 stick unsalted butter

1 c heavy whipping cream

1 1/2 c freshly grated parmesan cheese

4 slices bacon, chopped and fried (optional garnish)

1 TBS minced thyme or rosemary leaves (optional garnish)

First, get the pasta water (salted) on the stove so that we can get that farfalle cooked!

I chose to prep my garnish first–don’t ask why that made any kind of sense. I’d fried up some bacon the night before, so I chopped it up nice and fine along with some rosemary.

Thyme is also delicious on this dish. I should note that if you choose to use raw herbs for the garnish (as opposed to cooking the rosemary with the bacon, for example, or adding it to the chicken as it’s frying), chop it up finely! A mouthful of herb can be a rather bitter experience. You want tiny pieces–they pack a whomp.

Now, chop the chicken into bite-sized cubes.

Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high to high heat. When it’s hot, add the garlic and chicken.

Immediately sprinkle the chicken with salt and black pepper. Cook for about 5 minutes, until the chicken is starting to look less raw.

Open and drain those artichoke hearts–we don’t want any excess liquid going in.

Add the artichoke hearts, and cook for another 3 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Looking good.

Now you could chop up your artichoke hearts if you want, but I just broke them apart in the pan with my wooden stirring device:

I also used this opportunity to quickly grate the parmesan.

Add the butter to the artichokes and chicken . . .

Watch it melt with longing in your eyes.

Once it’s fully melted, add the cream . . .

. . . and parmesan.

Continue to cook for another few minutes until it’s turned into a lovely, thick sauce.

It looks a little pale, and that’s why the garnish is so important. It adds a beautiful pop to what could be a boring-looking dish.

When the pasta is done, pour it into the sauce and stir it around to combine.

Ew. That picture is disturbing, disgusting, and unappetizing. The drips of sauce look like . . . stalactites. Please pretend it never happened.

Let’s serve it up and top it off with some rosemary and bacon pieces.

Much prettier without those stalactites hanging ’round like they do.

You can also grate on a little more Parmesan if that does it for you.

I used one of my favorite Christmas gifts: a microplane zester.

Perfect!

Let’s take another bite.

Enjoy, ladies. And . . . men? If your taste buds are so inclined.

Click here for printer-friendly version: Chicken Artichoke Pasta Alfredo

The Biltong adventure

I am so excited.

You know how there are extreme sports? The ones where you’re risking your life making jumps down a rocky, snowy hill and such?

Well I’m about to initiate myself into what I call extreme cooking. Dangerous, adrenaline-inducing, hazardous, risky–and I’m taking you on my journey, like it or not.

Look what came in the mail for me!

Biltong seasoning.

It came from a store called “The African Hut,” and their customer service rep has a lovely South African accent. Which is just as it should be, since this seasoning is going to be an intrinsic part of a South African treat.

My brother-in-law Mike is from South Africa, and his dad has been making biltong for years. I tasted it while on a road trip with Mike and Heidi, and promptly helped devour a whole bagful of it.

Think beef jerky, but a little different. Smaller pieces, incredible flavor. And homemade.

Are you scared yet?

Yes. I will be purchasing raw meat, slicing it up, seasoning it, and drying it out.

As long as I don’t give myself food poisoning, everything will be fine and dandy. And since I regularly submit myself to the risk of salmonella due to my unfettered love of cookie dough, cake dough, and any kind of dough (amen), my body is used to the danger.

As soon as I make a successful batch, I’ll post the instructions for y’all . . . probably followed by a million disclaimers. Such as 1) Prepare this at your own risk 2) Some government agency probably says something about the risks of cured meat 3) Please don’t get sick 4) Please don’t make this or consume it if you have a funny feeling in your big toe 5) It’s not my fault 6) Nothing is my fault.

The plan is to use the Biltong seasoning, and also to try and create my own seasoning. Because I understand that not everyone wants to drop $50 to buy a seasoning to make a potentially risky meat snack that they may not even like. I’ll include a thorough comparison of the two results.

Hold onto your hats, folks. And if you stop by our apartment unannounced, please be prepared for a potentially frightening vision–little strips of animal flesh hanging up everywhere.