I Feel Like Chicken ... Almost Every Night

Meatless Mondays were fun. Eating bread and cereal and fruit and potatoes was fun, too. But the doctor put an end to all of that a couple of months ago. Long story short, I need to watch my carbs and eat a lot of protein, according to my doc. And I mean a lot.

So, that's what happened to Meatless Mondays. I figured you'd been wondering and thought it was only fair I give you a little explanation.

Water Bagels Make the Husband Happy

I reward the husband with food. It's a bad habit, I know, and probably one I should break before we open this house up to any little people, but it works. Food treats make the husband happy, and they make me happy. And, for that, I doubt I'll be able to stop anytime soon.

The husband has been super spectacular lately. I, obviously, always think he's the bee's knees, but he has really stepped up lately. I think he's vying for the Husband of the Year Award. Or maybe he's hoping Santa's watching. Either way, his good behavior has earned him multiple food rewards in the last week.

Thanksgiving Trial Run: Buttermilk Cornbread Dressing

Buttermilk Cornbread Dressing
Slightly Adapted From the Recipe Featured in Country Living, November 2011

1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
1 batch moist cornbread, allowed to dry at room temp for two days and cut into 1-inch pieces
a dash of lemon juice
1 1/2 cups fat-free low-sodium chicken broth
1 stick unsalted butter, melted
1 1/4 teaspoons salt
1/2 teaspoon fresh ground pepper

Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the onion and cook until tender, about seven minutes, stirring frequently.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. 

Put the onion mixture into a large bowl. Add in the cornbread. Coat with lemon juice, broth, butter, salt and pepper. Toss until moistened.

Spread in a 13-x-9-inch baking dish and cover with aluminum foil. Bake for 20 minutes. Uncover and bake for another 20 minutes or until crusty on top and hot all the way through.

Enjoy!

The original recipe called for sausage, pecans and parsley, but I hate sausage, Little Big Brother is allergic to nuts and I didn't have any parsley in the house. For Thanksgiving, though, I think it'll be worth it to invest in some parsley. It'll brighten things up a bit and add a little more flavor, I think.

This dressing was good - the husband liked it and the tiny piece I allowed myself was awfully tasty. We both agreed, though, that it was quite buttery and next time I should cut the bread into smaller pieces. One-inch pieces were a bit large. The husband even suggested I cook a little onion in the cornbread next time so all of the onion pieces don't sink to the bottom of the baking dish. I suggested I throw some celery in when the big day comes around, but the husband is pushing back on that idea. Apparently he didn't miss the traditional celery, but I think others might.

Overall, this was a winner and will definitely be on our Thanksgiving table. It may need a few tweaks before it hits our family members' plates, but it's a keeper for sure.

Thanksgiving Trial Run: Moist Cornbread

Moist Cornbread

I'm addicted to recipes. Was it not obvious? Well, now I've admitted it. And with this addiction comes magazine reading, cookbook collecting, Google searching, Foodbuzz gazing. I can't stop. I collect recipes, and I look forward to making new dishes for the husband. And when I know I have family and/or friends coming to our house, I get super excited about what I can cook them. Super. Excited.

But my excitement goes right out the window when I try out a recipe that fails and leaves me angry and embarrassed. "If it ain't broke, don't fix it," the husband will tell me. Well, what do you do when you don't necessarily have a tried-and-true recipe under your belt for said dish, but you really want to serve it to company. Do a trial run. Duh.

I act like I've done this forever. Really, though, I'm more likely to make a new recipe when our parents come to visit, have it fail, get all bent out of shape when it doesn't look like the picture and ask myself why I didn't make it before our company arrived. So I'm going to - finally - follow my own advice.