Category: Chicken

Guatemala

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I’ve recently returned from an amazing and eye-opening trip to Guatemala. And, boy, do I have lots to show and tell!

But what better way to recap than to simply show you a mass of vivid photographs and tell you a compiled version of the “7 Things You Must Know about Guatemala,” according to my own unforgettable experience. Continue reading

Spice-Rubbed Chicken Tacos with Cilantro Slaw & Chipotle Cream

 

I wasn’t planning on even mentioning this dish. I have no expertise in the realm of authentic Latina cooking and typically leave it up to others that actually know what they’re talking about. I mostly just do the eating. Since, well, that happens to be my expertise.
But it makes no difference because these impromptu tacos and those close to the HungrytoHappy kitchen were at something of a standstill. They were dinner last Tuesday. They were lunch on Wednesday. They were a snack on Thursday. And if that isn’t a good indication of how good they were, let me tell you. They were awesome.
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Chicken Makhani & Garlic Naan

Life is a lot like running. In high school, I used to be my cross country team’s captain. At my school, the high school cross country team was open to middle school students and I remember running my very first 5km race in the cool Autumn breeze of the 8th grade. At the time, I was oblivious to the necessary training and immense mental strength primarily involved in finishing a race. I figured I was young, agile, and fit enough to instantly become one of the faster runners. Plus, I had my lucky pair of running shoes on. Sadly, I was terribly mistaken. I recall sprinting at the starting line to get a head start and consequently shifting between brisk walks, quick spurts, and sluggish jogs. When I finally reached the finish line, there weren’t many people there. I thought it was because I was one of the first to finish. In my exhausted state, I had been completely unaware of the people that had zoomed and zipped passed right in front of me. Finish time: 46 minutes. Wow, I thought, I must be fast. For all I knew, running was a cinch.
I was so wrong. To my later embarrassment and horror, I found out that I had been one of the stragglers – the slowpokes. But instead of getting discouraged and quitting, I continued going to practice 4 times a week and races every Saturday – even if it was only to get my face so red that it looked like a gleaming ripe tomato. Or, to get that adrenaline rush that made my legs numb at the sight of the awaiting crowd and finish line. Slowly, but surely, I improved. I became faster. I started running without needing to stop or take walking breaks. Over the next few years and after countless practices and very many races, I trimmed my 5km time down to a solid 23 minutes 34 seconds. I realized that running, like life, came down to persevering, putting mind over matter, and finding the right pace.Each year is like a race. Last year, I thought valiantly to myself, 2011 is going to be a great year. It’s going to be my year, my race. With a strong finish to the Fall semester of 2010 and an out-of-state, or off-island, vacation awaiting me at the finish line, I rushed into 2011 at a sprint. Needless to say, it wasn’t everything I’d predicted not to mention, everything I’d hoped for. My hasty beginning left me winded. It led me to struggle yet again between brisk walks, quick spurts, and sluggish jogs.  But it was, without a doubt in my mind, monumental. 2011 was a year of many; 2011 was when my blog started getting more recognition from those around me, I got promoted to a job that highlights my strengths and strengthens my weaknesses, I went through a heartwrenching break up that eventually unfolded into a rare, once-in-a-lifetime kind of friendship, I moved into a new apartment with 23… I mean, 4 fun-loving & amazing roommates, I ditched school religiously, I had my share of “drama,” I found love (which I’m admittedly still learning to accept) in what literally was a hopeless place, I quit my 3-year hostessing job at the same restaurant, I worked full-time in high-end, luxury retail, I moved again, I graduated with honors (miraculously), and then – for the first time in 4 years – I returned to Korea and was briefly reunited with my family. It was the race in which I stopped and stalled, time and time again. I even took a number of short-cuts and detours that only resulted in my delayed arrival at the finish line. I persevered, but crawled like a beginner, gasping and panting, to the end of 2011. Continue reading

A Hop, Skip, and a Dinner Party.

Let me introduce you to a couple of my dearest friends: Kasha and Nicole (unfortunately Joanne is in California and wasn’t physically able to be with us – IheartyouJO). Now, I don’t even know where to begin telling you about these leading ladies of mine. I don’t think I could quite do them justice with words alone. They saved me from being a high school outcast when I first moved solo to this island. You know that scene in Mean Girls where Lindsay Lohan is new and eats lunch alone in the bathroom, thanks to a lack of friends? Yeah, that girl was me! Fortunately, these two girls + Joanne extended their hand out in friendship (or in pity) to little ol’ me.

Cabbage, Apple, Walnut Salad

They rescued me from being trampled upon by the harmful high school herd and saved me from the biting cold of potential ostracism and loneliness. I couldn’t be more grateful. Actually they couldn’t be more grateful – their stomachs, to say the very very least. Continue reading

Good Things Come in Threes.

They really do, don’t they? Think about how many things, good things, tend to come in threes. Let’s see..there are three primary colors, the Lord of the Rings trilogy, the Twilight series (for all you crazed fans out there), the three Musketeers, the three wise men, the Chipmunks, the Jonas Brothers (not really, but I like to joke every now and then) and of course, presumably three meals a day, correct? I love the number three and with the  Holy Trinity of this dish being chicken, asparagus, and pasta – my unreasonable love for this inanimate number is only reaffirmed.  “Why?” You might wonder to yourself. Because three central things: chicken, asparagus, and pasta combined make one hell of a good thing.

Heck, that hell of a good thing brought forth three other good things. One, I got to cook something new. Two, I saved money by eating at home. And voilà! Three, I get to pass on the goodness to you! Don’t worry, you can thank me later and yeah, I’m sure that it’s a total coincidence that your favorite number magically happens to be three now too.

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Oven-Fried Chicken.


When I saw this recipe by Ina Garten, I instantly knew that this had to be the next meal I make for three reasons. One, I had a quart or so of buttermilk in my fridge that was quickly nearing the end of its shelf-life. Two, I really like fried chicken. Three, it’s Ina Garten – enough said.

While I can’t say I don’t like KFC (because I’m bad and I actually really really do), this oven-fried chicken surpasses that of Kentucky any day (my apologies, Kernel Sanders). But surely I’m not alone in this love affair with fried chicken, albeit regulated and restricted to some reasonably understandable degree. If you hadn’t already noticed – which unless you are a first time reader (Welcome!), I don’t know how you wouldn’t know – I have an embarrassingly long list of weaknesses in regards to junk food. I most definitely need to curtail the junk-eating and cut the list  down to one page, or a side of a page. Hopefully, down to half a  page in the near future. But, until then, let’s happily continue on with this confabulation about fried chicken.
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Rockin’ the Moroccan.

Yes, I’m beginning to venture out of my comfort zone and delve deeper and deeper into the unknown. I feel like a little child constantly excited and exhilarated by the seemingly simple aspects of everyday life. For example, spices. We use different spices for baking and cooking all the time and yet, it never ceases to fascinate me. Add a little bit of, let’s see..cinnamon for example, and you have a very unique and distinguished kind of flavor.  I especially love how just one spice can embody a culture so completely different from another. Believe me, I’m no where near being an adept baker, cook, anthropologist – whatever, but as I’ve mentioned time and time again, I’m learning more and more each and every passing day.

What I learned on this day making this dish was how humbling cooking can be. To think that I may know a lot about baking or cooking or about food in general is a horrible and ridiculous assumption because what I know comes solely from empirical research and observation with maybe a tiny crazy bit of help from food blogs and shows that are always on the visible computer or television screens within my home. Even with this Moroccan-themed dinner, I’ve only feebly scratched the concentrated surface of what there is to discover about Moroccan food and culture.

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