Take One Apple . . .

Yeppers, that's all it takes -- just one apple to make two of those little mini-cakes. You don't even have to peel the apple if you don't want to (I didn't.) but you do need to grate it up. Or you could use some of that zucchini that seems to be everywhere this time of year -- or a couple of carrots or whatever. Just so you get about a cup of juicy grated stuff. I found the recipe on the Taste of Home web site but I've messed with it a bit so I'll show you what I did here and you can click on the link to see what the author of the original recipe did, okay?

Before we get to the recipe, I need to mention something about eggs. I never did buy into the booga-booga stuff about cholesterol and eggs. Sure, they have cholesterol but, as was pointed out in Prevention magazine way back in the '70s, they also have plenty of lecithin, which emulsifies the cholesterol and fat. Also, the eggs have more of the good cholesterol than the bad . . . and dietary cholesterol is no longer considered such a culprit anyway. Here's a pretty good short article on the subject. I mention this to explain why I added the yolk to the lemon sauce even though it wasn't mentioned in the original recipe. That said, everybody's body works different so you have to march to your drummer, not mine.

Okay, here we go with the little cutie-pie apple cakes with lemon sauce. The batter will be divided up between a couple of small ramekins -- I used two 12-ounce Pyrex dishes that worked fine. I think one could probably even make about 4 cupcakes with this amount of batter.

MINI-APPLE CAKES

2 tablespoons shortening or butter, softened
1/2 cup sugar
1 egg white
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 cup flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1 cup shredded apple
1/4 cup chopped pecans
Mix fat and sugar together until crumbly. Add egg white and vanilla and mix well. Add dry ingredients and mix well again. Batter will be very stiff. Fold in apple and nuts. The moisture in the shredded apple will loosen up the batter a little. Spoon into greased 8- or 10-ounce baking containers. Bake at 325 degrees fairy height for 30 minutes.

If you compare pictures, you see my cake came out a darker brown than the other one. I think that's because I baked mine in the countertop roasting oven and it took twice as long because there is no way the little oven can maintain the kind of heat you get in the big one. No problem. The cakes were just right when I took them out. Nice and moist and nummy. And here's the lemon sauce, which takes only a couple or three minutes in the microwave:

QUICKIE LEMON SAUCE

3 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon corn starch
1/4 cup lemon juice
1 egg yolk
1 1/2 tablespoons butter, cold, cubed

Mix sugar, corn starch and lemon juice together and microwave on high for 1 minute. Whisk, then add a couple spoonfuls of the lemon mixture to the egg yolk and whisk it in to temper the egg. Then whisk the egg mixture back into the lemon mixture and microwave for another minute. Add the little cubes of cold butter and whisk until the butter is melted. If the sauce looks thick enough then, you're done. If not, another minute won't hurt.

In the photo above, you can see the sauce got thicker as it cooled. When I get ready to eat that cake, I'll slip the sauce in the microwave for maybe 30 seconds to make it a bit easier to pour over the cake. Nom, nom, nom!

And it only took one apple . . .

Hugs & Wham Bams

Look! See? I didn't go to hell in that handbasket, I don't care what they told you.

I know. I've been AWOL a turribly long time and I really do apologize. It was just one of those times when, for no discernible reason, sitting down and yapping about what's been happening here seemed -- I dunno -- totally without socially redeeming value. Or something like that. In any case, here I am, with hugs and coffee, trying to get back in your good graces.

Not that I haven't been busy. Seems like there's always something going on to keep me from playing in traffic. Like, fer instance, I have renewed my sporadic interest in crochet this past few weeks. Mom was great at it and so was my sister. Fortunately, youngest dotter Patti learned from them because I never did enough of either crochet or knitting to even have bragging rights. In fact, I had to have Patti give me some tips when I started up again because, come to find out, there were a couple of basic things I've been doing wrong all this time. It worked out well. I learned something new and she got to feel good because she taught me instead of the other way around. Which tickles me plumb fuschia, that's what.

The occasion is the advent of a couple of brand new great-grandbabies. Yeppers. Patti's oldest son is about to become a daddy and her stepdaughter is about to become a mommy and I'm about to welcome great-grandbabies number five and six, by golly. Which led me to think I could crochet a couple of baby afghans for the kidlets. Of course they might be in kindergarten before I finish the project but, hey, my heart's in the right place.

Adventures in the kitchen are always in progress no matter what else is happening. Which is why I just stumbled onto what is apparently a long-time traditional recipe I never knew about before. Like most recipes, there are seemingly infinite variations but the most basic has been reduced to a three-ingredient wham-bam-cook-and-eat. Have y'all tried Cranberry Chicken? Have y'all done it this way? Lay your chicken in a baking dish. Boneless, skinless breasts or thighs work just fine. Mix together one 16 ounce can of whole berry cranberry sauce, one envelope onion soup mix and one cup of (take your pick) Russian, Catalina or French dressing. Pour the mixture over the chicken and bake at 350 degrees fairyheight for 1 hour. Serve with rice.

Okay, I can't tell you how that tastes because I didn't do it that way. The thing is, whenever a recipe calls for a package of this or a can of that, lately I've gone Googling to see if it's something I can make from scratch for cheap -- and with better control over what's actually in it. Or not in it, like assorted chemicals that will keep it from spoiling until about 2917. Found a couple of recipes that worked out really well.

ONION SOUP MIX: Mix together: 1 1/2 cups dried minced onion, 2/3 cup bouillon powder or granules (I used chicken but you can use beef or vegetable), 2/3 cup onion powder, and 1/2 teaspoon sugar. (I did not add the sugar.) Store in airtight container. Four to five tablespoons equals one packet of onion soup mix.

CLEAR FRENCH DRESSING: Blend together: 1 cup olive oil, 4 tablespoons red wine vinegar (I used balsamic vinegar) 4 tablespoons lemon juice, 2 teaspoons sugar, 1 teaspoon each salt, dry mustard and paprika. Dash of cayenne. (Again, I did not add the sugar. As far as I'm concerned, the cranberry sauce had more than enough sugar already. And if I'd made my own from scratch, it would have had less.)

So I mixed the whole cranberry sauce with the dressing and 5 tablespoons of the onion soup mix, poured it over my chicken breasts and baked it. It smelled like heaven as it baked. How did it taste? Oh. My. God. This is one of those dishes that is too good to be legal. (Peering cautiously out the window to see if the Food Police have surrounded the place yet.)

I had it with rice but one cook mentioned layering Stove Top stuffing in the bottom of the baking dish, then adding the chicken and sauce. That sounds like a dandy variation. Another thing to keep in mind is that the sauce would work wonderfully well with turkey or pork. Something I'm going to experiment with is using it with meatloaf, mixed right in with the hamburger.

But don't take my word for the fabulous meal this makes. Wham-bam one up your own self. You'll see.

My Thursday Adventure

Remember how yesterday I threatened to whup up a batch of hot dipping sauce for my pasties? What I had in mind was something along the lines of Asian sweet chili sauce, which I adore, but starring ingredients I had on hand. Like dried cranberries, cranberry juice and a small can of chipotle peppers in adobo sauce. Something that would, by the way, fit comfortably in that cute little apple juice jug I had saved for just such an eventuality. After a great deal of online research, I succeeded in concocting my own twist on assorted recipes and came up with what I considered a winner -- but not without a certain amount of adventure.

The first part of the adventure dealt with the thermal qualities of the chipotle peppers and the adobo sauce -- both of which are considered by the uninitiated to be somewhere between molten lava and the hinges of hell insofar as heat is concerned. The recipes I looked at suggested using just part of a pepper and taking the seeds out. I have never understood the logic of seeding a chili pepper. That's where the heat is, for heaven's sake. What's the point of a chili pepper without heat? I never, never, never seed my chili peppers. I simply use less, then add more in small increments until I reach the heat level I can handle without breaking out the fire extinguisher.

That is, I usually do it that way. Sometimes I throw caution to the winds, laugh in the face of danger and toss the whole durned pepper in, guts, feathers and all. Today was one of those reckless times ... and the pepper was not one of the smaller ones. Nor was the tablespoon of adobo sauce anything like "scant." A preliminary taste test alerted me to that error in judgement. Once I put out the flames and wiped my eyes, I immediately added another cup of cranberry juice to dilute the Scoville factor to acceptable levels.

The next adventure came when it was time to run the sauce through the blender to puree everything down to relative liquidity. I usually shove the lid securely into the top of the blender but today I just set it on top, one hand lightly holding it in place. Don't ask me why. I have no clue. Then I punched the button for the Chainsaw Massacre setting (puree for those of you without such a macho blender).

Hooboy! The powerful torque blew the liquid straight up, lifting the lid completly away from the blender. Before I could slam it back down, I had very hot sauce splashed on my wrist, my watch, my sweatshirt and liberally sprinkled across the neighboring microwave, chopper and roasting oven. Nice move, Dee. (Note to self: always batten down hatches when using blender.)

Okay, I didn't lose all that much sauce in the blender debacle. It just seemed that way while I was mopping it up. I poured some of the sauce into a shallow bowl and put the rest in the apple juice bottle (see above). Then I nuked the other half of yesterday's pasty and sat down to put the sauce to the critical test.

Dip. Bite. Munch. Dip. Bite. Munch. Let eyes widen in appreciation. Moan with pleasure. Not with pain. The heat level is not painful. Although it is hot enough to make my nose run. Blow nose. Continue to dip, bite, munch until pasty is history. Lick fingers. Smile.

The recipe follows. You may, of course, adjust the amounts of the chipotle and adobo to suit your own preferences. By the way, this is not a thick sauce and would lend itself very well to basting roasted or grilled meats. But if you prefer thick, simply put it back in the saucepan after running it through the blender. Bring to a boil and add about a tablespoon of corn starch that's been dissolved in a couple of tablespoons of cold water. Stir until sauce thickens. Remove from heat.

DEE'S SUPER DUPER
CRANBERRY/CHIPOTLE DIPPING SAUCE
AND WORM KILLER

1 tablespoon adobo sauce
1 chipotle pepper, minced
1 cup dried cranberries
1/4 cup whisky (or bourbon or rum)
1/4 cup lemon juice
2 cups cranberry juice

Put all ingredients in sauce pan. Bring to a boil, turn down to simmer, cover with lid and simmer for 15 minutes. Turn off heat and let sit another 15 minutes. Run through blender on the puree setting. Can be served hot or cold. Will keep a looooong time in refrigerator.

A note on the booze: Triple Sec would be good here, as the orange flavor always goes great with cranberry. But you don't have to use alcohol. Pretty much any fruit juice will work fine. Or just skip that quarter cup of liquid. Won't hurt a thing.

Just for the record, I was only kidding about the worm killer thing. Honest. On the other hand, I certainly don't have worms.

More Enchilada Magic

You can really appreciate the generosity of digital camera technology in a situation like the one that produced the above photo. That's because it took me about a squillion attempts to get a meager few decent shots of wave action against the rocks the other day. I guaran-damn-tee ya, there wouldn't have been anywhere near that many attempts had I been restricted to conventional film!

That photo op came about on Wednesday. I was blessed with an unexpected visit from my brother for a few days and, on that particular day, we went down to the dock in Port Orford for a bit before meeting niece Wendi and having a fabulous pizza made by grandson Albert at the cafe where he works. While Merle was over on the east side of the dock taking pictures of some kind of rigging or other, I was on the west side taking pictures of rocks and surf and kelp and seagulls. This particular shot was the result of focusing in on one area of a channel between the jetty rocks and trying to capture the exact moment the incoming waves would demonstrate their most impressive explosions against immovable surfaces. Timing was everything. Split-second failures were plentiful. The nice thing about it is, with surf pictures, even the failures are fun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On another note entirely, I just happen to have an alternate enchilada sauce recipe to share with you. It is, I think, just as good as the one I gave you in a previous post, which makes it impossible for me to choose a favorite. I think determining which one to make in the future will depend a lot on what ingredients I have on hand and maybe even how much I need. While the other recipe made about 4 cups of sauce, this one makes 2 -- although you could certainly double it if you needed to.

I found it at a wonderful food site produced by Rockin Robin. There is so much good information and so many good recipes, you'll just have to bookmark her. I'm sure you'll want to read her instructions for the Raving Enchilada Sauce because I sorta-kinda fiddled with it a bit. Turned it into a microwave recipe, is what I did. Five minutes. Here's how I did it:

MICROWAVE VERSION RAVING ENCHILADA SAUCE

In a 1-quart microwave-safe bowl, mix together:

4 tablespoons chili powder
1 teaspoon ground cumin
2 teaspoons garlic powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 pinch ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon sugar
5 tablespoons allpurpose flour

Using a wire whisk, blend the dry ingredients evenly to prevent lumpy sauce. Gradually pour in 2 cups chicken broth, whisking all the while, until mixture is well blended. Microwave on high for 2 minutes. Whisk vigorously, nuke 1 minute. Whisk again, nuke another minute. Whisk and nuke a final minute, 5 minutes in all. Give it a finishing whisk and it's ready to use.

Okay, the sauce is so easy and quick, it's almost magical. But maybe you're not in the mood to fill and roll all those enchiladas, eh? I certainly wasn't -- which is why I finally surrendered and fixed 'em layered style, like Mexican lasagna. Holy jalapeno, Batman! Not only does the enchilada stack taste exactly as wonderful as the rolled-up version, the only thing you lose is the muss and the fuss.

For my purposes, a medium-sized square casserole dish worked fine and the corn tortillas fit the space perfectly. Pour in a little sauce, flop a tortilla into it, then start laying on whatever you want for filling. Pre-cooked seasoned meats like chicken, pulled pork, hamburger -- whatever. I used bite-sized bits of chicken that I quickly fried with salt, pepper and a sprinkle of liquid smoke. You can sprinkle on chopped onion, sweet or hot peppers, chopped olives or anything else that strikes your fancy. Then a sprinkle of shredded cheese, a drizzle of sauce and another tortilla. Repeat layers until you're out of filling ingredients, top off with final tortilla and a generous drizzle of sauce and a decorative sprinkle of shredded cheese. Bake at 375 degrees for 30 minutes.

To serve, I just cut the stack into 4 wedges, pie-style. Additional glops of sour cream or guacamole or salsa are optional. Bliss is unavoidable.

Inventing Hogmanay Traditions

I've been reading up on Hogmanay. It's about time, given that I'm mainly Scottish and Hogmanay is a uniquely Scottish celebration. Hogmanay is, is fact, the Scots word designating the last day of the year and the celebration extends into Ne'erday, a contraction for New Year Day. In other words, the Scots have their own take on doing the turn of the year celebrations, involving fireworks and music and lots of adult beverages and food and merriment. There is "first-footing" and gift giving and swinging fire balls and all kinds of wonderful stuff. Makes dropping the ball in Times Square look kind of tame.

I won't be swinging any fire balls but I decided, in honor of the occasion, I would institute a new food tradition in my household. After careful thought and particular attention to the muted growling from my tummy, I decided the perfect Hogmany dish would be -- tah dah! -- chicken enchiladas!

Okay. Enchiladas are not ordinarily associated with things Scottish, I'll admit that. If I used some Scotch Bonnet chili peppers in them, I might be stretching the connection hard enough to fit. Or if I could find my tape of bagpipe music, I could play that while eating the enchiladas. It only takes a little imagination to Scotchify this south-of-the-border dish. Not too much imagination, though. I did have a brief vision of haggis-stuffed enchiladas but decided that was a bit too advanced for my brand new tradition.

Anyway, the recipe I want to share with you is not for the enchiladas, per se, but for the enchilada sauce. This is tweaked from a recipe I found at Recipezaar. If you go there and type 109685 in the Search box at the top of the page, you'll be taken to the original recipe, which we're told comes from a woman who was born and raised in Mexico City. I figure that gives it the chops for authenticity, don't you?

My version netted me around 5 cups of sauce, which was 2 cups more than I needed. Not a problem -- I just poured the remainder in a quart canning jar and popped it in the freezer for later use. And this am da way it goes ...

HOMEMADE GEN-YOU-WINE ENCHILADA SAUCE

In medium-sized sauce pan, combine:
3 tablespoons chili powder
3-4 tablespoons flour (I used 4)
1 teaspoon cocoa powder
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon oregano
1 teaspoon cumin

Measure out 3 cups water. Pour in enough to make a sloppy paste. Set pan on medium heat, slowly add the rest of the water, stirring constantly. Keep stirring until mixture thickens. ("Thicken" is a relative term. It would coat the spoon but wasn't as thick as, say, gravy.) Add 8 ounce can of tomato sauce, stir in and remove from heat. Cover with lid until ready to use.

A note about the tomato sauce ... I only had a 6 ounce can of tomato paste. What I did was, I scooped the paste into a 2-cup measuring cup, added 2 cans-worth of water and a half-teaspoon of sugar to cut the acid and stirred it well. That gave me almost 2 cups of sauce, twice as much as needed for the recipe. However, we're told measurements for this recipe can be very flexible so I just used the whole 2 cups. Worked just fine.

No matter how creative you get with this sauce, don't leave out the cocoa! That's the secret ingredient. Very important.

As for the enchiladas, you can pretty much stuff them with whatever you happen to fancy. I poached a chicken breast in chicken broth and then shredded it with a fork. It's amazing how far a single chicken breast will go when it's been soundly forked. Then I tossed the chicken with about half a finely minced sweet onion, a couple of tablespoons of finely minced canned jalapeno peppers and about a cup of cottage cheese. This made enough stuffing for 8 enchiladas, with enough left over for me to eat like a salad as a reward once I got the goodies in the oven.

Ladle some of your sauce in a baking dish, soften your corn tortillas, 2 at a time, for 30 seconds in the microwave. Drag each tortilla through the sauce and plop some stuffing in the middle. Roll it up and place it in the baking dish. (You can use a dinner plate for the stuffing and rolling but I find it easier to just work right in the baking dish. You'll build the last enchiladas right on top of the ones you've already placed.)

Once they're all tucked in, pour sauce all over everything, sprinkle shredded cheese over the top and put in a 350 degree oven for 25 to 30 minutes.

I'll tell you what ... as far as brand new traditions go, I think this one is a keeper. And who knows? Maybe one of these fine Hogmanays, I'll be brave enough -- or senile enough -- to actually do the haggis-stuffed enchilada.

Oh! Dear Coffee Mates -- have a fantastic Hogmanay and an even better Ne'erday!

Humbled by Excess

HEAD SYBARITE REPORTING FROM DECADENCE CENTRAL: This, Coffee Mates, is what happens when you get carried away and forget to moderate your immoderate behavior. That breathtaking pie in the above photo is the banana cream pie I mentioned in last night's post. It really should have been topped with whipped cream but all I had handy was a partial tub of Cool Whip that had been lurking in the freezer for months. It tasted somewhat flat and greasy and there was no way I was going to sully a perfectly good pie with something like that. (Radiating Huffy and Self-righteous.) No. A different topping entirely was surely required. Which is why I hunted down a recipe for hot fudge sauce and used that as topping.

I went too far.

Separately, each component of the above semi-masterpiece was wonderful. Really. Up to a certain point, the combination of components worked in a grand complementary chorus that added dimension to the whole. Until I added the choccy topping. Never thought I'd say this but, truthfully, the topping was -- uhmm -- over the top. Mae West assured us there was no such thing as "too much of a good thing." She was wrong. Darn it.

With that caveat, I will share the recipes for each of the aforementioned components. It is up to you to maintain the self-discipline to use the hot fudge topping on ice cream, where it belongs.

Have you ever been in the mood for a pie but just didn't feel in the mood to mess with the muss and fuss of a crust? Yeah, me too. Which is why I decided to go for a shortbread crust that went directly from mixing bowl to pie pan and could be patted into place. It goes like this:

SHORTBREAD PIE CRUST

1 cup flour
1/4 cup powdered sugar
1/3 cup ground nuts
1/2 cup butter, melted and cooled
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 teaspoon salt

Mix dry ingredients together. (For nuts, I used honey-roasted cashews with sesame seeds. Just drop your choice of nuts in a blender and pulse them until they're the texture of corn meal.) Add butter and vanilla and mix until dough gathers together and cleans the sides of the bowl. Drop into lightly buttered pie pan and press into place as evenly as possible. Prick crust with fork and chill in freezer for 15 minutes or refrigerator for a 1/2 hour. This will keep the crust from poofing up so you don't have to blind bake it. Bake in 350 degree oven for 15 to 20 minutes or until it becomes golden brown. Let cool before filling. This is how it will look when you're done.

Okay, next step is the filling. Something easy and quick but high in the delicious factor. For that, I would urge you to click over to the BellaOnline site where Karen Hancock has an outstanding recipe for microwave cream pie along with some of the several variations possible -- including the banana version I did. I only had to use two bananas, chopped and tossed with lemon juice, to fold into the filling. Oh -- it only took 3 minutes to cook the filling (I boiled the milk on the stove.) and I gave it a good whisking at the end of each minute.

Okay. Pie crust -- check. Filling -- check. Topping -- ahhhh. I really believe this project would have been rendered a complete success had I used a light, fresh whipped cream topping. But, nooooo, I had to commit a chocolate felony. Ah well. At least I did end up with a most excellent recipe for fudge topping. And here it is:

MICROWAVE HOT FUDGE SAUCE

1/2 cup sugar
2 tablespoons baking cocoa
1 1/2 tablespoons corn starch
1/2 cup cold brewed coffee
2 tablespoons butter
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Mix dry ingredients together, then whisk in coffee. (You can use water or, for a richer sauce, milk or cream.) Microwave 1 minute, whisk well, microwave 1 minute more. The sauce should be nicely thickening now. Whisk in the butter and microwave another 30 seconds. If it's now the degree of thickness you want, add the vanilla, whisk and serve. (The original recipe specified "2 to 4 minutes" cooking time. Your mileage may vary.)

After I made the sauce (which is every bit as good as it looks), I let it cool while I sipped a mug of coffee. Then I pulled the pie out of the refrigerator and slathered the fudge sauce on top, trying not to moan with anticipation. Then I chopped up a handful of the candied pecans and artfully scattered them over everything. What followed was a dutiful photographic session, cutting the first slice out of the pie and sitting down with a fork and a healthy degree of lust.

Well, it's delicious and scrumptious and ... and ... awesomely, overwhelmingly rich. See where I stopped to take the last photo? That's also where I stopped eating. Could not bring myself to take another bite. I have been blissed out and brought to my knees. Later tonight, I'm sure I can work up enough appetite to finish it off. And I've learned a valuable lesson.

Hot fudge topping is not for cream pies. It is for ice cream or for body painting.

Wolf in the Hen House

I can only sigh when I look wistfully at that photo. What you see there is currently residing in my very happy tummy and I wish I'd made twice as much. At least.

Wolfie started it. When I dropped in at her place this morning, she was sharing a most excellent recipe with us and if you hit that link, you'll be able to see why Manning, her fireman friend, has won well-deserved fame for his most excellent chicken hot bites.

Now, I didn't have the particular kind of hot sauce Wolfie mentioned but I have some perfectly wonderful Trader Joe's Jalapeno Hot Sauce that, as far as I can tell, worked super-good. So I cut up one breast of chicken (should have done two), shook enough hot sauce over the chicken so that each piece was well coated, then put a lid on the bowl and left it in the fridge for two or three hours.

I don't know what the fish fry batter mix is like but I suspect it's similar to the tempura batter I learned to make years ago, from my Japanese sister-in-law, Betty. If you'll forgive the alliteration, I've never found a better beer batter. Here's all you have to do:

BETTY'S BETTER BEER BATTER
In a small bowl, combine equal parts all purpose flour and corn starch. Add seasoning to taste. I usually use salt, pepper and either garlic powder or onion powder. You can also add just about any kind of spice or herb that seems to fit the occasion. It's your call. Stir all the dry ingredients together well, then crack in one egg and a little bit of beer. Start mixing with a whisk, adding beer as necessary, until you have something the consistency of pancake batter. Not too thick, or you'll end up with yucky, doughy fried food. Not too thin or most of it will run off the food. You don't have to whisk all the lumps out of the batter, surprisingly enough. But you can if you want to. Unless you're making an awful lot of batter, you'll have most of that can or bottle of beer left. That's nice to sip on while you're frying all that tempura over a hot pan of oil.

As you can see, this is a highly flexible recipe. The only hard and fast measurement is the single egg. Just so you'll know, the batter I made today started with 1/3 cup each of flour and corn starch. I knew I wouldn't need much batter but felt that was the least amount I could get by with to balance out the egg. I used Blue Heron pale ale instead of beer and the result was great. There again, use your own judgment. Follow your bliss.

By the way, I'm always reading that one should use room temperature, flat beer for cooking. I don't worry about that. If the beer needs to be warm, I'll nuke it briefly and call it good. Otherwise, it gets used cold and fresh -- which makes for pleasanter sipping of whatever is left over, don'cha know?

I don't know how many pieces of chicken I had. Maybe a couple dozen. Didn't take long to fry them up to golden brown and drain on a paper towel. Then I sat down with the chicken hot bites and a bowl of lemon curd for dipping and figured I'd nibble on, ohhhh -- six or eight, give or take a couple.

Oh my. It was magic. The way every single chicken bite simply vanished. It's not the sort of thing you can stop eating before it's all gone, that's all there is to it. If you make it to share with others, all I can say is you need to get your portion out of the platter right off the git-go and be prepared to guard your plate with weapons of immediate and painful destruction.

Wolfie, thank you for sharing the recipe and please give Manning a grateful hug from me next time you see him. Just so you know, you can hang out at my hen house any time.