A Druckin Chicken Stir Fry Experiment

I wish that read a ‘drunken chicken stir fry experiment.’ At least that way, I’d have an excuse.  What is my DEAL?!! I wanted to make the boyfriend a Thai Stir Fry with Peanut Sauce. Upon completion, it tasted exactly like warm, chunky peanut butter — only the ‘chunks’ were broccoli and chicken. EW.

WAAAAAY prettier than mine. And still kind of a dog.

I did exhaustive research! I printed out four recipes! Then I took what I liked about each one and created a MONSTER! This is STIR-FRANKENSTEIN! Is there even any point in sharing the recipe?! Why not; maybe you can tell me what I did wrong. We’ll turn the recipe into a live action sequence. GO!

Herman Munster finds this dish questionable, at best.

I start with 1 Tbs oil in a hot skillet (nobody woks in LA), realizing too late that maybe corn oil isn’t the best idea. Then a teaspoon of freshly grated ginger and minced garlic. Which gets sticky, but won’t stick to the 10 oz. of chicken breast I’d so painstakingly sliced. Already in panic mode. Remove cooked chicken, dump in 3 cups of broccoli. No sizzle. Only silence. Doesn’t look good. Splash some water in the skillet, cover, steam broccoli. Take it out of the pan, put in 4-5 sliced mushrooms. Why won’t they behave like the mushrooms on TV?

Fun guys.

Boyfriend swoops in, still sandy from coaching beach volleyball, and fixes my mushroom problem with a splash of water and a very professional shake of the pan. We put everything back in and toss it with the peanut sauce I’d made in anticipation of this very moment. (1/2 cup PB, 1/2 c warm water, 2 T soy sauce and 2 T brown sugar.)

Apparently, even I can reach maximum peanut butter capacity.

I sprinkle chopped peanuts on top and we plop it on a healthy bed of plain, unsalted brown rice. Talk about a one-note dish. About halfway through his plate, he looks up at me and says, “I think I took too much.”

Next time I may just buy a bottle of Thai Sweet Chilli Sauce:

This terrific Thai food blogger makes her own. Click the pic for the recipe.

I’ll pour it over a block of softened cream cheese and serve it with crackers, alongside vanilla vodka & Diet Coke cocktails. Voila! Dinner is served!

Mother Druckin Smores Bars Oh Yes

This is just a post to remind myself to make these, and/or to request that anyone who has ever loved me (even a little) to make some for me.

Please?

Snicker Druckin Doodles

I made SNICKERDOODLES, y’all! How fun is that just to SAY?!! I feel like a German grandma must’ve created these cookies after calling her grandkinder “Mein Schnickerdoodlen” or something like that. They were a big hit on the beach last weekend and my boyfriend scarfed at least a half dozen before any schnickerdoodlen even left the house.

It almost looks like this cookie is smiling at me...

I did my due diligence and found that there are two basic recipes copied all over the interwebs, and even merge in a few places. It comes down to leavening — cream of tartar and baking soda or just baking powder? And shortening — butter and Crisco or just butter?

For leavening, one ingredient is easier/cheaper than two, am I right? Hellooooo baking powder. Some people say they hate the chemical flavor that baking powder imparts, but I don’t taste it. Dear Dr. Phil, does this mean there’s something wrong with me?!

For shortening, as I have previously stipulated, I’m generally a fan of half butter for flavor, half Imperial margarine for texture. So that’s the direction I went.

Kind of a klassy picture for such a casual blog post.

And besides, I fear the Crisco. My crazy refrigerator that houses an entire glacier in the back once sucked up a tub of Crisco that had been there since the first Dubya administration, never to be seen nor heard from again.

Your dog has a tick? Use Crisco to smother it. Then, bake a pie! Hooray!

When a recipe calls for “shortening,” I generally assume that means Crisco or pork lard, and even though many a great Southern cook scoops solid fat into everything from sky-high biscuits to the flakiest of flaky pie crusts, Crisco (to me) still looks like something you’d use to lube engine parts or spackle your window.

Okay! Now that the great shortening debate is outta the way, ready for your kitchen-tested, Mother Drucker-approved recipe ? Here she is, mein schnickerdoodlen.

10/21/11 edit. Oh. Em. Gee. In researching pumpkin snickerdoodles for another post, I realized that I forgot to put the yield AND the leavening. WHOOPS. If you made these and they fell flat, invoice me and I’ll reimburse you. As for a REAL snickerdoodle recipe, Mrs. Sigg’s Snix seem to be the hottest on the interwebs. Go forth and bake well.

And on a sort of related but not technically germane note, I must make these Martha Stewart snickerdoodle cupcakes with cinnamon cream cheese frosting someday, right?!

Martha, you sly minx. You had me at cinnamon cream cheese.