Comunidad Health Foods

In order to make this fantastic dessert, you will need: champagne, chocolate, and a long red carpet to roll out when you present it to your naive party guests. My abysmally-lit photographs won't be winning any Oscars tonight, but this dessert should. This is because this chocolate sauce is, quite simply, the bomb. And if you know me, words such as those are entirely uncharacteristic of me, which means it really has to be that good. I'm sure that most people, if they're attending or hosting an Oscar party, already know what elegant (or not) food they want to make, so I don't expect anyone to rush out and change their plans. However, if you chose to do that after hearing about this precious gem...well, I certainly wouldn't blame you.

I want to let you in on a little secret before you do anything drastic, though: this is a perfect leftover recipe. As in, tomorrow, post-Oscars, if you find yourself with some leftover champagne? Maybe it went flat from sitting out for too long? Perhaps it's a little presumptuous to assume that there would be any leftover champagne in the first place, but I urge you to save just a little bit of it for this exact purpose. So, there's leftover champagne, and instead of drinking it, you put it in a sauce pan. And you heat it up, and then mix it with some cocoa powder. Then you add things like sugar and a little bit of butter, and stir them all together to form this warm, insanely rich chocolate liquid with a strong taste of champagne permeating throughout. And since you're making it after your Oscar party, you don't have to share it with anyone else, which might just be the best part of all.

If you're insane, you will let it "set" in the fridge for a little bit and then eat it straight. If you're even remotely sane still, it will be way too intense on its own for you, in which case I have several suggestions: serve it over ice cream (vanilla is wonderful but I tried it with some black raspberry swirl frozen yogurt and think I went to heaven in that moment), sandwich it between two pieces of bread and toast it, keep it warm and use it as a chocolate fondue for fruits and cubes of pound cake, just pour it over cake in general...I mean, do something with it, because it's one of the most uniquely indulgent combinations of flavors I've tasted in a long time. I had intended for it to be a thick mousse, but as it never actually thickened (go figure based on the ingredients), it's more of a sauce, and that's perfectly fine by me. The bottom line is that whatever consistency this champagne and chocolate combination comes to you in, you will not complain. I promise.

These aren't typically sugar cookies that you'd decorate, which I knew going into it, but I still wanted to try them and figured I could at least tackle the art of flooding a cookie, if not work on the actual design technique.

Now, the title says they're whole wheat. They're not. Mine were, because that's the only flour we had in the house (shocking, really), and I just figured, why not? It really produces a beautifully colored cookie - a beige or tan, very light brown and just slightly golden disc of crackly-topped cookie goodness. It does look fantastic, and I think even better than it would with all purpose flour, and it still makes the house smell like heaven. But, as anyone who has baked a cookie knows, whole wheat flour is a little...domineering, isn't it? It's very brusque and loud, unwilling to let its present go unnoticed by, well, anyone. Because of this, you bite into this cookie, and you know. It's chewier, it's nuttier, it's a little denser. It has a very whole wheat quality to it, sans doute. Now, once I flooded the top with royal icing, I found these to be tremendously addicting, as did everyone who tasted them (ignore the fact that about 98% of the taste testers were fellow nutrition majors...). I don't know that I would encourage you to use all whole wheat if you don't plan to use them as, say, a sandwiched cookie, or iced, or something that involves the addition of a very sweet spread. But if you do plan to make them with an added indulgence dolloped on top, go for the whole wheat - it's a very nice contrast. Alternatively, you could do white whole wheat flour or whole wheat pastry flour (or a combo of white and whole wheat) to get a less in-your-face product, but really, I don't know that all that is necessary.

So, we've established that these cookies were delicious when I flooded them with icing, which must mean that my first attempt at flooding was a brilliant success, right? Ha! Oh, how assuming we are. Flooding those belligerent cookies was one of the least rewarding, most torturous culinary experiences of my life. First, and this is all because of the cookie I chose, that beautifully crackled top that I mentioned earlier made it a real pain to get the icing into every nook and cranny for a smooth, consistent finish. Second, I'm pretty sure I didn't thin the icing out enough, because it was extremely labor intensive to get it to actually flood. Third, I don't have adequate work surfaces, so I spent the better part of 2 hours bent in half over my kitchen table, trying desperately to get these cookies finished. And last but not least, I must have cut the most bizarre hole in my ziplock bag for piping, because that icing was just clambering out. I had dried up royal icing everywhere - my shirt sleeves, the table, other cookies, the towels I was working on, the counters - everywhere.

But I did it! Although I couldn't stand up straight for the rest of the night (and, I think, cracked every vertebra in my spine when I finally did straighten out), and although these will win me no professional cookie-decorating contest, I flooded my first batch of cookies! AND they didn't get thrown in the trash. Besides, it's only February, right? I still have plenty of time to master this art! Now all I need is another excuse to whip up a batch for more practice...maybe L's roommates could use a little sugary snack when I go to visit next week...and what's the next holiday, St. Patty's Day?

Forget baking cakes, Floptimism's about to go All Cookies, All the Time! (What about cookies for breakfast? Yes? No? Too much?)

Chewy Whole Wheat (or not!) Sugar Cookies, courtesy of Food Network

Any meal ending in parmesan is, I think, worthy of being in the "best foods ever created" category, if for no reason other than smothering anything in tomato sauce and gooey cheese is enough to incite drooling in even the most corpulent of Americans, full from the biggest, baddest Thanksgiving meal ever. You just can't beat that combination. It's because of this that whenever I go to an Italian restaurant or pizza-y joint, the insert-vegetable-or-meat-here parmesan calls to me. But then I almost always order something else. Why? What I get placed in front of me is always disappointing: you could have put dog poop under all that breading, sauce, and cheese, and we'd all eat it, happy as clams and so tragically ignorant of the truth. This is especially true with eggplant parmesan. Yes, what makes these parmesan dishes so fantastic is the fact that they're drenched in sauce and cheese, and the somewhat bland vehicle certainly takes a backseat to those two indulgences. But I still want to taste something, you know?

I tend to prefer my eggplant parmesan un-breaded for this reason. When you take that coat of breadcrumbs off, you can let the eggplant shine in a way that most parmesan recipes don't. That's why, when I had some extra eggplant sitting around a while ago, I decided to try my hand at the meal that restaurants tempt me with so often, but that I know will only lead to heart break. Or heart attack.

This recipe, loosely based off one from $5 Dinners, is absolute perfection. You can tell that beneath the generous layers of sauce and cheese, yes, there is eggplant there, and not just some mystery substance. The rosemary in particular allows the dish to come alive, and there was something in that pan that night that gave a slightly fermented taste (in a good way, of course) to the dish as a whole. Maybe it was the rosemary mixed with some eggplant juice or oil. I'm no food expert. But whatever was going on in my saute pan? It was good. Really good.

I love breakfast food. I could (and often do) find myself craving something designated "for breakfast" throughout the entire day. I like to think that it's a twisted form of the Russian within me. I've heard that in Russia, there's no actual designated "breakfast foods" (this is where the twisted form of Russian comes in); rather, they just eat whatever they want, essentially. It's interesting to see how different breakfast can be cross-culturally, and I think it's refreshing to see a culture that acknowledges the arbitrary nature of time-specific recipes. Just as they might have, I don't know, beet salad and vodka for breakfast (I may be way off here, but you get the gist - they aren't eating cereal simply because it's morning and that's what you do), I find myself wanting to have pancakes for dinner and cereal for lunch. It's fun to turn food conventionality on its head sometimes. Kind of like eating dessert first, but that's a whole other topic...

Because of all of this, every so often I plan breakfast for dinner. A little while back, I did this with pancakes. Now, I don't know about you, but I was raised an Aunt Jemima girl. Those pancakes are tres bien, and as they are among the few processed, packaged mixes of any kind of food that I can still eat, it somewhat pains me to leave Aunt Jemima behind in search of my own, from-scratch version. But, being that I can't leave things well alone, search I do. This journey becomes increasingly disheartening each and every time I try a recipe and discover that it, well....sucks. I am becoming ever more frightened that I am incapable of making a from-scratch pancake as good as dear old Aunt Jemima.

These pancakes are not bad. They don't burn or have any kind of off flavors. They do taste like pancakes, and they turn a relatively acceptable color. The problem that I have with them is that they are quite literally, as flat as a pancake. And I like my pancakes very un-pancake like in that regard: fluff is key. I like restaurant pancakes that come out as big as your plate and as thick as, well, a thick and fluffy pancake. Maybe I did something incorrectly and this recipe isn't supposed to yield surprisingly thin pancakes, but I have too many pancake recipes to try to give any one of them a second chance. One strike, you're out, and I move on, determined to find my Aunt Jemima equivalent.

Because I didn't approve of the pancakes, and because I didn't change a darn thing about the recipe (to my knowledge), I'm just going to direct you to 2 Make Ends Meet, where you can find the original post. It's entirely possible that I did something careless, since her pictures look adequately fluffy, and it's also entirely possible that there are readers out there who would really enjoy a thinner pancake. They did have a nice flavor to them. So, don't be discouraged by what this jaded pancake critic has to say, at least not without checking it out yourself.

Still, the fruit and yogurt puree I threw together with it was pretty good, if not a little pungent from an accidental overload on the extracts I used. I will definitely use greek yogurt next time to thicken it a little, but overall, it was very nice.

First of all, some housekeeping: before I say anything, I have to apologize for disappearing for so long. L was in for the weekend and what kind of Valentine would I be if I left him to his own devices while I wrote to you guys for an hour? Not the worst, for sure, but I decided against it, anyway. He thanks you for your understanding. Second, I got an unexpected Valentine's Weekend Surprise of being awarded my very first blog award! The Food Hound, a witty and engaging food blogger who took notice of Floptimism when I was seriously doubting that anyone actually read my ramblings, picked me (and 15 other people, shh!) for her Stylish Blog Award! technically I'm supposed to pass this one and do a whole bunch of stuff, but I think I'll pass because (a) it's been a long day and a longer weekend, and I'm a bit beat (b) I don't actually interact with many food bloggers; I really just admire from afar, and I tend to gush about those blogs every time I tell you about one of their recipes (c) yes, I'm one of those stinkers who reads chain emails and then just hits delete, no matter how many wishes they prove to grant if you pass it on. But I nonetheless appreciate it, and as I told her via a lengthy comment to her post: Food Hound, if I weren't such a party pooper, you would be at the top of my Stylish Food Blog Award list.

Now, onto the food! You have to say the name of this dish with a bounce in your voice. Go on, try it - I like to think it's fairly reminiscent of Dr. Suess himself, not that I'm tooting my own horn at all. This recipe is technically not of my own doing, but I did spiffy it up a little bit with tons of veggies and even some chicken to make you feel less guilty for making a meal out of globs of cheese and carbs, even if you do use the complex, whole wheat variety as I did. This pasta dish is really good - I know this because in my notes I wrote that phrase in all capitals. It's cheesy and creamy, with a fresh crunch from essentially flash-cooked veggies. It's filling and satisfying, and, yes, it meets all of my standard requirements for a keeper meal that I repeat virtually every recipe: it's versatile enough that I can throw in whatever I have on hand, it's a fast meal so I can walk in at 6:00 and be eating by 6:30, and it just tastes good. The only thing it really doesn't have going for it is the amount of dishes it dirties, but I wouldn't let that stop you.

The original recipe is called "No Bake Mac-n-Cheese" and the headline of the article containing it is titled, "All-natural, healthy creamy mac & cheese in 25 minutes." For a while I teeter-tottered back and forth between agreeing with this "health claim" and not - it's certainly a trimmed down version of the Classic American Comfort Food, and the changes I made to it definitely up the nutrition factor, but...I dunno, it's still mac-n-cheese. In the end, though, once you see this recipe I think you'll agree that there's not too much to criticize about this recipe (unless, of course, you want the uber-heavy, loaded-down-with-cheese traditional form of mac).

Tonight's post is a very special one. It's very convenient that I am writing to you about a deliciously decadent and ridiculously easy and satisfying to make chocolate cake on the eve of Valentine's Weekend (how long can we stretch a holiday out for?), and I do hope that if you're searching for a last minute dessert for The Big Day you find what you're looking for in this recipe...but alas, this is not why I made this cake. L can feel free to enjoy a thawed piece of it when he arrives this weekend, but he, too, is not the reason why I went into a chocolate baking frenzy last weekend. No, I chose to make this cake to celebrate a very different occasion...

...Are you dying of suspense yet? Why, this is my 100th post!!

As soon as I realized my blog was becoming a centenarian (if posts were equivalent to years, I guess - in terms of years Floptimism is still quite the youngster), there was no doubt in my mind that I had to try my hand at a classic chocolate cake. You see, I used to get this crazy-expensive, seven-layer, rich, indulgent, sinfully heavenly chocolate cake from a local deli each year for my birthday (as well as a slice any time I went to the deli for breakfast - don't worry, I saved it for later like a good girl!). After my internal trans-fat ban, and with the knowledge that $45 for a birthday cake is kind of insane, even if it is humongous and would last me for months and months in the freezer, I stopped buying that cake, and have had every intention since then of recreating it in my own kitchen.

This cake is not that cake. Although I haven't yet had it only partially thawed, still chilled, I have my doubts that it is fudgy enough to stand up to that seven layer behemoth I'm used to. This isn't seven layers, at all - it's a modest single layer cake, making it much more fathomable and humble. In fact, humble seems like a great word for this cake - it's unassuming and simple, with a subtle chocolately cake and a richer yet still manageable ganache topping. If I make this again I would increase the chocolate factor by either adding more chocolate or adding in some decaf coffee, which is said to enhance chocolate desserts. Yet, with each successive slice I sit down to enjoy, I find myself loving its understated beauty more and more. This is Ye Olde Faithful Chocolate Cake - aside from maybe the heavy cream and baker's chocolate for the frosting, the ingredients are almost definitely in your kitchen already; they come together in smooth, flowing steps, the cake bakes absolutely beautifully and comes out of the oven to flood the house with the tantalizing smell of chocolate, and as all good cakes should, it only gets better over time (to a certain extent - like I said, I have transferred the remaining slices to the freezer for safer keeping). It's not dense or overwhelming, and in that lack of indulgence I find myself wanting to still search for That Perfect Recipe, but if you're looking for a simple, classic chocolate cake, particularly one for a birthday celebration but certainly for this weekend of romance, I encourage you to try this. I don't think you will regret it.

Also in honor of my 100th post, I thought I would do something to improve the blog itself more than just the appetites of my readers, so I've set up a GoogleDocs account and will now be providing you with printable recipes! I haven't decided if I will include the link on every post, or just the ones whose recipes are not available from other, original sources - but I just had to do it at least for this first one. Enjoy!

Notes: *The original cake was baked in a 24-inch pan, which is a wedding-cake scale pan. I halved the recipe and made a beautiful 9-inch single layer cake, and altered the recipe to reflect this, as I would imagine not many people own the originally-called for 24'inch pan. **Here is where I would add in the coffee to bring out the chocolate flavor, dissolved into the boiling water. ***As per usual, I forgot to bring my butter to room temperature, so I hastily tossed the whole stick into the microwave to soften it. I then not only did not chop it into bits, but added the entire stick instead of 6 tablespoons. Clearly, I will not repeat this, despite perceiving no negative effects in the finished product - especially since using just 6 tablespoons leaves you with the 2 extra you need for the frosting. ****I could only find semi-sweet chocolate squares, and just in case you were curious, I did some research on the amount of sugar it added. It was the equivalent of 1 extra teaspoon, so rather than measure out 1/4 cup + 1 tablespoon + 2 teaspoons of sugar, I made the executive decision that an extra teaspoon from the chocolate was perfectly acceptable. So, feel free to do the same, though if you can find unsweetened you might as well use that.

So there it is, Floptimism's 100th entry! I never would have imagined sticking with this crazy thing for half as long. And now, I must say, it might be about time for this cake to meet the microwave and then, of course, my belly. Happy Early Valentine's Day, everyone - I hope it is enjoyable and sweet, however it is spent!

Today, I am cold. I need to put that out there at the beginning of the post because the chill that has settled over my town and made my apartment's pathetic heat system completely useless is guiding my hand in writing about this deliciously warm casserole (that I wish I had in front of me as we speak). Only this type of weather can evoke the inspiration for a dish that combines two comfort foods into one, after all - which this meal does quite nicely.

I loosely followed a recipe that I found online, but I do emphasize the adverb "loosely." Really, I just took a whole bunch of veggies and a little bit of chicken, and plopped some nice sweet potatoes on top before baking the whole thing into a warm, satisfying perfection. The fact that it was a result of a hodge-podge of ingredients and ideas means that there are some things I would do differently next time. First, I would probably use regular potatoes instead of the sweet potatoes. Along with the carrots, there was just a little bit too much orange beta-carotene for my tastes, and I think the starchier elements of a regular potato would complement the meal much better than the sweet potato did. Also, I would increase the amount of sauce - not because the meal was dry at all, but because the flavors just didn't come through as I had anticipated.

On the whole, though, this Chicken Shepherd's Pot Pie is hands down The Remedy for a bad case of the shivery winter blues. It is warm and filling, with a beautiful balance of veggies, protein, and belly-sticking carbohydrates, it essentially only dirties one pan, a baking dish and a cutting board, and it's basic enough that you can throw in whatever you have in your kitchen and not worry about running out to the store for last minute ingredients.

A little while back I wrote about the meal L and I made as part of my birthday gift: grass fed beef tenderloin served over polenta with a chocolate dipping sauce. I had never worked with polenta before, but since that meal I have been left with a whole pack of it to try to go through. A couple of months ago, I decided to try my hand at the ingredient again, and came up with a fairly satisfying meal: a vegetable and polenta bake. It wasn't a recipe; I just found vegetables and followed instructions I had found online for making the polenta itself. What I came out with was a relatively bland but texturally enjoyable meal; I served it with seasoned chicken, so the lack of flavor from the polenta became much less of an issue. Some parts of the recipe turned out as I had hoped, others...not so much. But I still stand behind the core idea of this recipe, so you get to hear about it, anyway.

After reading pages upon pages of tips for making polenta, I found myself more than just a little intimidated. If you're like me, I encourage you to try it, anyway. The way I'm going to tell you to make it is very easy, and I think it turned out pretty creamy, for not having used any actual cream in the recipe. If you aren't going to serve it with some seriously flavorful alternate dish as I did, or if you like to eat your foods separately (as I don't), I would recommend adding some herbs, maybe some marinara sauce and - dare I say it? - a little pinch of salt. Without the protein aspect, this would make a nice, light meal, but a small side of meat certainly rounds it out nicely. I chose somewhat Spring-oriented vegetables, more or less accidentally, but you could adapt this for any season, I think.

I definitely intend to become better with polenta, getting a little bit more creative and wacky with my recipes. It seems like such a versatile, interesting ingredient to incorporate into recipes, as long as you know what to do with it. Baking it as I did here is only one of many ways to make it, each creating a slightly different texture and offering a slightly different component to the overall meal.

You see, yesterday I was supposed to drive home for the weekend. I had it all worked out - dirty laundry that stacked to about 4 feet high, a bank visit that had to be made before noon today, some serious baking adventures, and even a trip to L's house to pick up some fancy clothes that he didn't bring to school with him, for him to wear next week for our big V-Day restaurant dinner. This was to be an action-packed weekend. But today, as I discovered on Tuesday, was no ordinary Saturday; no, it was the university's Optional Make Up Day. Now, the snow disasters that have been ravaging the east coast have meant that my Biochemistry course has met for a grand total of three out of six classes, meaning we are seriously behind.

Guess who stayed on campus for Saturday school today? I'll give you a hint - it's the same person who didn't do her laundry yesterday or get to the bank before it closed, but did push her serious baking adventure to another day, and chose also to procrastinate going to L's to pick up his things because, by the time she got back to her hometown, all she wanted was a dry pair of sweatpants and her puppy.

And then there was today, which is eerily reminiscent of the book, Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day. Only it was Me and the terrible, horrible, no-good very bad day. I'm talking setting the smoke detector off while making breakfast and waking my roommate up, rushing out of the house without finishing getting ready, almost slipping a bajillion times on the icy sidewalks, trudging through the rain to class, returning to be reprimanded by my roommate (despite apologizing profusely), and then discovering, while standing in the pouring rain, that some blessing to society had decided that I didn't really need my driver's sideview mirror.

Floptimism, indeed. I find that on nights like last night and after mornings like this one, something like that patty melt I made for dinner is the perfect remedy. Food is not the best form of stress management (most dietitians claim that it's actually the worst, ha...), but I do find that sitting down to a really good meal and focusing on that enjoyable experience can help melt away the problems surrounding you, particularly petty ones, as all of mine most definitely were/are. I'm not talking about scarfing down a quart of ice cream in minutes flat while watching sappy love movies and bawling your eyes out. I'm talking about making something or taking a portion of a food that you really enjoy, and savoring it. Sitting in a quiet, potentially empty space, just you and your food of choice, and slowly eating it, focusing just on the flavors and tastes. it's a different way of eating that really promotes appreciation of the food and has a calming effect on your state of being. For me it does, anyway.

I also find that cooking without a recipe can have a similar effect, which I also did in making the patty melt last night. I hadn't planned to be in the apartment last night, so I didn't have anything set aside for dinner. Instead, I pulled out various ingredients from my fridge and freezer, and came up with one of the best sandwiches I have ever tasted. The patty melt itself was good, but nothing out of this world - a honey mustard turkey burger, some bell pepper and spinach, cheddar cheese, and whole grain oatmeal bread. All of those were sitting on my counter when I went back to the fridge and spotted the ingredient that changed it all: hot sauce. The lightbulb went off in my head, I grabbed it, and got to work.

I brushed the one side of each slice of bread with a little bit of olive oil and a decent amount of the hot sauce, and put a little extra hot sauce, cumin, garlic powder and pepper in the middle of the sandwich. I cooked it so that the hot sauce was on the outside and got seared into the bread when I applied pressure to the cooking patty melt, and I can't tell you how incredible that sandwich tasted. The bread developed a smokiness without too much heat, as well as a really beautiful burnt-orange color, and you still got a kick from the "raw" hot sauce in the center. The cheese was melty, the burger itself flavorful in its own right, and the veggies savory and crunchy enough to keep the indulgent-factor in check. I mean really, I'd recommend brushing all grilled sandwich breads or rolls with something like hot sauce - grilled, cheese, paninis, quesadillas. It's such a simple way to elevate your meals to a new level. I'm sure I'm not the first person to ever think to do this, but humor me for the time being, because I'm very excited about this discovery nonetheless.

I also haven't told you about the honey mustard turkey burgers yet, so I included that recipe - I clearly didn't make it especially for this sandwich, and have enjoyed it in many other ways over the past few months. In fact, it's seriously delicious just with some lettuce and tomato. But don't feel like you need this burger to make the sandwich, either - any filling would be great, from a grilled chicken breast to a pile of beans and veggies, or even just straight-up, classic cheese.

Last time we left off with an ode to plain chicken, and the many different split-second wardrobe changes it can make in your freezer over the course of the week/month for easy meals that never get old. So, how about we talk about an example of such an exciting, quick meal that utilizes these pre-cooked chicken recipes? How genius, you say? Well, I'm glad you think so!

Let's get one thing straight: I never liked protein-centered salads very much - you know, egg, tuna, chicken. I honestly just thought they looked a little goopy, sometimes smelled a little funny, and didn't really deliver in the flavor department, unless you like a whole lot of mayo. Which, I don't know, there are weirder things to like. Anyway, what I do like is to make my own chicken salad. I've talked about this twice before, but that was a long time ago.

This Chicken Waldorf Salad is my version of a light, creamy-with-the-occasional-crunch, sweet-yet-savory chicken salad. No mayo in sight, thank you very much. (As a side note, I really don't dislike mayonnaise that much. In fact, I find it pretty tasty. But I don't keep it in the fridge, so therefore I don't use it pretty much ever anymore.) Instead of the mayo, I use any combination of yogurt and sour cream - low or non fat, bien sur. I also throw in some veggies and healthy nuts, topple it over a nice bed of lettuce, and, if I so choose, round it out with some whole wheat pita (though this last part is, of course, not necessary).

I've held off writing about this ever since my neighborhood turned into the new Antarctica, feeling obligated to share heartier casseroles or baked goods with you instead. But I just ate chicken salad last week (not this one - a different one, which is a whole other story not to be delved into at the moment), thus abolishing my own conception that this is a warm weather meal. Au contraire, it's a very nice option for a filling (but not overly-so) meal, any time of year.

Could that be any easier? And it has everything: lean protein, some fruit, some veggies, low/non fat dairy, some fiber and whole grain if you go the pita route. Plus, it's delicious, and that's really what we're after, right?

Tonight's entry is going to be a little bit different. Rather than focusing on a recipe, I have a technique that I've been using as a college student who is often pressed for time, working in a very small (shared) kitchen. As much as I love flavor complexity, I also really appreciate a simple recipe on occasion - especially when it comes to chicken. Chicken breast, like many other "center of the plate" foods (tofu, grains, you name it), is really only ever as good as the ingredients made with it, assuming we're not comparing overdone, dried out chicken breasts to moist, well-cooked ones. By batch cooking using a very simple, understated recipe for chicken, I can freeze all of the extras and have a more or less blank palate for countless quick-fix meals in the future. At the same time, they aren't so bland that you wonder why you even bothered including the chicken in your recipe in the first place.

Although you could think up enough spice, herb and marinade combinations that fit this criteria to try a new one each day for a year, these two are ones that I have tried recently and definitely recommend. The first one is an Italian blend of herbs that adds a touch of flavor while still leaving the chicken versatile enough to through into pretty much any recipe you might stumble upon in the weeks to come. The second is a smokier, paprika-spiced chicken that offers a slightly more intense flavor profile, but can still blend into a lot of various types of recipes. I have used both as stand-alones, as well as in salads, casseroles, and wraps - and not just plain ones, either. I have added sundried tomatoes and pecans to the smokier one, for example, and it worked out wonderfully. Like I said, these "rubs" or coatings are present enough to give the chicken some taste, but subtle enough to not overpower whatever main taste you're going for any given night. You can shred, dice, slice, or leave whole before freezing, adding another option for diversifying your menus without locking yourself in the kitchen for hours on end each night.

Notes: *I like to think that the reason I continue to try to cook fat pieces of chicken in a short amount of time is that I am an incurable optimist. However, I always wind up having to butterfly them to speed the process up and get the middle cooked. So, you could alternatively butterfly the chicken from the very beginning, which would decrease the necessary cooking time and also prevent precious chicken juice from running out halfway through the cooking process.

Now, once the chicken that you are planning to freeze has cooled, at least enough to handle comfortably, prepare it as you would like (shred, dice, etc.), and place in a freezer-safe container. I like to use ziplock bags for shredded chicken and wax paper surrounded by foil for full pieces. Allow the chicken to cool completely before sealing, then pop in the freezer for a quick, easy meal another night!