Sunday 12 August 2012

Day 94: Spiced chicken open sandwich


For me, there’s only one true sign that Dear Husband is sick and that’s if he has lost his appetite. The poor thing; his brain wants to eat but his stomach won’t let him. It doesn’t happen that often (believe me!) but as I rhymed out possible recipes for today’s menu, let’s just say I couldn’t continue with the list. Without going into too much detail, it was well on this evening before Dear Husband could fathom the thought of food. Dinner for Baby Daughter, Dear Son and me was straightforward and then Dear Husband felt that he could just about muster a bite of the Spiced chicken open sandwich. In fact, he ate two of the four slices so I know for sure that he’s still not 100 per cent.

I used two breasts of chicken which I had cooked earlier in the day and cut them up into tiny bite-size pieces. In a bowl, I mixed mayonnaise, garam masala, chopped celery and roast cashew nuts. After seasoning the mixture, I gave it a swirl and added in the chopped chicken. I used slices of toasted French Loaf to put the spiced chicken on and served up.

The verdict…

In his weakened state (!), Dear Husband managed to eat half of what I gave him. He gave the recipe 7 marks out of 10 but added that, had he not been feeling ‘extremely ill’ (!), it would’ve been 8 marks. He also mentioned that maybe the cashew nuts took away from the spiced chicken; however, I am of the personal opinion that maybe his taste buds weren’t in full working order with that statement. Actually, I’m just thinking, he normally doesn’t go into that much detail on recipe verdicts so he is surely sick. Either way, feedback is feedback.

Overall, a very good recipe for a Sunday night as you’re likely to have some cooked chicken knocking about in your fridge after lunch and it took 5 minutes to prepare. It’s only in American films that I’ve ever seen chicken soup being the answer for people feeling under the weather but, I’ll tell you this, Rachel’s version did Dear Husband wonders as he said to me heading off to his bed… “Em, Lynda, I think I might have the rest of that tomorrow”. A sure sign he is on the mend…

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