Yesterday I
barbecued ribs and chicken, so today I decided to make chicken sandwiches with
the leftover meat for lunch. After I
cooked lunch, Brian looked down and said, “Wow, this is a chicken
sandwich. You need to write about the
difference between how I would make one and what it is that you do.” I laughed after Brian described taking two
pieces of bread, spreading a suffocating layer of mayonnaise and cheese, and
crudely chowing it down cold. I conceded
that his version might have some flavor, but I don’t work at the Grizzly Bear
Café, just down from the gold mining claim; it’s not my idea of a
sandwich. I take basic ingredients and,
with a little extra care, produce a little haut cuisine, right here in my own
kitchen. Brian smiled and thanked me for
doing all the cooking. (Actually not
technically “all” the cooking; just today I reminded him that if he is going to
eat his awful rutabaga, he’s going to have to take charge of it himself. He actually asked me how to whip rutabaga in
the manner of mashed potatoes. When I
rolled my eyes, he reminded me how his childhood Thanksgiving including “three
kinds of mashed potatoes”: potato,
rutabaga, sweet potato. That’s his
tradition, not mine; he can put his rutabaga on the same shelf with his chicken
gizzards, that is, Not In My Kitchen!)
Dorothy’s BBQ Chicken Sandwich From
Leftovers
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