I cooked up some serious eats with Chris last night. I made an achiote, bitter orange, lime, cilantro, and habanero marinade for some chicken breasts, then let them swim around in it for about 2 hours. While that was going, Chris cut up the veggies (all by his own self!) and I made a mango creme fraiche with some honey that was so good that I almost had an aneurysm of grief when I saw the calorie content on the side of the creme fraiche container, added honey and fruit to the number, and then wanted to die for how much I’d eaten and how much I wanted to continue eating. I put together some basic yeast dough and then, at the last minute, after the chicken had broiled away the marinade, leaving it a color that can be described best as “Gwen Stefani Pink,” I slapped rounds of dough in the oven and brushed them with butter to make pita pockets. The plate was set up with asparagus, avocado, creme fraiche, roasted red pepper, diced mango, steamed carrot rounds, chicken breast and steaming-hot pita bread. Hell. Yes.
We took some pictures, and then when I looked at them today I realized that most of them looked like I had made a vegetable sculpture of a man’s wee-wee. Oops-berries! Oh well. They tasted mighty fine, and I daresay much better than just about any wee-wee sculpture around. I’m talking to you, Michelangelo.