Well, deli pointed out that the previous title was easily misread as cockblocking, and what has been seen can’t be unseen.
This week, we all melted because the sky is on fire. Irish architecture, culture and people evolved under the constant pressure of rain. We’re set up for dealing with large amounts of precipitation, for staying indoors out of the wet, and for staring moodily out at grey rainswept vistas. We go a bit mad when it’s sunny, and it’s been very sunny this week.
With that in mind, I googled for “summer chicken”, and ended up making a Chicken Waldorf Salad. Any mention of Waldorf salad brings back memories of Fawlty Towers (“Celery! Apples! Walnuts! Grapes!”), but I managed to overcome my giggling enough to put it together.
It worked rather well. The red apples I got were awful, but Granny Smith saved the day. My ratios were off (a cup is an absurd measure of volume), but not by that much. Poaching nice big chicken breasts from the English Market resulted in beautiful moist chunks of chicken that went really well with the dressing and the grapes. Served with fresh-baked bread on the side and pepper to taste. It would have been nice and light if we hadn’t gorged ourselves on multiple servings.
So, next target: poach all the things!