Cooking lessons

I did something last night that I'd never done before: I took a skinless, boneless chicken breast half and sliced it lengthwise, not quite all the way through, on the thin edge of the breast. Then I opened it like a paperback book.

I was very excited.

The recipe, "Pampered Chicken," came from The EatingWell Diabetes Cookbook. No, I'm not diabetic - and thanks for asking - but my father was and my brother is and so it's on my mind a lot, though perhaps not so much as it should be. Anyway, the recipe's approach is a pretty common one: you slice open the breast and insert something yummy (in this case, cheese). Fold the breast shut, dip it (egg white), coat it (dry breadcrumbs, chopped parsley, grated Parmesan, kosher salt, pepper), brown one side in a hot ovenproof skillet, turn it and move the skillet immediately to a hot oven for about twenty minutes. Oh, yes, friend. It was good. But not uncommon...outside of my own kitchen, that is.

Millions of cooks enjoy making stuffed chicken recipes, after all, and they think nothing of preparing them. I've always been reluctant to try it, though. I vaguely recall making a chicken Kiev dish once or twice ages ago, but have usually thought such dishes either too fancy or perhaps too daunting for my culinary skill set, which I consider awfully limited.

To tell the truth, I'm kind of a lumbering oaf in the kitchen. Messy, slow, not terribly organized. If you say "mise en place" to me, I'd probably say "Gesundheit" in response. More problematically, my grasp of cooking fundamentals - an understanding of the concepts that allow cooks to look at a pile of foodstuffs, recognize how they might come together, and so produce a meal without guidance - is not the strongest. As a result, I rely heavily on recipes and the saints who provide them. (My approach to blog design is much the same.)

On the positive side, I'm at least a well-intentioned oaf. That's my single best quality when it comes to cooking. That is, I can bring myself, fitfully, to try new things...assuming that they call within the outer ranges of my comfort zone.

Also: I actually like cooking (as opposed to simply liking food). This came as kind of a surprise to me.

This year, this brand new year, I hope to expand that comfort zone by developing new skills in the kitchen. It's an actual resolution (I'm among the credulous who still put stock in the New Year's ritual). I found myself encouraged by animated French mice, of all things; Ratatouille gave me a culinary charge I hadn't felt since the first time I saw Big Night. And though I pride myself on being resistant to most reality shows, I was glued to the television for the recent rebroadcasts of the Food Network's two lightly-scripted contests. Kinda silly, I know, but you take inspiration where you find it, yes?

Damn. I'm hungry now.

(Cross-posted.)