Thursday, July 31, 2014

Foil bags will be the death of me

Help Me...Tell me the secret...
How the fuck do you get a Burning Hot cooked chicken at the supermarket into the silver foil bags they supply without losing your fingerprints or coming away with 3rd degree burns on your palms???
I totally get why they supply them, I'm all for a hot chook.  I'm happy to keep the squirty, crampy food poison away from my stomach but seriously how do you actually get them in the bag?
Obviously I'm not the only one who struggles with this ridiculously planned vessel. 
There were 3 ripped up bags when i got there and I added 2 more to the pile.
Whats the point if you have to rip the bloody bag apart to get it in.  Its not really keeping anything hot anymore is it?  The St John Ambulance could use my left over bags to keep hypothermic patients warm.  More blanket than bag once I'm finished with it.
Do they just do it to give the girls in the deli a laugh.

I get the chicken about half way in and then it just stops and won't go in any further, more attempts at pushing it in just results in ripping the bag further. 
At this point I'm swearing under my breath, through clenched teeth and chucking a couple of toddler tantrum stomps with my feet as well. 
The problem is that you literally can't hold them for more than 3 seconds at a time before you have to drop them or loose layers of skin.
There's also an unwritten rule about how long you can stand there wrestling with that bag without looking dodgy or that your trying to shoplift the steaming poultry.  Although I say if someone is gangsta enough to try and shove one of those down there pants, then they deserve to keep it. 
I think they should provide a hot chook concierge like they do at the petrol pumps at the service station. They could stand by the metal rack of death and put the birds in the bags for you. 
I'm sure they could supply heat resistant gloves for the poor bastard.
Come on Countdown there has to be a better way.  This is Stupid.  And it really hurts.  And you feel like a dick when you can't do it.  I just walk away with half a chicken sticking out of a ripped foil bag taunting me the whole way round the supermarket.  I end up having to run so the chicken doesn't cool down before I get to the checkout.

Is there a secret to this?  What am i doing wrong? Anyone else hate those fucken foil bags?

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Chicken and Vege Soup for the Soul

So its pretty common knowledge that me and kitchens aren't super cool mates but its really just because cooking bores me.  I also have the luxury of having a chef for a husband so really why would I? Unfortunately for my children, he travels a lot which forces me to take on the job of feeding our offspring.  No ones died yet so I can't be that bad.
Anyway the one thing I can probably rate myself on is his Chicken and Vege Soup.  I use the term soup loosely because my version is more like a thick chowder.  The husband often says "Can you make it more soupy?" He showed me how to make it and I have most definitely run with it.  There is NOTHING better in winter than having a massive pot of the stuff in my fridge. 
I would eat that shit for breakfast, lunch and dinner.  And I do.

How we do it:

So I always make a big pot after we've eaten a cooked chicken from the supermarket.  I put all the leftover carcass, bones and jelly fatty stuff into a pot half filled with water.  I add 1 tsp of pepper corns, 1 tsp salt, 5-6 grinds on the pepper grinder and 1 tsp of powdered chicken stock.  I also cut up a carrot into chunks and cut up and put in the top part of a leek.  I then put in whatever raw chicken I will be using at the end and let it cook in the pot.  I usually use 4 large Chicken Breasts or 6 Thigh cutlets.  Let that sucker simmer for a good couple of hours.

After the stock has been doing its thing for a while, I put another massive pot (8.5l) on the stove beside it, which I fill to just under half with water.  Chuck in some Salt and Pepper and half a tsp of powdered chicken stock.  Empty 1 bag of Kings Country Chicken Soup mix and 1 bag of Kings Hearty Vegetable Soup Mix in, plus 1 diced onion and leave it on a low bubble for a good 30 mins so that its all nice and cooked before the other veges go in.


Vege Time:
I use about 6 potatoes, 4 Carrots, 1 Kumara, half a pumpkin, 1 leek and sometimes a parsnip.  We use our Food processor to whizz up the veges.  So much easier and quicker than grating them.  It makes the veges a really perfect consistency to cook quickly and become a thick awesome end result.
Add all the veges into the big pot, stirring lots.  Throw some more Salt and Pepper at it.

At this point the raw chicken should be cooked so can be taken out of the stock pot and put to one side for later.  I then drain all the other stuff and am left with a gorgeous stock.  I add about half the stock to the Vege Pot, (add more if you want it to be more soupy and less veges) I add more salt and Pepper and stir, stir, stir.  After a couple of hours of cooking I shred up all the cooked chicken into little pieces and chuck it all in with the veges.

After that its really all about keeping an eye on it so it doesn't catch on the bottom of the pot and just let it simmer for a couple more hours.    The longer the better. 
Soup always seems to taste better the next day.

Serve it up with some crusty bread rolls slathered in homemade Garlic Butter. 
The husband makes a mean Garlic Butter too, maybe that will be my next foodie blog

Happy Days

Monday, July 21, 2014

Bloggity Blog Blog Blog

You can spell so just write.  A friend of mine said that to me a while back and its kinda stuck in my head.  If we weren't dressed in 70s costume at a 40th, in the car park, after a few shandies it would've been a real Maya Angelo/Oprah moment. Thanks Emma.

My parents came to stay with us for a week to be here for my sons 9th Birthday.  His birthday is in Winter so Christchurch can be pretty chilly.  Me being the wonderful daughter that I am, decided to go out and get an electric blanket for the bed they would be sleeping in.  This isn't strictly true, actually if I'm being honest I just happen to pass a display of them at the Warehouse with a $39 sign and threw one in my trolley on the way up to the check out.  But whatever.
When I got home I figured I'd put it on the bed straight away, how hard could it be? Ummm...
First off I thought I had a faulty one cause it only had one control.  It was definitely a queen size but I guess when you spend $39 at the Warehouse it doesn't stretch to 2 controllers.
I laid the blanket on the mattress and then noticed the 3 ties which needed to be tied around the mattress in 3 places.  I think at this point the instructions should have written in bold letters 'Two person job' cause I nearly killed myself trying to keep my balance on the bed base slats whilst squished between the wall and trying to lift the bloody heavy mattress, and then to somehow throw each length of cord to the other side.  I looked like 'crouching hippo hidden Rhino'.  The mattress seem to get heavier and heavier with each passing minute.  I had visions of my family finding me in a very un-lady like position 8 hours later when they couldn't find the TV remote or where they put their shoe.  It was also once the ties were finally bloody tied that I realised the controller was on the opposite side of the bed to the wall socket.  Shit.  Luckily the cord was just long enough to stretch to the socket but it basically took the controller half way under the bed to get there.  I could just imagine Dad having to hold Mums legs while she stretched under the bed to turn it on each night.  By then I was at the 'too fucken bad' stage and chucked a fitted sheet over it and was done.
I explained the drama I had when they arrived, and thought maybe I should've provided a head torch for when they needed to start the controller finding expedition each night, but not 5 minutes later Mum comes out and says "I flipped the blanket over and re-tied it so its all fine now"  WTF Woman??!!  I couldn't believe what I was hearing? she did in 5 minutes what I couldn't in 2 hours.  She wasn't even breaking a sweat.  The woman is a machine.  I can only pray that those 'Super Mother' genes I hope I have inherited will kick in at some point in the near future.
Maybe I need to start taking those bloody Garlic pills she goes on about?!