October 31, 2012 by chicagogrilling365
Usually Jenny cooks on Saturdays.
She doesn’t have to work until later, while I have to be in early.
However, on this Saturday, Jenny was scrambling to put her Halloween costume together, so cooking duties fell to me.
I finished work a little after midnight and was wiped out.
I felt another cold coming on, and I had not gotten enough sleep the prior night.
I just wanted to go home and pass out.
I considered doing something super easy and calling it a night.
Let’s see if I can start another sentence beginning with “I”.
Iiiiiiii’m… hoping my Lit teacher from high school doesn’t read this thing.
As always, I knew we had chicken at home. So I went to Jewel and bought three vine tomatoes and some beer. The beer had nothing to do with the cooking.
While delirious from lack of sleep and not in a great mood, I settled on making a tomato sauce, which was just a bad idea.
Not because I couldn’t pull it off, just because that’s something that takes awhile.
I was pretty sure we had parsley at home (we didn’t), and was pretty sure Gil and Rumel still had some basil on their deck upstairs.
I got home, discovered we had no parsley, recited some swear words, walked up to our neighbors’ back door, saw that there was no basil, swore some more, though quietly, so as not to wake them, then started cutting my tomatoes.
“I should have bought stewed tomatoes” I muttered. “This will take too long.”
I talk to myself.
I cooked half a red onion, a clove of minced garlic, and the three tomatoes, also diced, in a pot.
We did have fresh rosemary, which was cool, but I don’t prefer it in tomato sauce.
I put some in anyway, along with some spinach and a touch of dried thyme and sugar.
As expected, the tomatoes released their natural water, which I let reduce, until the tomatoes were almost dry, added some white wine and a cup and a half of water, and let that reduce on low heat while I lit the coals.
I seasoned a single chicken breast while checking on the sauce.
It had thickened considerably, so I added a touch of balsamic, sherry wine, and salt.
I grilled the chicken breast, then removed the sauce from the heat.
This whole process took close to two hours, mainly because I was dragging ass due to being so tired and spaced out.
I also wasted a good deal of time being mad about not having two essential ingredients for the tomato sauce I like to make.
So then, at around three a.m., I decided to quit being a baby.
I wasn’t cooking for Frank Bruni. I was cooking for myself after a long day.
“You like cooking. Alot. Be happy. Fix your attitude.”
This is me talking to myself.
This dish didn’t have to be great.
It could even suck and life would go on.
So I tasted the sauce.
It was good.
A little chunky, but really flavorful, and I didn’t even mind the rosemary all that much.
I sliced the breast and poured the sauce over it.
Having finally decided to quit being a brat, I sat down and ate.
It was good. I hadn’t eaten all day, and it hit the spot.
I left one bite for Jenny to eat after she got home, then promptly fell asleep.
We love you guys.