Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Casserole with Jerk-Seasoned Meatballs... and a Mystery Veggie

This isn't a traditional jerk seasoning, but hey, I doubt that jerking meatballs is a long-standing tradition in any Caribbean family. It turned out better than I thought it would, given that its purpose was to rid my pantry of unclean less-than-local dried spices. And stretch out the ingredients I have on hand until my next paycheck comes.

Where it says "mystery veggie," my dumb ass used a green bell pepper. As too often happens, it overwhelmed the dish. If you end up doing this yourself, let me know what your mystery veggie was and how it turned out (if that's too much trouble, the slacker version is to leave a comment suggesting a hypothetical mystery veggie).

Casserole with Jerk-Seasoned Meatballs



3/4 lb. ground chicken, turkey, or pork
1" piece fresh ginger, grated
3 cloves garlic, pressed
1/4 tsp. cinnamon
1/4 tsp. black pepper
1/4 tsp. sea salt or 1/2 tsp. table salt
1/8 tsp. dried thyme
Pinch ground cloves
Hot sauce to taste


4 tbsp. olive oil, divided
1/2 red onion, chopped
1/2 head garlic, peeled and sliced thin
3 large or 4 small carrots, sliced
2 stalks celery, sliced
1 1/2 c. mystery veggie
1/4 tsp. ground oregano
1/4 tsp. cinnamon
1/8 tsp. dried thyme
1 bay leaf
3 cups chicken stock
1/3 c. dry rice
Juice of 1/2 lime
1 Tbsp. orange juice
Hot sauce to taste
1 Tbsp. flour
2 stale bread slices' worth of crumbs


About eight hours in advance (so before you leave for work in the morning, if you're a nine-to-five type), mash all the meatball ingredients together. Cover and put back in the fridge to let the flavors marry.

To make the casserole, heat 2 Tbsp. olive oil in a large saucepan over medium-high heat. Add the onion, garlic, carrots, celery, mystery veggie, oregano, cinnamon, thyme, and bay leaf [gasp for breath]. Saute until all veggies are soft and onions are translucent, about 8 minutes. Add the stock, rice, lime juice, and OJ. Bring to a boil, then turn heat down to medium and let simmer 35 minutes. The liquid level will start to drop, but do not add more liquid to the pan. Stir from time to time to ensure that the rice cooks evenly.

Meanwhile, heat the remaining 2 Tbsp. olive oil over medium in a large saute pan. Roll bits of raw meat in your hands to make meatballs. They can be as large or small as you like, though large ones will take longer to cook through. Once they're all rolled, toss them in the pan together and cook evenly on all sides. If you finish before the veggies are done simmering, set aside and cover tightly to keep the heat in and the bacteria at bay.

Once the veggies have been simmering 35 minutes, preheat the oven to 375. Add the meatballs to the saucepan. Set the saute pan aside with reserved oil and meat drippings still in it. Simmer the veggies and meatballs together for 10 minutes.

Meanwhile, add the flour to the saute pan and whisk to make a roux. Scrape the bottom of the pan as you go for added flavor. When your 10 minutes is up, scrape the roux in with the other ingredients and stir until the meat and veggies are covered in thick, gooey, delicious gravy. Add hot sauce to taste and stir. Pour this into an 8" casserole and cover with bread crumbs. Bake at 375 for about 20 minutes, or until bread crumbs are browned on top. Serves 3.

I will be in Virginia without interwebs from tomorrow through Monday, volunteering on a farm. Will have lots of pics when I return. In the meantime, don't forget to leave me your mystery veggie ideas!

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Monday, September 28, 2009

Honied Pineapple Citrus Tartlets

It's finally happened... you get to see my messy kitchen!

Oh but yes, that is a pizza stone hanging halfway off the counter. Yes, that is a martini glass being used as a cookie cutter. Lastly, yes, that is a tape measure in the background.

Here's the finished product:

See? Totally worth getting a little flour in my hair. And in my contact lenses. And maybe a little under my toenails.

Honied Pineapple Citrus Tartlets



2 pineapples, peeled, cored, and diced
1 c. holly honey
1 c. orange juice
2 Tbsp. rice vinegar
2 tsp. soy sauce
Juice of 1/2 lime


2 c. flour
2/3 c. chilled salted butter, cut into small squares
About 4 Tbsp. cold water


Cut the butter and flour together until it looks dusty but with round things in it, like the surface of the moon. Add the water slowly, kneading as you go, until the dough sticks together in a big ball. Wrap the ball in plastic wrap and chill.

Meanwhile, throw all the filling ingredients into a large saucepan and bring to a boil, then reduce heat to medium. Simmer until it has the consistency of jam; the pineapple may or may not break down all the way. I halved the recipe, so you should have about twice as much as pictured below.

Preheat the oven to 350.

Roll out the tartlet dough on a floured surface to a thickness of 1/8". If you have a small surface, like my pizza stone, you may need to reassemble the dough and roll it back out multiple times. If this is the case, you will be touching it with your hot human hands, and it will get gummy. Pop it back in the fridge for a few minutes at a time as needed.

Using a round cookie cutter (or other object approximately 4 1/2" in diameter, such as my martini glass), cut out a dozen rounds and lay them on an ungreased cookie sheet. Spoon a couple tablespoons of filling into the center of each. Fold the edges over so that the filling is contained, but you can still see it.

Scrape the dregs from the filling saucepan and smear them onto the edges of the crusts if you prefer a caramelized glaze.

Bake at 350 for about 15 minutes, or until the crusts have just browned. Remove from oven and cool on a rack. Makes 1 dozen tartlets.

In case you're curious, no, not all the ingredients in this dessert are local. I may make my own salt, but I am not to the point of making my own soy sauce and rice vinegar yet. I figured I may as well use what I have in my fridge. No point in letting it go to waste.

I did use a local pineapple, and was rewarded vomitaciously for my efforts. In fact, the sawdust flavor of this damned pineapple was what inspired me to gussy it up into a jam to begin with. I guess it's true that, just because something grows all year round, doesn't mean you should eat it year round. Pineapple really is more of a winter fruit. Why, oh, why did I think I could cheat nature?

Three of the gussying ingredients (OJ, lime, and honey) were also local, and much yummier. Citrus is another wintery treat, so it amazes me how commercial growers manage to get good juice in September. Uncle Matt's Organics is the farm of geniuses.

Also in case you're curious: Yes, soy sauce makes it better. I inherited a craving for sweet-n-salty desserts from my mother, who introduced me to chocolate covered potato chips and cookies made with salted butter plus extra salt. I don't use that much salt in cooking, but when it comes to baking... boy, I gotsta have it.

Tartlets are a wide open playing field. You can make them sweet or savory, or anything in between. I'd love to see yours. If you have a shareable recipe involving tartlets, hook me up!

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Rainbow Plate Part 1

I've viewed a lot of food blog posts lately that use hefty doses of color to mouth-watering effect. Since reprioritizing the geographic origins of my ingredients, presentation has taken a backseat. And that sucks. Particularly on this blog.

So this evening I chose to serve a dish incorporating every color of the rainbow.

I won't waste your time with the recipe- really, it's just a few separate very conventional recipes thrown together. The components are as follows: first I laid a bed of raw spinach (green) on the serving platter (blue). Next came the breaded and baked sweet potato wedges (orange). Then, in the center of the fanned-out sweet potatoes, a couple servings' worth of curried lentils and rice (supposed to be yellow, but turned out more brown). Then the chopped sauteed bell peppers (red) and onions (violet). And finally, because my curry didn't turn out as yellow as I wanted it, that lonely bite of pineapple as a garnish. (Okay, I cheated a little bit, but who cares about indigo anyway?)

Ta-da! The Chickenless Kitchen's very first rainbow plate. I'll probably do more of them, since this exercise is simple enough and produces automatically attractive food. It would be nice to present at a party; but as we had no guests, hubby and I just dug in.

Quick critical note to self: no more red bell peppers with curry. I don't know why. After all, plenty of other sweet veggies tend to work out great. Does anyone have a scientific explanation (one involving the layout of the taste buds, perhaps)? I dunno, maybe I just ruined it by drinking Newcastle with it. In any case, tomatoes would have made a fine substitute.

Should you decide to make a rainbow plate of your own, feel free to email me pics and recipes. I would love to see what you come up with!

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

Chicken Breast Fillets Topped with Sauerkraut and Black-Eyed Peas

For a culinary enthusiast, I'm dirt poor. That's one of the more selfish reasons that I embrace a primarily-local diet: It frustrates me to see food everywhere that I can't have, and my goal is to make folks equally jealous of whatever I grow on the cheap in my own yard. Since that day has not yet come, I invite you to take a gander at what I did with the rest of the black-eyed peas I soaked for this recipe. It may not make you jealous (depending on your background, it may make you all the more grateful for what you have). But it did satisfy me to know I can whip up a wholesome, mostly-local, mostly-organic entree for pennies.

Chicken Breast Fillets Topped with Sauerkraut and Black-Eyed Peas


2 Tbsp. butter from a stick that you've had in your fridge for 3 weeks (so it doesn't count as an expense per se)
1/2 c. sauerkraut that your buddy made you with the cabbage he grew in his garden
1 c. stock that you've had in your freezer for 2 weeks
1 chicken breast that you had in your freezer for 2 months
1 c. reconstituted dried black-eyed peas that you gave in and bought at Publix
Sea salt that you boiled down yourself from ocean water to taste
Pepper that you've had in your pantry since before you cared where your condiments came from to taste


Thaw the chicken breast. Preferably 24 hours in advance (but if necessary at the last second), halve it and rub both fillets with sea salt and pepper to taste. Cover and put in the fridge until ready to cook.

Thaw the chicken stock in a small saucepan. Add the black-eyed peas. Cover and simmer over medium-low heat until the chicken stock has almost evaporated (the liquid should not entirely cover the bottom of the pan). Remove from heat and toss beans well with the kraut. Set aside.

Melt the butter in a frying pan and pan-fry the chicken breast halves until cooked through, about 4-5 minutes on each side. Plate and top with beans-n-kraut mixture. Serves 2 broke culinary enthusiasts.

And as if I could beat the white-trashiness of this recipe, can you guess why we dragged a buddy with a pickup truck out dumpster-diving for these carpet remnants in the dead of night?

Hint #1: I'm very, very psyched.

Hint #2:

Answer will be given whensoever I's done kickin' back on the porch drinkin' a birr with six-er-seven loyal mangy mutts curled 'round my clodhoppery doodads.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Chickenless Cook of the Week: Dave Spencer

I know I was supposed to wait for tomorrow, but I will be visiting family all day and will not be able to blog. Also... I just couldn't wait to share this dude with you! It is my great, great, great pleasure to introduce Dave Spencer, Instructables guru and mastermind behind the pieces of food art you see before you. Above is his never-before-seen UFO cake, which he flatters me by sharing even before the Instructables article comes out. Until then, please satisfy whatever remaining foodlust you may have for it by watching this Youtube video.

The fact is, this man just might have the most spoiled kids alive. Every year he outdoes himself by coming up with a new and increasingly badass birthday cake. He even fixes those little twerps special fiery birthday pancakes:

(Just kidding, Dave... but seriously, we're all jealous of your kids.)

And it doesn't stop at breakfast and cake. Oh, no. The carbo load has just begun. He assured me I wouldn't be interested, being that this is a "cooking blog" (i.e., I must subsist solely on truffles and caviar), but oh, was he wrong about the levels to which I will stoop! Here is a pair of before-and-after shots of hot dog bites that Dave Spencer has lanced through with tri-colored pasta to form chains of kid-friendly goodness which will be the primary topic of his eulogy in years to come:

Not interested? Not interested?? Dave, you'd better hope I've lost your email address by the time I have kids, because otherwise I am ditching them with you on every birthday they have, and you will be the one dealing with the emotional consequences of that as they grow older.

Now, as if the flashing lights on the UFO cake weren't enough to trigger your rofls, how about a tank cake with moving parts? Check out the instructables article, complete with link to a video of the cake's rotating gun turret (I guess that's what you call it on a tank... I'm not exactly G.I. Joe).

And the coup de gras... an exploding volcano cake. Need I say more? No, I needn't. Because in this day and age it's not only possible but common to share pictures over the interwebs. Here is Dave Spencer's exploding volcano cake.

Congratulations, Dave, on being my first Chickenless Cook of the Week! I hope there will be many more. Remember, don't be shy about emailing me your suggestions for future nominees. I might just make a tradition out of this late-night-Thursday posting... hmm...

Use what you have learned here only for good, and a happy early Friday to all!

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Baba Ganoush Floridian with Black-Eyed Peas and Rosa Bianca Eggplant

I am happy to report that one of the main components of this dip/spread, the rosa bianca eggplant, was purchased at my farmers' market from a grower out of Lake Wales (approximately forty-five-minutes from my Orlando home). The black-eyed peas, however, I am not sure about. I bought them at Publix, which is one of the most popular grocery chains down here in the Southeast. The label claimed they were "distributed by Publix Supermarkets/Lakeland, FL." On the one hand, there is a good possibility that they were grown in Lakeland; many of the chain's generic products are. But if they weren't... do I really want to support that kind of local-washing? Not to mention the fact that Publix is a far-reaching corporation; a shopper in Tennessee can purchase the very same beans that I can. Which I definitely don't support. When you spend money on produce, it should go back into your community, not into the pocket of a CEO thousands of miles from you.

The only sure way to avoid inadvertently contributing your dollars to this practice is to grow it your damned self. My husband and I have decided on a tentative design for our backyard garden, which is based on the mandala model he read about in The Permaculture Home Garden by Linda Woodrow. However, it will also make use of aquaponics, a principle we are currently learning from Toolbox for Sustainable City Living, which I mentioned a few days ago in this post. (So far it's a fascinating read... will have the book review up soon!)

I cannot tell you how badly I am geeking out over this. Someday soon I will be using my own black-eyed peas in this recipe. No more dependence on big chains. No more wussiness. Only tasty, tasty baba ganoush.

Baba Ganoush Floridian with Black-Eyed Peas and Rosa Bianca Eggplant


1 medium rosa bianca eggplant, cubed
1 1/2 c. fresh or reconstituted dried black-eyed peas
1 large or 2 small cloves garlic, pressed
1 Tbsp. tahini
1/3 c. plain yogurt (whole milk or oikos)
1/4 tsp. black pepper
Salt to taste


Preheat oven to 425. Salt eggplant cubes and roast in a single layer on a nonstick surface for 20 minutes. Meanwhile, simmer the black-eyed peas in water or stock over medium heat until soft. They should be done around the same time as the eggplant. Let both cool completely before proceeding.

Drain the beans, reserving 2 Tbsp. liquid. Place all ingredients, including reserved bean liquid, in a food processor and process until well-blended but still thick. Complements crudites, pita triangles, toasts, and other appetizer foods; also makes a delicious sandwich spread. Black-eyed peas loooove spice, so try sauteing a chopped or sliced jalapeno with onions or garlic as a topping. Serves 6-8.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Celebrity Chef Survey

At the suggestion of Ardeth Blood, I invite you to take the Chickenless Kitchen's Celebrity Chef Survey. Tell me who you are and why. For instance, I'm Alice Waters- I have good intentions, but am so far out of the media loop that I sometimes commit major faux pas (see the recent shark fin soup fiasco).

Have at it. Don't be afraid to bring on the funny.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Monday, September 21, 2009

Sea Salt

It was exactly as easy as I thought it would be. Used a simple doubled-over cheesecloth to filter. 32 oz of ocean water took about an hour to boil down and yielded a little less than a shakerful.

I thought it would smell like the beach in my hou
se while it was boiling down, but it kind of just smelled like soup. Maybe I make my soup too salty.

Used it in a lamb braise this evening... yum yum!

On the minus side, look what it did to my pot:

Luckily, it didn't take that much elbow grease to clean out.

Overall, I vote it's much worth the effort, so long as your mom lives on the beach and you visit her frequently. For those of you who don't match that description... I dunno. Get some salt mining tools.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Take THAT, Malabar Spinach


1/3 c. shredded Malabar spinach, well packed

1 Tbsp. minced fresh parsley leaves

¼ tsp. fresh thyme

1 garlic clove, pressed

Pinch salt

1 egg

1 Tbsp. + 1 tsp. whole milk

1 Tbsp. + 1 tsp. heavy cream

¼ c. grated Parmesan cheese

Handful shelled peanuts

Pinch dried cayenne

Drizzle honey



Preheat oven to 375.

Smash the hell out of the Malabar spinach with a mortar and pestle until its insides bleed out and it is purged of all its un-spinach-like evil. Add the parsley, thyme, garlic, and salt and do it AGAIN, just to make sure its dead. Let sit for about 15-20 minutes at room temperature; partially to let the flavors mingle, and partially to be sure that the spinach has learned its freaking lesson.

Beat the egg, milk, cream, and parm together. Add the spinach goop and beat again. And again. And again.

Grease or spray two individual-serving-sized casserole dishes or oven-safe molds. Pour in mixture and bake 25 minutes or until toothpick comes out clean when inserted. Wait ten minutes for the flans to cool. Meanwhile, toss the peanuts well with salt, pepper, cayenne, and honey. Stick them in the oven while the flans are cooling. When the flans are cool, remove the peanuts from the oven and carefully overturn the flans onto serving plates. Top with hot peanuts. Shout maniacally, “Bwa-ha-ha, Malabar spinach! You thought you were so tough, didn’t you? Well, look who’s laughing NOW!!”, then serve. Makes two flans (Aww…)

Thanks a million to Citron et Vanille, who reminded me that savory flans exist.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Favorite Non-Alcoholic Beverage of the Moment

This isn't chickenless enough to qualify as a recipe, but if you put a squeeze of lime and a thin slice of cubanelle pepper in club soda, you will see your maker behind your eyelids.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Overdue Links Announcement

So many awesome bloggers out there, so little time.

If you're here to scout for new twists on classic recipes, visit Alchemist Chef, Elinluv's Tidbits Corner, The Daily Spud, and The Ungourmet. These folks will whip you up a cinema-worthy breakfast in bed when you could have sworn all that was in the fridge was leftover pizza and baking soda.

If you're here to expand your knowledge of international cuisine, visit Give Recipe. Author Zerrin has a heart matched only by her chickenlessness. She embraces a spirit of universal food sharing and discussion.

If you're here because you're a locavore, visit Eating Local in the Tropics and Brooklyn Farmhouse. I josh you not when I say that they sparked my recent resolution to pay more attention to what I eat.

If you're here because you're interested in the art potential of food, visit Krajee Bento Mom. Yes, I know there are numerous bento sites out there. But this one is so cute it makes me want to throw up whatever trash I just ate so I can have room for the adorable little piggy made of rice.

If you're here because you're interested in the history and politics of food, visit Oyster Food and Culture. Actually, no matter what you're here for, visit Oyster Food and Culture. This site has something for anybody who would ever possibly sit through one of my blog posts.

As previously mentioned, I'm coming across awesome links more quickly than I can put them up; however, I am new to this game, and am always eager to make new friends/idols. Please email me or comment on this post if I am leaving someone out of the mix!

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Friday, September 18, 2009

Salt, Books, and Pineapples (Not a Recipe)

Did I neglect to mention that I live in an unmatched subtropical paradise? This pic was taken in the town where I was raised, about an hour's drive from where I currently reside. Go ahead, it's okay to be jealous (all two of you who aren't also Floridians).

I started thinking the other day about how to include "extras" like sugar and salt in a local diet and discovered that, according to numerous amateurs with internet access, making one's own sea salt is a snap. It's just filter and boil; ba-da-bang, ba-da-boom. Apparently it takes about 2 liters to make 6 oz., so for my test run, the contents of this 32 oz. pistachio container should suffice.

In case you were worried about me wasting an hour's worth of gas to make this trip for a few lousy ounces of salt, I was in town visiting my mom anyway, so ha.

Results will be in by this weekend. Stay tuned!

In other news, I'm excited that I didn't have to wait for Christmas to pick up these books.

The Urban Homestead by Kelly Coyne and Erik Knutzen, and Toolbox for Sustainable City Living by Scott Kellogg and Stacy Pettigrew. Both are available on Amazon if you'd like to read along with me. Book reviews imminent.

Now I leave you with this picture of a pineapple I brought to Green Flamingo yesterday for planting.

Mmm, pineapple. I even brought it in the box that the books came in, since Liz and Mary spread flattened boxes underneath their soil to keep weeds from coming through. So I am already developing more of a waste-not-want-not mentality. Go me!!

If you have an inspiring true DIY story about farming/gardening, home saltmaking, urban homesteading, or anything else you'd like me to share, please let me know. Also, starting next Friday, I will be paying tribute to a Chickenless Cook of the Week. Despite the name, this honor may go to any non-celebrity engaged in any food-related profession or hobby who demonstrates a healthy sense of adventure. I said this blog would not follow a single diet philosophy, and I stick by that; so don't be afraid to email me suggestions for non-locavores. Anyone who uses food to make you go, "Yowza!" is eligible.

Now quit reading and go cook something already.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Farm-Fresh Malabar Spinach With Broccoli and Red Onions in Garlic Cream Sauce

I was disappointed to learn that, even lightly steamed and served in an "Ow! Sweet merciful Dionysus, my arteries!" sauce, Malabar spinach has the same texture as sinus-infection lougies. Major bummer, being that the rest of this side dish was THE BOMB. Next time I'll steam the hell out of it, despite my compulsive wariness of overcooking.

Farm-Fresh Malabar Spinach With Broccoli and Red Onions in Garlic Cream Sauce


2 c. broccoli florets

½ red onion, sliced thin or diced large

Approx. 2 c. well-packed Malabar spinach (why, oh, why don’t I have a kitchen scale yet? And don’t give me any of that “because your grocery bill is too high as it is” nonsense!)

3 Tbsp. chicken drippings or clarified butter

3-4 cloves garlic, chopped

2 Tbsp. flour

½ c. milk

½ c. heavy cream



Steam the veggies separately, then combine (the onion can be steamed with the broccoli if desired, but the spinach will take a much shorter time).

Meanwhile, heat the drippings or butter in a small saucepan over medium-low heat. Add the garlic and sauté until soft. Whisk in the flour. Continue whisking until you’ve made a roux the color of brown sugar. Add the milk and cream. Continue whisking until the sauce thickens. Remove from heat.

While they’re still hot, salt and pepper the veggies to taste. Add the sauce to the veggies slowly, stirring as you go (you will probably have leftover sauce.) Serves 4 as a side dish.

Any extra sauce will keep for a few days in the fridge; and in fact, like many garlicky sauces, it’s better as a leftover. It’s good with chicken, root veggies, pasta, rice… the list goes on. Stir well before serving.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Monday, September 14, 2009

Pick Your Battles

Reading over some of my posts, I've discovered that I look like a big fat hypocrite. In one sentence I'm telling you that I have to know where my food comes from; in another, I'm telling you I just broke out a can of coconut milk from coconuts that were likely grown thousands of miles away on an unfamiliar farm. And I don't have a lick of defense.

I started this blog to learn things like that about myself. The citizens of every culture are conditioned by their media to care about specific issues. Animal rights is a big one here in the States, as are the organic and localized agriculture movements. We also hear a good deal about the dangers of overfishing. So like many concerned American cooks, I seek out the local growers at my Sunday farmers' market; and what I don't find there, I buy from the organic produce section at my neighborhood grocery. My meat has to be hormone-free and grass-fed. I buy cage-free eggs only. I tend to steer clear of fish unless I personally know who caught it.

Then, also like many concerned American cooks, I go home and wash my carefully-screened animal and vegetable products down with non-organic beer from Mexico. Because I have not been specifically guilted into giving up non-organic beer from Mexico.

The point is, I learn something new every day about food that appalls me... and yet I still have to eat. My husband and I have not yet saved up enough money or gained enough experience to live on a farm, so we're stuck here in the suburbs of downtown Orlando, depending on others for sustenance. I am forced to pick my battles.

I plan to pick a hell of a lot more of them from now on.

Expect to see some changes in the coming months. Expect to see me start using this blog the way it's intended, to encourage chickenlessness in myself and others. Expect to see a backyard garden and other examples of urban homesteading. Expect to see me volunteering on more farms. Expect pickier recipes.

(Just don't expect me to give up my beer.)

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

For the Fitness Buffs

Today we have our first guest recipe submission, and anyone who's ever started a new blog will be able to tell without looking who it's from.

Bingo! Mom.

I thought about calling her the Chickenless Hen or something, but "hen" sounds offensive, so it's just "Chickenless Chick's Mom" for now. Everyone say, "Thank you, Chickenless Chick's Mom."

A word of warning about this recipe... it's not for your average twenty-minutes-on-the-treadmill-with-the-AC-blasting-in-your-face-the-whole-time morning workout. It's for a chickenless workout, which consists of spending at least an hour engaged in vigorous, sweaty exercise. I cannot be held responsible for your skyrocketing cholesterol in the event that you eat this stuff under any other circumstance.

Breakfast Spaghetti


Olive oil

About 1 cup leftover cooked spaghetti or rice

1 whole egg

¼ to ½ c egg whites

Soy sauce

Cider vinegar

Sprinkle of turmeric


Whip egg and whites with about 2 tsp each of soy sauce and vinegar, sprinkle in turmeric. Use more condiments the more you are going to sweat. Experiment!

Heat pan with a little olive oil, sauté spaghetti or rice.

Pour egg mix over spaghetti, cook until set on bottom. Cut in half or quarters with your spatula and flip each portion to brown on the other side. Makes 2 large servings or 4 small – eat prior to workout and save some for second hour of [exercise]. Do not keep out in heat more than 2 hours. Needless to say the more organic the ingredients, the better.

Note: The above picture was taken of this recipe being executed in the same style as the baby quiches from my previous post; the original looks more like a big ole spaghetti pancake.

And now, surprise! A bonus Chickenless Chick's Mom Original Recipe...

Homemade Sports Drink

This came about because I was shocked that my orange Gatorade powder contained partially hydrogenated soybean oil and yellow #6. L


Per 24 oz insulated bottle:

¾ to 1 cup orange or pineapple juice

(The juice contains the potassium and sugars you need for cramp control and energy - experiment with how strong you need your drink.)

1/8 tsp sea salt

(1/8 tsp salt per hour works for me when it’s hot out. Be chickenless! Experiment with proportions.)

1 tsp organic vinegar

1 tsp lemon

1 tsp honey


Fill with ice and water. Shake REALLY well. Saving a mouthful of salt for last sip is NOT yummy.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.