The Pork Boys Do Chicken M.P.

Last Saturday, M.P. got up early and made two dishes to take to a party for his youngest granddaughter's 2nd birthday:  fried red tomatoes - a delicious repeat of the recipe he debuted the week before - and tandoori meatballs, with two luscious sweet-spicy sauces, one red (made with tomatoes) and one yellow (made with pineapple).  Unfortunately, I don't have a pic of the sauces, but I can testify that they were delicious when I finally got to try them at the end of the evening after M.P. brought the leftovers back, along with a slice of birthday cake.

He also brought home the good news that his daughter is expecting another child next spring - that will make four grandchildren altogether, so he was delighted to hear it, and so was the rest of the family.  But oh my, what an expensive proposition grandchildren are!  Papaw has already started ordering and stockpiling the Christmas gifts, which he does in a big way - to the joy of his posterity.  He also likes to make things - for the first grandchild, a boy, he carpentered together a large, heavy, solid-wood rocking horse, which no doubt will be an heirloom for generations to come.  And so far he has made a full-size quilt for each grandchild - hand-sewn, every stitch - and I expect another quilt will be in the making this time next year.

Late Sunday afternoon, after recuperating from the birthday party - a gathering of the whole clan that was merry for adults and children alike - M.P. started work on our big weekly dinner, which included a scrumptious new dish he created en passant:  Suprêmes de Volaille M.P., or chicken breast stuffed with sausage, Ro-Tel, and asiago cheese, wrapped in bacon, breaded with panko crumbs, and baked slowly for about three hours.  Magnifique!  Very, very tender - the bacon holds the juices in, he says - and so very, very tasty, too!

However, as creativity cannot be rushed - we sat down to eat about 3 a.m. on Monday, if you want to get technical about it - he did ask me to prepare a couple of side dishes.  First, some instant mashed potatoes, which is the simplest thing in the world to make - but the mighty M.P. somehow cannot manage that little feat, though it's really just child's play.

I must say that it has taken me years to get him to eat my instant mashed potatoes - for the longest time, he swore that they were completely inedible, and would suffer only real mashed potatoes to pass his fastidious lips.  But finally by dint of long-suffering persistence I broke him down, and now he gobbles up the instant mashed variety like nobody's business.

What's my secret, you ask?  Tout simplement, cher lecteur:  follow the directions on the box, and measure everything precisely.  That's all there is to it.  You know, it does seem to me that a great many of the sorrows - culinary and otherwise - in this world of woe arise from not following good directions.

The other side dish I prepared was even more simple, and I must admit that in this picture the microwave-steamed Brussels sprouts do look a bit dull.  But you must try them with Thousand Island dressing sometime - wheee, what a delectable combination!

I also heated up some 7-Up biscuits left over from last week that I've kept in the freezer.  We like them so well that we have decided he ought to make a big batch once a month for us to freeze, and then we would always have them handy.

And that was our Sunday dinner, rounded off with onion gravy made from the chicken and bacon drippings he poured into a skillet and added some chicken bouillon and flour to.  All of which, together with some White Zin, brought the week to a happy close.  I hope all my truckbuddies had some such good fare to end their week with, too.