Chickeny Goodness

So in the past year I've turned into a fantabulous cook. This is quite an "ugly ducking" transformation, since I come from a long line of fantabulous cooks but never cooked anything besides scrambled eggs, boxed mac'n'cheese, Rice-a-Roni, and Ramen until my move to South Bend. Now suddenly I have about seven cookbooks and a passion for homemade, tasty food.

The only problem with fantabulous cookery is that I only cook for myself. I have no problem with settling on the couch with my latest gourmet meal and congratulating myself on the excellent taste while watching Sports Night, but let's be honest, it's far more rewarding to give than to receive, and half the fun of cooking is watching other people enjoy what you've made.

Plus I miss having sit-down meals with other human beings. Growing up, I had dinner with my family every night. Now I have dinner with my television while shooing away the cat with my foot. Do I feel socially fulfilled through my dinnertime experience? Hardly.

So after conferring with MP I decided to solve the problem by hosting a small dinner gathering this past Saturday at my home with our friends Joan, David (the Grover, as we call him, or, if he's under a lot of stress, Morose David), and Peter. I made my all-time favorite recipe handed down from my mother: creamed chicken over biscuits. MP supplied an excellent apple pie.

And everything was perfect. The food was great -- the five of us put away almost three batches of biscuits (which MP declared to have achieved Southern status!) and nearly all of the chicken; and the apple pie clinched this classically American meal. The company and conversation were deeply enjoyable as always, and Simon kept us entertained playing wildly with the plastic milk ring I had pulled off the jug just before making the biscuits.

I believe the consensus was to hold such events more often, on a rotating basis. It's certainly good for one's overall health to have a complete, homemade meal (well, almost complete...I forgot to make a vegetable, but nobody minded. In fact, when I said, "Oh! I forgot the veggie! Do you care?" everyone immediately said, "No!" Sorry, moms; some things we never outgrow) and interaction with other people while one eats. I for one felt entirely satisfied.

Here's to friends, food, and whole cut-up chicken, which is absurdly cheap. And here's to Simon, just for being abominably cute.